جميع فصول : الفصل -الفصل 20

Asya's POVI clutched my heavy leather skate bag tighter against my side, pulling my woolen scarf higher up over my nose to block out the biting northern wind. My ribs gave a sharp, familiar throb with every heavy breath, a lingering reminder of the pre-tournament's physical brutality, but I barely felt it. My mind was entirely focused on Vance's voice that kept reverberating in my ears as I walked the distance to the rink.A single, brilliant beam of light cut through the gloom from the far end of the rink. And there, standing just inside the glass of the rink door, was Vance. He was leaning his broad shoulder against the frame, a dark, commanding silhouette against the golden light behind him. He had his heavy canvas jacket unzipped, a dark hoodie underneath, and his hands buried deep in his pockets. As my boots crunched against the rubber matting, his head snapped up. Those intense, dark eyes locked onto mine through the shadows."You're late, Volkov," his deep, gravelly voice rum

Asya's POVThe morning sun didn't even get to rise before Vance woke me up."Practice time," he announced firmly.I groaned, turning in the blanket. "It's what? 5 or 6 AM?""5," he affirmed, smirking down at me. "Come on, Volkov. Up and get ready. Be at the rink in 10." He turned and left after speaking, not giving me any time to bargain. Sighing, I pulled myself up from the couch and changed quickly.The cold inside the main rink was sharp enough to make my lungs ache with every breath, but the freedom of the empty ice was worth every sting.---"Your weight is too far back on the transition, Volkov!" Vance’s voice boomed through the vacant rafters, echoing off the empty seats like thunder.He was standing at the center circle, his massive frame wrapped in a heavy black team jacket, his hands resting on his hips. He didn't have a clipboard today. His dark eyes were tracked onto me, dissecting every single millimeter of my movement with an intensity that made my skin flush beneath my

Asya's POVThe storm slammed into the valley like a runaway freight train.By three in the afternoon, the pale, clinical sunlight had been swallowed whole by a dense, swirling wall of blinding white. The northern wind howled against the high clerestory windows of the Ice Den with a violent, rhythmic force, rattling the heavy iron support beams until the entire structure seemed to vibrate. Through the frosted glass near the zamboni entrance, I could see the snow piling up in massive, five-foot drifts, completely burying the side walkways and choking out the asphalt access roads.I stood by the home bench, my skate guards clicked onto my blades, unspooling a fresh roll of black friction tape over the toe of my stick. The air inside the arena was rapidly dropping in temperature, every breath I exhaled blooming into a thick, swirling cloud of mist that lingered in the still air."Visibility on the state highway just hit zero," Vance said, his gravelly voice cutting through the hollow roar

Vance's POVThe storm outside had subsided into a low, steady drone, but inside the office, the air remained thick with a fierce, suffocating intimacy. Anastasia was still sitting in my lap, her small hands resting flat against my chest, her heavy wool blanket draped over both of our shoulders like a dark, private tent.Her breathing was uneven, her heart fluttering against my palm where my hand rested over her side. She had just given me back a piece of my soul, looking into my eyes and declaring herself mine with a fierce, terrifying conviction.But as the silence stretched between us in the freezing dark, I felt a tremor run through her body—but I wasn't sure if it was from the cold or if it was something else."You gave me your truth, Vance," she murmured, her voice dropping into a quiet, trembling register that made my instinct to protect her flare up instantly. She stared down at the dark fabric of my hoodie, her fingers twisting slightly into the cotton. "It’s time I gave you

Asya's POVI stood at the blue line, my hands rested lightly on the top of my stick, my breath blooming in soft mist clouds. "You're positioning your defense too wide on the power play, Coach. If I take the lane inside your left skate, you can't close the angle in time."Vance was standing ten feet away at the center circle, stripped down to a heavy dark thermal shirt and his track pants, holding his own stick with a casual, broad-shouldered power. A slow, dangerous smirk tugged at the corner of his jaw."Is that a challenge, love?" his deep, gravelly voice echoed off the quiet glass walls. "Because I seem to recall intercepting three of your inside drives during yesterday's drill.""Yesterday I wasn't feeling my toes," I shot back, a bright, electric spark of playful competition rising in my chest. I tapped the blade of my stick twice against the ice, a crisp, sharp clack-clack. "Put a puck on the red line. One-on-one. Breakaway drive to the net."He let out a low, rich chuckle, the