Page 1 of Lords of Ruin: Cherished

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DAMIEN

The crowd screams, echo upon echo of “Dallas Jags, Dallas Jags”as they stomp their feet in anticipation. The team and I sit under the tunnel listening to the intense screams and endless ruckus. Everyone’s lips twitches up in excitement or adrenaline, besides mine which were firmly in a straight line.

“Come on goalie,” a young kid named Julius and the fastest winger on the team, says as he slings his arms over my shoulders with a lazy smile. “Lighten up—it’s your last season and then you can get rid of us.”

I shrug Julius off, adjusting the strap of my glove as I stare straight ahead. “I’m plenty light.”

He snorts. “Yeah, about as light as a cement block.”

The others chuckle, and I hear someone—probably Nash—mutter something about me being a robot. Doesn’t bother me. I’ve heard it all before. Ever since Willow got married, my focus has been razor-sharp, every distraction cleared from my mind. It’s just me, the ice, and the puck. The way it should be.

“He’s only trying to get in the zone, Julius.” Hayden remarks. He’s the biggest defense man on the team, and the only guy who could probably give me a run for my money in an arm wrestling match. “You know our goalie— silent yet a tortured beast on the ice.”

“Don’t make me sound like I cry in my free time.” I grumble, pushing away Julius’s hands before he can pinch my cheeks.

“But don’t you? Please tell me you do. I have a Jackson betting you’re a softie.” Julius teases, his brown eyes widening as he play begs and I squat down in a wall sit, ignoring him and stretching my groin.

“In my free time I steal ice cream from babies.” I mock, knowing all about their bet.

“You owe me twenty dollars, Julius!” Nash chuckles, and Julius smacks his forehead in annoyance.

“Look at me, I try to give a guy a heart and I end up broke.” Julius pouts just as Nash wraps his arm around his shoulders and noogies him.

“Hey,” the team captain, Monroe, calls out, silencing the chatter. His gaze settles on me with a knowing smirk. “Happy goalie, winning team.”

A few groans sound, but the guys back off, giving me space as the tunnel lights flicker, signaling us to move. I roll my shoulders, exhaling slowly. I don’t need to be happy to win. I just need to stop every goddamn puck that comes my way.

Hayden, Nash, and Monroe remind me of Cast, Vincent, and I, or how we used to be before everything went to shit. Like us, they have been inseparable since high school. They joke around, push each other’s buttons, and fight like brothers, but on the ice, they move as a unit—seamless, instinctive. The wayCast, Vincent, and I used to. Before life got messy. Before choices were made that couldn't be undone.

I used to think nothing could break us. We were untouchable, three parts of a whole, always in sync. We had plans—big ones. Cast would take over his family’s empire, Vincent would build a legacy that stretched beyond the confines of his family, and me? I’d just play. That was all I ever wanted. No power, no business, no responsibilities outside of stopping the puck.

But things don’t stay simple forever. Everything changed the minute I wanted Willow. The minute we all wanted Willow

Now, Vincent has Willow. Cast is—hell, I don’t even know what Cast is anymore. And all I have is this. The game. The ice. The one place where nothing else matters, where I don’t have to think about what was or what could’ve been.

Monroe clears his throat, pulling me out of my head. The guys around me shift, standing taller as he steps forward, rolling his shoulders. The tunnel lights flicker again, casting sharp shadows over his face as he surveys the team with the kind of authority only he carries. He reminds me of Cast, a leader with shadows in his eyes like he’s hiding a part of him that is sinister.

"Alright, listen up," he starts, his voice steady, commanding. "New season, new start. What happened last year? Doesn’t matter. What people say about us? Doesn’t matter. The only thing that does is the game in front of us. And tonight? We set the tone.”

The guys nod, murmuring their agreement.

“We play hard, we play smart, and we play for each other. None of that selfish bullshit. No egos. No half-assed shifts.” His voice sharpens, and he points at Hayden and Nash. “Thatmeans keeping your damn tempers in check and not handing them an early power play.”

Hayden smirks, while Nash rolls his eyes but nods.

Monroe exhales through his nose and continues. “Defense, hold the line. Forwards, push the pace. And Damien—” His gaze snaps to me. “We know you’ll do your job. Just don’t forget we have your back too.”

The guys make a show of tapping my pads, Nash giving me a light shove. "Even if you are a grumpy bastard, we kinda need you.”

Julius chuckles. "Yeah, man. Try not to let the existential crisis get in the way of stopping pucks.”

I shake my head, exhaling slowly, letting their words roll off me. None of it matters once we step onto the ice. Once the game starts, I won’t be thinking about Willow, or Vincent, or Cast.

Just the puck. Just the net. Just the game.

Monroe claps his hands. “Alright, let’s go show them who the fuck we are.”

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