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All Chapters of only one crown: Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

31 Chapters

The Trade That Shook the League

The locker room door slammed open.“Turn on the screen,” Marcus Vale said, breath sharp, eyes wild.I was halfway through untying my skates. Ice still clung to the blades. My body hurts from practice, sweat cooling on my skin. I didn’t look up.“If this is about the press”“Just turn it on.”The TV above the lockers flickered. The sports channel logo spun once, then the headline cut across the screen in bold white letters.LEAGUE’S BIGGEST RIVAL JOINS FROST GIANTSMy name followed under it.Adrian Cruz traded in a late-night deal.The room went silent. Too silent.I stood slowly.“That’s fake.”No one answered.The clip rolled. My face filled the screen last season’s highlights in my Stormhawks jersey. Goals. Fights. Wins. Then the Frost Giants’ logo burned across it like a brand.“They can’t do that,” I said, voice low.Marcus swallowed. “It’s done. Papers signed. League approved.”My stomach dropped, heavy and cold.The Frost Giants.Out of every team in the league, it had to be the

The Captain’s Ice-Cold Smile

The door to the locker room swung open.I didn’t look up at first. I was halfway through taping my stick, pulling the white strip tight, clean, controlled. The room smelled like cold air and sweat. Like every other game night.“Captain,” our assistant coach said, voice tight.I kept my tone calm. “Yeah?”“You might want to see this.”I lifted my head.And the world tilted.He stepped inside like he belonged there.Adrian Cruz.My ex.My biggest mistake.My biggest loss.He wore a Frost Giants practice jacket now. Our colors. My team’s logo over his heart.For a second, I forgot how to breathe.The guys went quiet. A few of them looked between us, confused. They knew the rivalry. They didn’t know the rest.Adrian’s eyes found mine.Three years vanished and hit me all at once.Same sharp jaw. Same dark eyes that used to look at me like I was the only thing that mattered. He looked stronger now. Harder.He also looked like he wanted to walk right back out.Good.Because I wanted to do th

Enemies in the Same Jersey

Reed. Cruz. Same line.”The coach didn’t raise his voice, but it cut through the rink like a blade.My grip tightened on my stick.Across the ice, Adrian Cruz froze for half a second before pushing off the boards and skating toward me.The first practice after the trade.Of course this would happen.The arena was closed to the public, but the seats weren’t empty. A few staff members watched from above. Management liked to “observe progress.” Which meant Nolan Pierce was probably somewhere behind the dark glass.Watching.Waiting.Adrian stopped a foot in front of me. Close enough that our skates almost touched.“Guess we’re stuck,” he said.His voice was calm, but his eyes weren’t.“Keep up,” I replied.A small smirk curved his mouth. “Worried I won’t?”“I don’t worry.”That was a lie.I worried about a lot of things when it came to him.The coach blew the whistle. “Run the triangle drill. Quick passes. No hesitation.”We took our spots.I lined up at the center.Adrian on the left wi

The Contract Clause

Don’t hang up.”My agent’s voice cracked through the phone before I could say hello.I was halfway out of my gear, sweat still cooling on my back after practice. The locker room was loud, but not loud enough to block the edge in his tone.“What now?” I asked.Silence.Then, “We need to talk about your contract.”My stomach tightened.I stepped away from the noise, pushing through the locker room doors and into the empty hallway that led to the private offices. My skates clicked against the floor with each step.“I already know about the trade clause,” I said. “You missed that one.”“This isn’t about trade approval.”I stopped walking.“Then what is it about?”Another pause. Papers shuffled on his end.“It’s about the penalty clause attached to it.”Cold slid into my chest.“What penalty clause?”“You really don’t remember signing it?”My grip on the phone tightened. “Just say it.”He exhaled. “If you refuse to play for the Frost Giants, or if you request a release within two years of

Ghosts in the Locker Room

Hook The locker room door clicked shut.Silence.For the first time since the trade, it was just us.No teammates.No coaches.No cameras.Just the low hum of the air system and the sharp smell of ice and sweat.I was at my stall, pulling off my gloves, when I felt him behind me.“You waited,” Adrian said.His voice was calm, but it held an edge.I didn’t turn around. “I always finish what I start.”“Is that what you call this?”I set my gloves down slowly and faced him.He stood a few feet away, still in full gear, helmet tucked under his arm. His hair was damp, eyes darker than usual.Outside this room, the media was tearing us apart.Every channel. Every headline.Reed vs. Cruz: Who’s the Real GOAT? Former Lovers Turned Rivals? Sources Hint at Locker Room Drama. Captain Cold vs. The Scoring King.They didn’t know half of it.“I saw the interviews,” Adrian said. “You said you built this franchise.”“I did.”His jaw tightened. “Without me?”I stepped closer. “You weren’t here.”“

The First Power Play

The puck slammed against the boards and flew past my stick.“Dammit, Blake!” I shouted.Blake didn’t even look at me. He chased the puck like I didn’t exist.The crowd roared. Lights burned above us. The ice cut under my skates as I pushed hard and caught up, but it was too late. Their forward stole the puck, rushed down the center, and scored.The red light flashed.First game together. First goal against us.I ripped off my glove and slammed my stick against the ice. “You were supposed to pass.”Blake skated past me, jaw tight. “You were out of position.”“I was open.”“You were late.”The buzzer sounded for line change. We skated to the bench, not looking at each other.The coach leaned in. “You two want to fight or win?”I didn’t answer. Blake didn’t either.This was our first game as captain and alternate captain. The team owner had made it clear. We were the future of the Storm. Our speed, our skill, our names on every poster in the city.Too bad we couldn’t stand each other.Se

After-Hours on Ice

The sound of a slap shot broke the silence.It echoed through the empty arena, sharp and angry.I froze at the top of the stairs.Midnight. The rink was supposed to be closed. Lights off. Doors locked.Another shot rang out. Harder this time. The puck hit the boards with a crack that made my jaw tighten.I knew that shot.I walked down slowly, my steps quiet against the concrete. The arena was dark except for the lights over the ice. One bright square in the middle of shadows.He was alone out there.Blake.Sweat soaked through his shirt. His hair was damp, sticking to his forehead. He skated hard, circled back, and fired again.Missed.He cursed under his breath.He didn’t see me. Good. For a second, I just watched.This was not the Blake everyone else knew. Not the loud captain. Not the man who filled interviews with sharp smiles and easy words.This one looked… worn.I stepped closer to the glass. “You’ll ruin the boards at this rate.”He stopped so fast ice sprayed up around his s

Before We Were Rivals

Move.”I didn’t.The boy across from me tightened his grip on his stick, brown eyes locked on mine like this was war and not a summer youth camp.The sun was too bright. The ice was too soft. Kids lined the boards, waiting for their turn in the drill.The coach blew his whistle. “First one to ten goals wins. Let’s go.”The boy smirked. “Hope you don’t cry when you lose.”I pushed off hard. “Hope you can keep up.”That was the first time I met Blake Turner.I didn’t know then that he would change my life. I only knew I wanted to beat him.We were twelve.Camp North Ridge. Two weeks of early mornings, cold rinks, and big dreams.I had worked all year to get there. Extra drills. Private lessons my mom could barely afford. I wasn’t just there for fun. I was there to be seen.Scouts watched this camp.So when they paired me with him for the one-on-one drill, I saw a problem.He was fast.Not just quick on his skates. Quick in his eyes. He watched everything.I charged first, cutting left.

The Night We Crossed the Line

The buzzer screamed and the world exploded.Gloves flew. Sticks hit the ice. The crowd roared so loud it felt like the roof might rip open.We had won.Champions.I didn’t even see the final goal go in. I just saw red lights flashing and bodies crashing into each other. My teammates tackled me near the boards, laughing, yelling, crying.“We did it!” someone shouted in my ear.But I was already looking for him.Blake.He stood near center ice, helmet off, chest rising hard. Confetti rained down around him. Gold and white falling into his dark hair.For a second, everything slowed.All season we had fought. On the ice. In the locker room. In quiet corners where no one could hear us.Push. Pull.Tonight, we played like one mind. Every pass is clean. Every move is sharp. No ego. No doubt.Just us.His eyes found mine across the ice.And held.Goal at this moment?Celebrate. Smile. Act normal.Instead, my heart beat so loud I couldn’t hear anything else.I pushed through the crowd toward h

The Breakup Game

“Tell me it’s not true.”The words tore out of me before I could stop them.Blake stood in the middle of my kitchen, still in his suit from the press event, tie loose, jaw tight.“Lower your voice,” he said.I let out a broken laugh. “You’re worried about the neighbors right now?”My phone was still in my hand.The screen is still lit.An email. Forwarded by mistake.Or maybe not a mistake at all.My name at the top of a trade discussion.My stats picked apart.A note at the bottom from the general manager.We’re moving forward with Blake as the face of the franchise. The cleanest path is removing internal competition.Internal competition.That was me.Goal at this moment?I needed him to deny it. To say it was politics. To say he had no idea.Instead, he just stood there.Silent.Conflict bloomed fast and ugly.“Say something,” I demanded.He dragged a hand down his face. “It’s not what you think.”“That’s your answer?” My chest felt tight. “Not what I think? Blake, they’re trading

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