Page 3 of Sticks & Serpents

He knew I was dating Logan.

That was the only explanation.

I felt my heart thud against my ribcage, caught between the pull of the ice and the weight of Damien's gaze. It was as if he reached out with invisible fingers, wrapping around my thoughts and squeezing tight.

He had always had that effect on me, drawing me into his world without warning or hesitation. But this time felt different—charged with an energy that made every nerve in my body hum.

I could almost hear his voice cutting through the noise:I'm watching you.

The reality sank in like ice water pouring over me; I had walked back into his world without even realizing it. The rush of adrenaline from earlier vanished, replaced by an unsettling warmth creeping up my spine.

And there he stood—my stormy-eyed tempest—still watching me with that unyielding intensity that could melt glaciers or ignite fires.

What was I supposed to do? Turn away? Walk back out the door? But something tethered me here, pulling at threads long since unraveled, threads that bound me to Damien Sinclaire in ways I didn’t fully understand.

I risked another glance at Logan, who glared daggers at Damien, anger radiating off him in waves. The tension thickened between them like smoke after a fire—a dangerous dance unfolding before my eyes.

Damien took a step closer to Logan, challenging him with a fierceness that left no room for doubt about his intentions. His smirk twisted like a knife aimed straight for my heart; it was more than just arrogance—it was a statement: he was still here, still waiting for something only he could define.

And somehow, I stood paralyzed—a silent spectator in a game that felt all too familiar yet impossibly distant.

Damien’s presence filled the rink like an approaching storm; it swallowed everything else whole and left only him standing there, challenging me to remember who we once were.

What we…

No.

I wasn't doing that again.

I turned, approaching the planning committee’s meeting room, a modest space tucked between a couple of admin rooms. I needed to focus. The smell of fresh paint lingered in the air; they’d just renovated it for our summer session. At least one thing hadn’t changed—the walls still felt like they were closing in around me.

“Hey Holly!” Daphne called out from inside as I pushed open the door. She was going to be a third year. I had seen her around a few times. She had freckles on her face and always wore an infectious smile.

“Yeah?”

“Ready to dive into all things hockey?” Her grin was wide and sincere, a welcome distraction from my spiraling thoughts.

I plastered on a smile that didn’t quite reach my eyes. “Sure.”

As I stepped inside, part of me still lingered outside—half-hoping Damien wouldn’t show his face while another part wondered if he ever would again.

When it came to Damien, I never knew what I wanted… and that scared me the most.

Chapter2

Damien

The ice beneath my skates felt alive, pulsing with every aggressive move I made. I didn’t play for fun. I played to win.

To dominate.

Todestroy.

This charity scrimmage was a joke—a pathetic PR stunt to keep my father’s name in the spotlight, a reminder of what our family once represented.

As I slammed Logan into the boards, the crack of his body against the glass resonated through me like a symphony. The other players gasped, but all I heard was the deafening silence of my father’s expectations looming over me.

He stood in the stands, arms crossed, an imperious figure wrapped in tailored perfection. Ever since Cooper left, things had gone south. My brother was the golden child—the one who had it all figured out.

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