Ice Skater Hockey Player Book 소설 & 이야기

“Devereux! You’re skating like your blades are coated in molasses.” I heave a sigh and move faster, trying to anticipate the pass from Knox. Erik and I skate up opposite sides, racing toward Miles in the goal. He taps his stick against the ice, his face a mask of concentration. Knox passes to me. The puck glides across the ice, and I cradle it. One of our younger players, a defensemen who just started this year, comes out to intercept me. I dart around him, leaping over his stick as it swipes at me. If we had the wrong ref, we’d get shot down for him trying to trip another player. No matter, though. It doesn’t stop me. I aim for the top corner of the net.

Today, it was the world’s premier sports medicine research hub, fully independent, untouchable, and backed by a franchise dynasty that had reshaped North American hockey. My left hand rested on the rim of my coffee mug, the massive oval diamond catching the morning sun. "You're analyzing telemetry on a Sunday morning, Dr. Keller," a deep, rough voice rumbled from the doorway. I turned as Rhys walked in. He had just finished a ninety-minute high-intensity skate on our private basement rink. Clad in black sweatpants and a dark grey training shirt, sweat dampening his dark hair, he looked every bit the six-foot-four captain who had led the Seattle Kraken to back-to-back championships.

I scream, my voice echoing off the high ceilings like a desperate animal. The warm-up music dies. Skates scrape to a halt. Every head turns toward center ice where Ryder stands like a god among mortals—tall, broad, helmet off, dark hair messy and damp. That signature cocky grin stretches across his stupidly perfect face as he flips through my private notebook.

SETHS POV. The ice cracked under my blades like bone. The sound, the weight of the stick in my hands, the thud of bodies against the boards—God, it was all fire. I skated like I wanted to disappear into the fucking game. Like if I moved fast enough, if I kept the puck near me long enough, it’d all burn away—the nightmares, the calls that never came, the silence from the one person I’d once said I’d kill for.

Alright two can play in this game. “Let me just grab my purse and then we can go.” I said heading inside. My purse was already lying on the sofa so I didn’t have to search for it. I checked to make sure my phone was inside and some cash. I was looking forward to how Theodore was going to make me skate. I had refused to learn to skate even though I had the opportunity almost all year round. While everyone my age was learning to skate and fantasizing about being hockey players or dancers, I had my nose buried deep in a comic book. I just didn’t fancy the whole thing and I had no idea why someone would just chose to stay in the cold longer that he or she has to. It was just impractical.

NOTES: This book two is about the story of Maverick’s and Kaida’s son, Raison. RAISON’S POV Standing on the ice rink made adrenaline coursed through my spine. The coldness from the rink, the sweat from skating around it until my opponents lost to me and my team, made it all the more exciting. “Another goal won by the captain of the Evergreen team!” The announcer’s voice rang through the arena, followed by the loud roars from the fans.

"How do you know all this?" He shrugs. "I pay attention to details." Then he starts talking about skating. Not just basic stuff but actual skating. All about programs, competitions, technical scores, training... I'm not sure what to think by the time he's done talking. He sure does know a lot about what I do. I'm impressed. "A hockey player who understands figure skating." I mumble. "Shocking, I know." "Very." His eyes flick toward me. "You know what else is shocking?"

No one needed to know that my jaw was starting to ache from holding it. After a few minutes, a cluster of boys skated clumsily toward me. One of them puffed his chest out and declared proudly, “We wanna be hockey players!” I chuckled and bent to their level. “Hockey players, huh? That’s great. But first, you’ve got to be good on the ice. Learn the basics. Think of this as your training.” I said to them, even though I knew they really didn’t care now. They grinned, nodding eagerly, though I could tell none of them cared about figure skating. To them, hockey meant cool gear, crashing into people, cheering crowds. Figure skating? Too glittery. Too soft.

"You may not be the most powerful, but you can conquer even the world with dedication and resilient, of course with a plan and strategy on the side." <<<>>> YEAR 2095, MONTH OF MAY, 10TH DAY The rinks in Moscow and Chicago were thousands of miles apart, but the ice weighed nearly the same amount when it came to expectations and legacies. In one, a non-magical rising ice hockey star was trying to make a name for himself among seasoned players. In another, a magical child prodigy was wowing scouts, teammates, and fans with his talent. They had not yet met, but they were destined to meet and clash in many ways possible.

TIMOTHY POV The ice was slick beneath Timothy's skates as he glided across the hockey rink. The sharp blades of his skates cut through the surface, sending sprays of ice crystals into the air. The arena was alive with the sounds of the game, the thud of sticks against pucks, the clatter of players colliding, and the cheers of the crowd. But amid the cacophony of the game, there was a deafening silence that echoed in Timothy's heart. He had come to this match with a sense of resignation, knowing all too well what he would find—or rather, what he wouldn't find.