Chapter 6 Chapter 6
Lena
I didn’t know what annoyed me more.
The fact that Kane showed up at Mason’s apartment like he owned the place—
Or the fact that I left before getting answers.
Cold wind slapped against my face as I crossed campus.
Blackthorn looked different when you were angry.
The old brick buildings felt heavier.
The pathways seemed longer.
And every laughing student suddenly became irritated.
My phone buzzed.
Zara:
You disappeared. Are you alive?
I typed back immediately.
Me:
Barely.
Three dots appeared.
Zara:
That drama usually means gossip. Meet me at Ash Café.
Honestly?
Coffee sounded necessary.
—
Ash Café sat near the journalism building.
Warm lights.
Crowded tables.
Music low enough to ignore.
I found Zara already waiting with two drinks.
She took one look at me and sat straighter.
“That bad?”
I dropped into the seat.
“You know what?” I said. “I’m officially done with mysterious men and emotional secrets.”
Her eyebrows lifted.
“Kane?”
“And Mason.”
That surprised her.
“What did your brother do?”
I rubbed my forehead.
“I don’t even know.”
Which was the problem.
I told her everything.
Or most of it.
Kane showing up.
The argument.
Mason acting weird.
The phone calls.
The way both of them kept talking around the truth instead of saying it.
Zara listened carefully.
Then leaned back.
“Okay.”
“Okay what?”
“Something definitely happened between them.”
“No kidding.”
“And it sounds serious.”
I stared into my coffee.
“That’s what scares me.”
Because Mason never acted like this.
Protective?
Sure.
Private?
Always.
But tense?
Secretive?
That felt new.
Or maybe not new.
Maybe I’d just ignored it too long.
“You think Kane knows something?” Zara asked.
I looked toward the café window.
Snow threatened outside.
Gray clouds hanging low.
“I think he knows too much.”
And somehow that bothered me more than it should.
Because Kane Ravenwood acted like someone carrying history he didn’t want touched.
And stupidly—
Part of me wanted to know why.
Zara suddenly grinned.
I narrowed my eyes.
“Why are you smiling?”
“You keep saying his full name.”
“What?”
“Kane Ravenwood.”
“So?”
“That usually means you’re thinking about someone.”
I nearly choked on coffee.
“No.”
“Oh, this is excellent.”
“I hate you.”
“You don’t hate me.” She pointed her straw at me dramatically. “You hate him.”
And maybe she was right.
Because hate felt safer.
Safer than admitting Kane unsettled me.
Safer than admitting his voice kept replaying in my head.
Safer than remembering how close he stood yesterday.
I shoved the thought away.
My phone buzzed again.
Unknown number.
I frowned.
Unknown:
Stop asking questions.
My stomach dropped.
I stared at the screen.
“What?” Zara asked.
I showed her.
Her expression changed instantly.
“That’s not funny.”
“I know.”
Another message arrived.
Unknown:
Some secrets stay buried for a reason.
A cold slid through me.
For a second I just sat there.
Then Zara grabbed my wrist.
“Block it.”
I looked down again.
No profile picture.
No name.
Just the message.
And suddenly Mason’s face flashed through my mind.
You don’t know him.
Then Kane:
You should be careful.
My chest tightened.
“It’s probably a prank,” I said.
But even I didn’t sound convinced.
Zara looked uneasy.
“Lena…”
“I’m fine.”
“You don’t look fine.”
I forced a smile.
“Congratulations. You have eyes.”
She didn’t laugh.
And honestly?
Neither did I.
—
By evening, the weather had turned ugly.
Wind.
Light snow.
Campus lights glowing against dark skies.
I should’ve gone back to the dorm.
Instead, I headed toward the journalism building.
Because distraction felt better than overthinking.
The hallway upstairs sat nearly empty.
Most students had already left.
I pushed open the newspaper office door and found Professor Bennett sorting papers.
He looked up.
“Hart.”
“Please tell me you have work.”
He adjusted his glasses.
“You look stressed.”
“Work, professor.”
A small smile.
“I may have something.”
He handed me a file.
“Campus feature.”
I scanned the papers.
Then I froze.
My mood immediately soured.
“Absolutely not.”
He looked amused.
“It’s a simple assignment.”
“It’s hockey.”
“And?”
“It’s the Ravens.”
“Your student paper covers sports too.”
I dropped the file onto the desk.
“You’re doing this on purpose.”
“You still haven’t interviewed Ravenwood.”
Of course.
I crossed my arms.
“He refuses.”
“That’s unfortunate.”
“You sent me to a human iceberg.”
His smile widened.
“Persistent journalists get results.”
I stared at him.
Then sighed.
“I hate academia.”
“Tomorrow,” he said calmly. “Team media day.”
My stomach sank.
“No.”
“Yes.”
“Professor—”
“You want senior editor recommendations?” His voice stayed gentle. “Earn them.”
I hated when adults made valid points.
He handed the file back.
“Media room. Noon.”
Great.
Just fantastic.
I left the office feeling worse.
And colder.
The journalism building emptied into a narrow side walkway leading toward campus parking.
Normally safe.
Normally busy.
Tonight?
Too quiet.
My boots crunched softly against snow.
The wind tugged at my coat.
And halfway toward the parking lot—
I noticed footsteps.
Slow.
Behind me.
I turned.
Nothing.
Just darkness.
My pulse sped up.
Don’t be dramatic.
Probably another student.
I kept walking.
The footsteps returned.
Closer.
My grip tightened around my bag.
I turned again.
Still nobody.
Now my heartbeat felt stupidly loud.
The unknown texts suddenly didn’t feel funny anymore.
I reached for my phone—
And a shadow moved near the parking entrance.
I stopped.
My breathing stalled.
A figure stood partly hidden near the concrete wall.
Male.
Tall.
Watching.
Fear climbed my spine.
“Hello?” I called.
No answer.
The figure stepped forward.
My stomach dropped.
And before I could react—
A second shadow appeared behind him.
Then a familiar voice cut through the dark.
“What the hell are you doing?”
The first man stiffened.
I turned sharply.
Kane.
Black jacket.
Snow dusting his shoulders.
Gray eyes cold enough to freeze blood.
The stranger backed away immediately.
Too quickly.
Like he recognized trouble.
Kane took one step forward.
The man disappeared toward the parking exit without a word.
Silence hit hard.
Snow drifted between us.
I stared after the stranger.
Then at Kane.
My pulse still raced.
“What—”
“You shouldn’t be here alone.”
His voice sounded calm.
Too calm.
Anger arrived before gratitude.
“Are you following me?”
His jaw tightened.
“No.”
“Then why are you here?”
His gaze moved briefly toward where the man disappeared.
Then back to me.
“Practice.”
The arena sat nearby.
Right.
Still—
Something felt wrong.
My voice sharpened.
“Who was th
at?”
“I don’t know.”
“You’re lying.”
His expression stayed unreadable.
“You think everyone lies.”
“You haven’t given me many reasons not to.”
For a second neither of us moved.
Snow landed softly in his dark hair.
And annoyingly—
He looked unfairly good standing there.
I hated that observation immediately.
“You got messages,” he said.
I froze.
My pulse stumbled.
“How do you know that?”
His eyes held mine.
Then quietly—
“Because Mason did too.”
And suddenly the cold didn’t feel like weather anymore.
