Heartbreak On Ice
Reyna has one mission... And it is definitely not falling for the guy who ruined her best friend's life.
Reyna Davidson is twenty and torn when her best friend, Varna Soni's heart gets broken by Grentwood's hockey-star-playboy, Evander Gabriel.
His betrayal sparks a chain effect, driving Varna into drugs, and eventually, psychiatric hospitalization.
Reyna, overtaken by grief and anger, sets her vengeful eyes on Evander.
She transfers to Grentwood College, armed with one mission: Get close, make him fall, then crush his heart until it bleeds and he feels the pain Varna felt.
But things take a dark turn when she starts to see cracks beneath Evander's perfect playboy mask.
And she becomes the target of a psychopathic girl who is obsessed with him.
With growing feelings, a mentally ill best friend, and the psychopath, Reyna is about to discover that there is more to her mission... than revenge.
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Chapter 2
REYNA
<><><>
EVANDER GABRIEL is kissing me!
Not figuratively. Literally!
And the worst part?
I think he knows exactly who I am.
~~~
A few minutes ago...
The dormitory hallway buzzed with the sound of gossip, hushed yet loud enough to make my blood boil over with anger.
Two girls were huddled in a corner.
The shorter one whispered, "I heard Varna tried to seduce one of the professors to get him to boost her grades... but he rejected her, and that's why she dropped out."
The other girl burst into a ripple of cruel giggles.
I froze mid-step. My grip on my dorm key tightened until the metal edges dug into my palm, creating marks.
My hands shook. My heart squeezed into my ribs.
They didn't know her. Not the real her.
Not the girl who stayed up all night watching Gilmore Girls, the girl who loved paal cake to death.
And now they had reduced her to a filthy rumor?
By the time I reached my door, my chest burned with fury. I just wanted to get inside, slam it shut, and scream into my pillow.
But the key just wouldn't fit.
I shoved it again. And again. But each time, it scraped uselessly against the lock.
Then, out of nowhere, a deep, gravelly voice came from behind me:
"Funny..." he said, "...I've heard things about you."
I spun around.
Evander Gabriel stood there, hands in his hoodie pockets, hood shadowing that stupidly magnetic face.
My pulse jumped.
Did he know?
"Th... things?" My voice cracked. "What things?"
He gave me a lopsided smile, the kind that said he was holding cards I couldn't see.
"I won't tell," he murmured as he shook his hood off. "But on top of that, you're trying to break in now, sweetie."
The word "sweetie" landed in my stomach. Badly.
"What do you want?" I asked in a voice so steely, it could have ripped his charming face right off.
He grinned. "Aside from trying to get into my room..." His eyes skimmed over me, shameless. "...maybe your number."
My stomach twisted with disgust.
If he knew my real reason for being here and was still flirting, then he was trying to play me.
And if he didn't... then he was still the same snake who thrived on power games and using women.
For a flicker of a second, I saw Varna again, brown eyes sparkling, feet propped on the cafeteria chair, laughing so hard she snorted.
I blinked, and the image went away.
Evander's words registered fully in my head.
"Wait, you said your room?"
"Yes love."
"Don't call me that." I hissed, turned around, and tried to open the door, but it still wouldn't budge.
Suddenly, I felt warmth and big hands on mine. Evander's.
"Baby," he said, "...if you want us to move to the bedroom, I have the keys."
I snatched my hands away like his touch was a match that had burned to the tip.
A chuckle left his lips. Throaty and attractive, but for the monster he is.
He slipped a key into the lock and opened it in one clean turn.
"This is 32, my room. That," he said, pointing across the hall, "is 23, your room."
My eyes widened, realizing my mistake and worse, my fate.
A groan rose in my chest, eventually coming out as a mutter. "Great. They gave me the room directly across from you, of all people."
His smile dropped and his eyes narrowed. "You knew me before."
It wasn't a question. It was a statement that made my eyes go wide and my heart double over in my chest.
Shit. Slip up.
As quickly as I could, I cleared my throat, calmed my breathing, and looked him in the eye.
"Your reputation precedes you, Evander Gabriel," I said calmly.
His mouth curved into an amused smile. "And so does your beauty, Reyna Davidson."
I narrowed my eyes, filing away his tone, his posture, and the way his gaze lingered like he was mapping me.
Fine. If he wanted to play, I'd make him think he was winning.
I stepped closer, tilted my head, and lowered my voice like a twenty-first-century Marilyn Monroe.
"Don't you think it's too early in the season to be asking around about a girl, Captain?"
His eyes sharpened, studying me the way a wolf sizes up whether the prey will run or bite back.
I let my wavy ginger hair fall over my shoulders, close enough for him to smell the faint trace of my perfume.
My looks are the one good thing I got from my parents. My mother's amber eyes that shine almost golden in the sun. My father's ginger hair with a blonde streak in the front. And both their freckles, dusting my nose and cheeks.
I'll be damned if I don't use all these to milk Evander Gabriel in.
Inch by inch, I leaned in to him, our breaths mingling, our noses almost touching.
Letting him think something sweet was coming. Letting him relax, let down his guard, and lean in, his ice-blue eyes dilating in anticipation.
Just when he tilted his head, about to go in for the kill, I pulled back with a calm sigh. "Not every girl wants to kiss you, Evander."
He smirked, like I'd set him up for his own punchline. "Oh, but deep down, you know you do."
"Don't flatter yourself. You're not my type."
Immediately those words left my lips, I knew I'd hit him in the guts.
For a split second, something dark flickered in his eyes. My words were a bruise to his ego.
I smiled internally.
But just as fast, he masked it under a smug grin.
"I am everybody's type."
As I was about to reply, a singsong, female voice called from around the corner: "Evander...?"
A girl my age appeared wearing very revealing clothes.
Immediately he saw her, Evander's hand grabbed my waist and his body closed the space between us.
His lips were on mine, before I could react.
~~~
Now.
I gasp, stumbling back into the wall as his lips press firmly into mine.
His scent-clean, expensive, masculine-crashes into me. His mouth moves, slowly but with deliberacy, not romance. Like this too, is a move on his chessboard.
No. I can't let this happen.
But then his arms slip fully around my waist, pulling me in, deepening the kiss. Heat licks at my skin.
Reyna! What are you doing?!
He pauses, just enough for his lips to brush mine as he murmurs huskily, "You're a good liar, Reyna. But not better than me."
My eyes go wide. The words hit harder than the kiss.
Then, without giving me space to breathe, he claims my mouth again.
My brain screams at me to shove him away.
But my body betrays me, cataloguing the warmth, the press, the rhythm-
And I have no idea if I have already botched my plans before they even began.
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8.8
The only thing more dangerous than the game is the man guarding the crease.
Lyon Navarro has spent his entire career tearing down the San Diego Stormbreakers. As the city's most ruthless journalist, he's made an art form out of exposing the Alphas' volatile tempers and their scandalous lives off the rink. He's the man they love to hate-until a desperate management team offers him the biggest paycheck of his life to fix their image.
The assignment? Tame the six most notorious werewolves in the league.
But Lyon isn't just dealing with professional athletes; he's stepping into a den of apex predators who have been waiting for him to cross their territory. And they have no intention of playing nice.
Rafael Stone, the team's intense, iron-willed captain, has made one thing clear: if Lyon wants to manage the pack, he's going to have to survive them. But between the locker room tension, the high-stakes pressure of the season, and the way the pack's gazes feel like a physical brand on his skin, Lyon realizes he's no longer just reporting the story-he's the one being hunted.
In a world of adrenaline, cold ice, and raw, lupine desire, Lyon is about to discover that the line between enemy and lover is thinner than a skate blade.
Six Alphas. One PR strategist. And a season that's about to get very, very hot.
Beyond the Ice is a high-stakes, slow-burn MM hockey werewolf romance. Expect intense power dynamics, sizzling tension, and a pack that doesn't just want to win the cup-they want to claim their man.
8.6
I was the youngest Paladin in history, the absolute pride of the Azure Blade.
But after a disastrous mission in the snow, I was falsely accused of slaughtering my own squad.
Grand Master Bernardo Rowe didn't just exile me; he surgically severed my connection to the magic Aether, turning me into a crippled mortal.
Desperate to survive, I tried to climb the Holy Stairs to reclaim my legendary sword, "Rebellion."
Instead of answering my call, my own blade shrieked in absolute rejection and blasted me down the thousand stone steps.
My bones snapped like dry twigs, and I was left in a pool of my own blood.
The pilgrims laughed at me. The guards declared me a lost cause and left me to rot in the dirt.
I should have died there, betrayed by the Order and the holy magic I once served.
But a silent, massive laborer named Cato Sims dragged my mangled body into the shadows.
He healed my shattered skeleton in mere days with impossible skill, yet he allowed lowly servants to spit on him and beat him just to keep my presence hidden.
I didn't understand why my holy sword had abandoned me, and I understood even less why this stranger was protecting a condemned criminal.
When I finally snapped and demanded to know his price for saving my life, he didn't ask for money or my body.
"The mountain does not forget its debts. I am reclaiming what was taken from it."
Staring into his unyielding eyes, I realized my exile wasn't the end, but the beginning of a terrifying truth.
7.5
Arthur Lucas is a billionaire who survives by control, not love. When a scandal threatens to destroy his empire, he needs a wife fast. Someone clean, respectable, and silent. Kiah Taylor needs money to save her brother from prison. Their contract marriage is supposed to be simple. But the scandal isn't about Arthur. It's about Kiah. The moment she becomes his wife, enemies close in. Secrets surface. Lives are threatened. Love becomes dangerous. And survival is no longer guaranteed.
9.8
I was an arrogant, canceled reality TV star, trying to salvage my ruined reputation on a live broadcast.
But after I lost my temper and assaulted a cameraman, my furious grandfather chased me into our family's forbidden gallery, where I accidentally crashed into an ancient, sealed portrait.
The canvas shattered, and a terrifying woman with glowing golden eyes stepped out of the wall.
She was Cecil, the First Matriarch of the Marshall family. She caught a lightning bolt with her bare hands and crushed me to my knees with an invisible, suffocating pressure.
My grandfather, instead of saving me, groveled on the floor and abandoned me to her mercy.
"You are the disgrace that will end this family."
She hijacked my entire life, forcing me to act as her submissive baggage handler on my own survival reality show, broadcasting my humiliation to millions.
I didn't understand why this ancient monster was tormenting me. Why did she strip away my pride, treat me like a broken tool, and force me to endure the mockery of the very ex-girlfriend who had ruined my life?
But when those same cast members tried to corner me in the dark woods, Cecil stepped in front of me, her eyes locking onto the silver ring of the man mocking me.
"To catch the wolf, one must sometimes walk with the sheep."
That was when I realized she wasn't here to destroy me—she was here to hunt the parasites who had been secretly siphoning away my life force.
9.7
Charity woke up in a hellish, acid-rain-soaked slum, trapped inside a bloated body covered in festering, toxic sores. She was the exiled Grand Princess of the Empire.
But the real nightmare wasn't her ruined body. It was the fact that the original owner had used her royal authority to force genetic marriage contracts onto four top-tier, powerful men.
Now, she was bound to them, and they absolutely loathed her.
Hjalmar, chained to a bed in her filthy room, smiled like a feral beast and promised to rip her head off the second his chains snapped.
Braden, a ruthless military officer, saved her from a mutated rat only to look at her with pure disgust.
"If you want to die, go die somewhere else. Don't dirty my patrol sector."
Even the locals mocked her fallen status, and a wealthy heiress publicly framed her for stealing a hundred-thousand-coin energy core just to see her rot in a dark cell.
She was universally despised, physically repulsive, and a lethal biological toxin gave her exactly 59 days left to live. How was she supposed to survive this absolute hell when her starting affection with her partners was at negative 100?
Then, a mechanical voice echoed in her skull, activating a survival system. To purge the poison, she had to harvest emotional energy by making these four men fall for her. Charity accepted the mandate, unlocked a top-tier culinary skill, and grabbed a rusted meat cleaver to start her counterattack.
8.7
Rejected by her mate. Bound by a blood tie. And barely alive.
Lara Wolfhart should have been free... but the bond tying her to a monster won't let her go. When Alpha Kael the most feared wolf in Moonshine Pack finds her on the brink of death, he doesn't just save her. He claims her.
But protection comes at a cost. Her past isn't finished with her. Her enemies are closer than she thinks. And the man who once rejected her refuses to let her go... even in death.
One Alpha. One broken girl. One forbidden bond.
Will Lara survive... or will the pack world break her completely?