Beautiful Venom: A Dark Hockey Romance (Vipers Book 1)

My heart beats so hard, it nearly spills through my rib cage.

Sweat is now covering my hands as I tighten my grip on the chair. No amount of icy air could extinguish the fire that erupts at the bottom of my belly.

Kane’s words echo in my chest instead of my head, and I stop breathing altogether.

Yes, I intended to ‘meet’ him officially. But not like this. I was working on multiple plans to make it natural and believable.

Catching me in one of my snooping sessions is neither of the above.

Maybe if I make a run for it, I’ll be able to get out of here⁠—

“Am I that scary? I promise I don’t bite.” The note of amusement in his tone breaks the flow of my thoughts.

God, why the hell does this man’s deep, gravelly voice sound like it’s out of my darkest, most delicious dreams?

He sounds relaxed. Inviting, even.

Maybe it’s because of that, or the fact that my legs are done carrying me, but I choose to seize the opportunity. The probability of having another one-on-one encounter with the Kane Davenport is slim to none. He’s always surrounded by people.

All the time.

Everywhere.

Anywhere.

He’s the magnetic field people find themselves pulled toward.

I’m the people. People are me.

With a sharp exhale, I slowly stand. My knees burn and my legs feel numb. In a swift movement, I remove my baseball cap and pat my hair into submission until the long, wavy brown strands smoothly settle beneath my breasts.

My sister Violet told me first impressions matter the most, and I hate that I’m not dolled up for the meeting I’ve been planning for weeks. But I did put some makeup on earlier tonight and I’m wearing flattering jeans that mold to my curves and a beige top that contrasts nicely against my deep olive-toned skin.

Sure, I could look better, but I can also work with this.

This will either make or break my plan.

After sucking in a deep breath, I look down, and I’d almost forgotten how effortlessly gorgeous Kane is.

Almost.

He leans against the boards, arms crossed, stick hanging from his hand, looking both unsettling and nonchalant. The opposing impressions he gives off are jarring and force goosebumps to surface on my skin.

The dark-blue hockey gear adds a sense of foreboding to his already intimidating physique. Despite a few rows of seats separating us and my average height of 5’6”, he still looks intimidatingly tall.

A slight smile touches his full lips. “There you are. That wasn’t so hard, now, was it?”

“Hi.”

Shit.

I don’t sound weak. Ever. What on earth is wrong with me? Calm down, for God’s sake.

“Hello.” His smile remains the same, exuding politeness. It’s even welcoming. “May I ask what you’re doing here at this hour?”

“I stayed behind after the game.”

“I could tell. Why?”

“I…I’m a fan!” I blurt the first thing that jumps into my head.

Why the hell didn’t I think of that before? Actually, I did. Fleetingly. But I figured the Vipers already had too many fans throwing themselves at the team members at every opportunity. So that wouldn’t have made me stand out from the crowd.

But now that we’re alone, it might.

“I see.” The two words are followed by intense eye contact that’s strangely devoid of warmth. I’m being scrutinized, but there’s no sense of connection.noveldrama

The glacial pale color of his eyes is similar to sinking into the Arctic Ocean as layers of ice form on the surface at an alarming speed.

This must be what it feels like to be iced alive.

I shake the image from my head. This is Kane, not Preston, or God forbid, the wild card Jude. He’s my best—and only—option.

“Yeah,” I continue in a more confident tone. “I’m a new fan. I didn’t know much about hockey before, but I’m learning more because of the team. Go Vipers!”

“I’m happy we could lure you into the game.” His words sound calm. Like an undisturbed ocean.

Right.

That’s the vibe Kane has always given. Deep, controlled, and reliable. An ocean in all its glory.

“You did me the greatest favor.” I smile wide. I’ve always heard I have a beautiful smile and I don’t mind using it to my advantage. Beggars can’t be choosers, and I’m definitely a beggar in this situation.

“Who’s your favorite player on the team?”

“You,” I say with no hesitation.

“Are you sure you’re not saying that just because I’m here? If Callahan shows up, you’ll switch, won’t you?”

“Callahan is too aggressive and violent in his play. I don’t find that entertaining.”

“Most hockey fans do.”

“Not me. I prefer your tactical prowess and your seamless ability to lead both in offense and defense.”

“I’m flattered. Thank you.” His voice remains the same. Unaffected, cool. He certainly doesn’t sound flattered, or maybe he’s been praised so many times before that his responses have become mechanical.

“No, thank you for taking the time to talk to me. It’s hard to run into you on campus, so this means so much to me.”

Gag. I’m not used to praising strangers this extensively. I’m starting to cringe.

“Anything for a fan. If you want an autograph, all you have to do is come closer. I truly don’t bite.”

That’s when I realize I’m still nestled behind the row of plastic seats, gripping one of them so tightly that my fingers hurt. I release it and slowly take the steps down.

The entire way, Kane’s gaze is pinned on me.

It’s not threatening per se, but it’s intense, like when he’s reading his opponents on the ice. That should feel like a compliment, but I’ve watched this man crush so many of his rivals, the attention shoots a wave of unease through me.

I stop in front of him, and he stands to his full height. I’m not sure whether the gesture is meant to intimidate me, but I might have underestimated how tall he actually is. Add the skates and he’s downright towering over me.

Up close, his jaw is sharper, his skin smooth except for some stubble. And his eyes are paler, much colder. Slightly disturbing, even.

He carries himself effortlessly with complete and utter ease.

I’m actually envious. How can someone be so…self-confident? So self-sufficient?

“Can I take a rain check on the autograph?” I say to murder the invisible tension. “I don’t have a pen or paper.”

“How about a picture, then?”

“That would be amazing.” I fumble in my back pocket and retrieve my phone, then click on the camera.

Due to the height difference, I can’t get a good angle.

“May I?” he asks after watching me struggle for a few seconds.

I hand him the phone with an apologetic smile and lean closer so he can take the picture. A whiff of woodsmoke and the faintest trace of musk flood my senses.

The scent is so masculine, my head turns and heat creeps up my neck. I’ve always found men who smell nice attractive.

I forget to smile a few times as he snaps some successive pictures.

As he hands me the phone, I stare at his black ring for a beat too long and hope my inner disgust doesn’t make an appearance on my face.

“Now, why don’t you tell me the real reason you’re here, Dahlia Thorne?”

My fingers pause on the phone as he clutches the other end. He doesn’t release it when his eyes meet mine. His expression hasn’t changed, but a dark undercurrent has overshadowed his polite manners.

“How do you know my name?” I whisper.

“You applied for an intern position on the medical team, no? The résumé had your picture and name on it.”

“And you go through every application?”

“As the team captain, yes, I do. No one gets close to the Vipers without my knowledge.” He pauses and lets my phone go. “Or approval.”

I knew that. I knew it, which is why getting close to the others would have been fruitless, not to mention dangerous. No matter who I targeted, I would’ve gotten Kane’s attention anyway, which is why I went for him from the beginning.

“How do you know I want to get close?” I ask, not bothering to deny his words. Kane is smart and trying to deflect would only backfire.

“Aside from applying to be part of the medical team, you’ve been asking around about administrative positions and trying to befriend those close to the team members.”

He found out about all that? How?

I stare at his ring. Vencor. Of course, as a member, he knows this place inside out.

Maybe I underestimated just how intricately they’re woven into the university’s and the team’s fabric.

“Have I made you suspicious of me?” I smile, deliberately making it appear awkward. Sheepish, even.

“I wouldn’t call it suspicion. Curiosity is more accurate.”

I swallow the saliva stuck in my throat. “What are you curious about?”

“Your motive.”

“I can’t be a fan?”

“You can. But your actions don’t reflect your claim.”

“How so?”

“First, you’re not wearing any of our jerseys, and while that’s normal for an occasional viewer, it’s bizarre for a fan. Second, you said you only got into hockey recently, and yet you seem to know about my and Callahan’s play style as if you’ve been studying it instead of watching the game for fun. Lastly, if you were a fan, you would’ve jumped at the opportunity of getting a picture with me, Armstrong, and Callahan, but you were dead set on hiding and eavesdropping, so that tells me you have an agenda. That agenda is less related to the team and has more to do with my ring, because you’ve stolen at least three peeks at it since the start of this conversation.”

Damn, he’s good.

He’s so good, I’m speechless.

The way he delivered his analysis in tranquil, precise words is both impressive and nerve-racking. Just how far has he read into me?

And is it even safe to get entangled with him?

He’s frighteningly perceptive and a master at recognizing and linking patterns. It’s fascinating on the rink but lethal in real life.

Kane raises his hand, showcasing his index finger. “Do you know the meaning behind this ring?”

“Everyone in town does,” I say in a small voice.

“Correct, but probably not as well as you do. In reality, only a few have deciphered the actual meaning.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about⁠—”

“No. Don’t play dumb. It insults both of our intelligence.”

“What do you want me to say?” I whisper, feeling trapped between his claws without his even having to touch me.

“What does this ring mean, Dahlia?”

“I don’t…know.”

“We’re done here.” He spins around and starts skating away.

I panic, my breathing coming in a chopped rhythm, and I draw endless circles on my thumb with my index finger.

I know, I just know that if he leaves, he’ll never give me the time of day again. He seemed disappointed by my reply. He was fully aware I was lying, and instead of calling me out, he just chose to put an end to the conversation.

“Wait! It means you’re a Senior Vencor member.”

He comes to a halt a small distance away and slowly turns around. His expression is its usual brand of calm and distant. “What other ranks exist?”

“Trial, Member, Senior, and Founder,” I say slowly, revealing I’m more entrenched than anyone should be.

I’ve completely put my cards on the table now, and it’s his decision whether to flip them over or let me play. I could’ve lied and denied it, but Kane proved he has zero tolerance for bullshit.

The low timbre of his voice fills the air. “And how did a college student such as myself get a very high Senior position?”

“Because you are…”

“I am?”

“Biologically related to a founding family.”

“True and false. I went through the ranks like everyone else. I just started early.”

Oh. I didn’t know that. I thought he, Jude, and Preston had gotten access solely because of familial ties.

“How…early?” I ask.

“Early.” He speaks the single word with enough command to ward off any further questions. “Now, why don’t you tell me the reason you’re so well-versed in Vencor when you were born in Maine and grew up in New Jersey, Dahlia?”

I swallow hard. Even though that information is public and mentioned on my résumé, the fact that he remembers it so clearly is unsettling.

“You know I’m on a scholarship, right?” I start in a composed tone.

“Yes, and?”

“If you’ve done your research, then you must know I receive grants. I was born to a poor fisherman and seamstress in a little coastal town in Maine, but I don’t remember much of that life, because my parents died when I was six. But I do recall that Mom fixed the same dress at least five or six times instead of getting me a new one. I remember never having enough food to quiet the hunger in my stomach. The situation didn’t change when I was thrown into the system and moved from one abusive home to another. Kids like us don’t get nice things. Some of us become druggies, others sell their bodies, and many die in freak accidents. Nobody cares about the nameless corpse by the side of the road. We’re just statistics that feed the machine. The few who make it, like me, are still treated like outsiders and discriminated against, no matter how book-smart or street-smart we learn to become.”

I pause, largely because of the lump that’s obstructing my throat. I didn’t mean to get personal, but I have a feeling anything less than the truth will not move Kane in the slightest. For that matter, he might look down on me if I lie—he was certainly ready to axe the conversation when I attempted it.

Although I’ve just laid my unglamorous life out in front of him, he doesn’t react. There’s not even a tic in his monk-like expression. He doesn’t appear to be calculating whether or not I’m telling the truth.

“And?” is all he says, prompting me for more, sliding ghostly hands through my brain as if he wants to pick it apart piece by piece.

“And I’m tired of being on the outside. For once, I want to be on the inside. I want to wake up in the morning and not worry about how to survive for one more day. I heard Vencor can help with that. That if I become a member, my future will be guaranteed, like it has been for countless politicians, businessmen, and even ex-presidents. I want to be part of the powerful instead of the weak.”

“And you thought the best way to do that would be to get close to the hockey team, where three players are Seniors and a few others are Members, and have one of the Seniors invite you to the upcoming initiation.”

Not a question, but I still say, “Yeah.”

“You thought right. I’ll make your wish come true.”

My lips part.

Did Kane just agree to help me without my having to resort to all the diabolical plans I had prepared?

What?

Why?

Does he perhaps pity me?

Honestly, I don’t care. I’ll be the most pitiful puppy if that gets me in. I have no time to focus on my pride in situations like this.

“Really?” I ask, still not believing my ears.

“Yes. I already had someone else in mind for the initiation, but I’ll take you instead.”

A shiver goes through me when he says, ‘I’ll take you instead.’ Even though his tone doesn’t change, there’s a strange shift in his expression.

A smile curves his lips, and I stop and stare. Am I supposed to find him this gorgeous?

It soon disappears as his mechanical tone fills the air. “Fair warning. This is not your run-of-the-mill initiation or some hazing ceremony where you’ll be asked to take silly dares. You will be tested. You’ll be pushed to your limits. And you’ll be asked to offer your body and soul at the altar of demented people. If you refuse, you’re out and banished for life. If you don’t prove to be willing to be used for Vencor, you’ll be sabotaged until you escape the country or shoot yourself. And if you betray Vencor, no one will find your bones. Are you sure you still want to participate? Sometimes, being an outsider is much safer than being a blood-bound insider.”

Another chill runs through me and I tighten my hands on my phone. I’ve heard a lot of rumors and I’m part of dark web forums that discuss theories and stories about what these people are capable of.

Kane’s words said in a neutral newscaster voice shouldn’t shake me, but they do.

If I’d heard this a year ago, I would’ve turned around and left, but now?

Now, I have nothing to lose. And if I must use my life to avenge my sister, so be it.

So I say in a resolved, dead voice, “I’m sure.”

Kane watches me, neither surprised nor approving. “If you change your mind before you’re accepted, say a word only the two of us know and I’ll make it stop. No matter what it is. Let’s go with…red.”

I nod. “Why are you helping me?”

He taps my cheek with his index finger on which he’s wearing the ring. The cold metal sends a chill through me, but that’s nothing compared to the electrifying fire that spreads down my belly as his skin touches mine.

“I’m curious if you’ll last and how far you’ll go, my fake fan.” His smile drops as he pats my cheek one final time. “Don’t disappoint me.”