Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 98243 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 491(@200wpm)___ 393(@250wpm)___ 327(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98243 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 491(@200wpm)___ 393(@250wpm)___ 327(@300wpm)
“Who's actually coming down?” My gaze sweeps over them. The way they're all planted here, gear off, tells me everything. “I get it, Glasshouse has decent steak and Merlot, but bailing on a run from up here?” I click my tongue. “Fucking waste.”
Parker's already removing his gloves, shoving them into his pocket. “I'd rather the steak. Have fun.”
Asher chuckles. “You're taking the steak too, Venom. People don't jump at the possibility of wanting to ride down Mount Crow from here, let alone people who don't ride often.”
I bat my lashes up at him. “I don't ride often.”
He stares at me blandly. “Exactly. Enjoy the steak.”
I shrug. “Not as often as most, anyway.” How'd he know I've been riding more over the past year? Could I not be the only one stalking an Instagram account?
“Steak.” He repeats. It's an order.
Angling my head up to the stars, I trace every one, imagining an invisible line between them like I did when I was a child.
Someone clears their throat. “Aren't you a little old to be, like, snowboarding?”
I don't flinch at Camille's weak attempt of a stab from her blunt blade.
“Shut the fuck up, Camille,” Asher snaps, forcing my eyes back to him. Jesus.
“Probably.” I laugh her insult off because I don't care about her enough to take it as such, and if I don't simmer it down, Asher will, and despite Veilarath having privacy laws, I'm going to say not a single one of his fans gives a flying fuck about those if he's spotted flying off the handle.
Luce cuts in before I can finish. “First of all,” My eyes fly to my best friend, where hers are pointed right at Camille.
I shake my head at her gently.
Camille's smug smirk widens on Luce, willing her to take the bait.
“You know what?” Luce flashes a too-wide smile. “You're absolutely right. I'll go grab her walking stick.”
I roll my eyes. Unnecessary.
“I'm sitting out.” Punk jerks her thumb over her shoulder. “I'm with Parker on this one. I'd rather the steak than become another statistic.”
She hooks her arm in Luce's, directing her the same way Parker went, and then it's just Camille, Asher and Atlas. I'm surprised Camille didn't join them, considering she's not geared up. Something tells me she caught the warning of Luce.
Atlas turns his body into Asher. “Don't get injured before the first game. The wind is picking up around, well…” He looks down at his watch. “Now. No one is going down from up here.”
“Hear that?” Asher's question is for me. “You should head back in with everyone else.”
I don't know whether I should be annoyed or insulted. I settle for sarcasm. “Age aside, I happen to know a thing or two about a thing or two.”
His brow curves up. “Judging by your Instagram, I have a feeling you and this mountain are on first name basis,” his lip twitches, the small joke passing between us about the folklore. “But this weather is dangerous. No one going down tonight is anything less than a professional.”
“Huh.” I blink off into the distance.
He relaxes, assuming his warning worked, but I shove the goggles down over my eyes and shrug. “Guess it's a good thing I was trained by one.”
I slide forward, right into the first pipe. My board glides smoothly over the ice as I take the first dip, airborne for a few seconds before landing perfectly with a thud. He isn't exaggerating; the mountain is a killer, but I've been riding these slopes almost every weekend for the past six months.
Why I found solace in this place as one of my closest friends ghosted me, I don't know.
Maybe it's because we shared such good memories here when I first took over ownership of the manor.
Or it’s because I really do love the snow.
The first corner hits, my edges biting deep. With every weight shift, it all comes flooding back.
My knees fold into the next carve, swallowing the mountain's fury. Ice patches that'd drop rookies on their asses? Nothing to me.
Trees whip past in dark streaks, counting off my descent. Any one of them is a headstone if I mess up, but this is all muscle memory now.
Distance, speed, angle. The same math that puts a bullet through a heart at three hundred meters.
Wind tears at my exposed skin, savage and honest. This is what I love. Just physics and flesh, testing each other's limits.
I whip into a heel-side stop, snow erupting around me.
Seconds pass where it’s just the silence of nature.
My breath clouds the air as my pulse hammers a familiar rhythm. Combat high, adrenaline dump, same chemicals, cleaner conscience.
Above, the aurora unfolds across the black canvas of sky. Pink bleeding into blue, nature's own neon nightclub.
I drop to the snow with a thud.
Snow kicks up over my board as Asher skids in beside me, whipping off his goggles. “Still fucking stubborn, I see.”