Ice Skating Books Romance Novels & Stories

She laughed, calling for Morozko. Morozko skated towards her, elegant in his precision. His skates were like blades against the ice. He caught Anya's offered hand and pulled her along with his momentum. Moving in tandem, they navigated past other skaters, entering a clearing. Morozko led Anya into a turn: she spun like a dancer, hands tucked at her waist. Morozko caught her, and they continued an intricate interplay, weaving a story with their moves.

"Are Charles and Chloe down for the night?" "They are resting in their bunks, though whether their minds are quiet is another story. Isabella’s departure cracked their foundation, especially Charles. I have never seen that young wolf shed a tear since he learned to skate, but he was howling silently in his quarters over her passing." The memory of Isabella’s gentle nature pierced my thoughts. She was the one pure sheet of ice in a territory buried under harsh winter storms. Now that her flame was extinguished, the rink felt entirely dark.

She was dressed in her crisp, white culinary uniform, looking utterly serene and entirely unbothered by the violent commotion happening on the ice just feet away. Cassandra's breath hitched. 'Haze? She... works here?' Cassandra’s head snapped back toward the rink. Right on cue, Marco halted on his skates, his dark gaze piercing through the plexiglass, landing exclusively on Hazel. "Why?" Cassandra whispered, the word nearly swallowed by the roar of the arena. Slowly, she stood up, her perfectly painted lips pressing into a thin line. "Where are you going, dear?" Laura asked, glancing up.

The moment she opens it, the screen lights up. I stare at it like it’s an artifact from another lifetime. “Here,” Elise says, clicking on a bookmarked video. Soft, orchestral music fills the room, and a pair of skaters glide effortlessly across a mirror-smooth rink, spinning in perfect synchrony, the kind of dance that looks simple until you try not to fall on your face doing it. Elise points impatiently. “That. I want to learn that.” When was the last time I even touched a gadget?

His patience was thinner than the ice we trained on. Before I could even find the words, Isaac’s chair creaked. Slowly, deliberately, he set his pen down on the folder and looked up, his expression so flat it could’ve been carved from stone. “This is not a romance novel, Coach Lila. It’s competitive figure skating.”

I have one job, win this game. Mitchell skates past me, shoulder-checking me harder than necessary. “Nice punch, Hart,” he sneers. “Too bad your head’s not in the game.” I don’t look at him. I don’t react. I just keep skating. He hates that. Next shift, he tries again, a shove to my back, a slash to my stick, a muttered insult about my team. Still nothing. I’m not giving him the satisfaction. But then he says her name. “Hey, how’s your little ice princess? Lena, right? Shame, she got hurt. But maybe I can help her 'heal' up”

Whenever he gets close to a girl as the golden boy, he moves on without remorse. But the memory of her smooth p*ssy skin under her legs on his fingertips, the way she’d gasped when he’d touched her there, gnaws at him, urging him to turn back, to go back to her and devour her. But he doesn’t. Reaching the rink, the rink is a cavern of cold, the air intensifying in its coldness. Knox laces up his skates, trying to drown out the echo of Skye’s breath against his mouth. The fluorescent lights buzz overhead, casting harsh shadows of himself across the scratched-up ice. He steps onto the rink, the blades of the skate slicing clean lines as he glides, but his mind is a mess. That kiss in the art r

one of them muttered under his breath. Jax didn’t respond. He just slammed pucks harder than necessary, checked his own teammates like they were enemies, and barked orders so loud his voice echoed off the rafters. Every time his eyes drifted toward the figure skating side of the rink, the anger twisted tighter in his gut. Elias was already there, gliding through warm-ups like nothing had happened between them. Like Jax hadn’t pinned him down and fucked him raw in his own bedroom two nights ago. The memory made Jax’s blood boil.

“This is just too confusing, Ace. You don’t want to date me, but you want to warn off every other guy that I’m not available. What the hell is it that you want?” He opened his mouth and then closed it again. “I honestly don’t know, Isla.” “Well, then come find me when you do. You know where I live.” I stomped off the ice and nearly slipped, which would’ve been the highlight of my day. “Isla, wait!” I heard Ace skate up behind me. “Fuck off, Ace, I’m not in the mood right now.”

This is the AU version of Winter's Mate: Fated On Ice without the werewolf element! And it's book 3 of the Keepers Series—the other couples from books 1 and 2 will definitely make a cameo. I hope you like this book as much as I enjoy writing it :) I've been meaning to write a chaotic FMC, so this is it. *** 1 Rosie “You bloody cheating bastard!” I screamed at the top of my lungs, gripping Mia’s little hand tightly for support as I swallowed hard to hide my sheer nervousness.