Chapter 4 Welcome to hell

Chapter 004

The Tryout

RAVENNA

I strode toward the rink later in the afternoon after... a lecture that went on for about three hours and chemistry class held in a lab— my boots were smacking the ground and I was still rocking my black biker gear: tight pants, white top, and that jacket that made me feel untouchable. My red hair bounced with every step.

Samantha hurried after me, her sneakers squeaking as she tried to keep up. Her face was all worried, her blonde ponytail swinging as she grabbed my arm.

“Ravenna, please,” she said, her eyes widened with fear and voice low but filled with urgency. “Just drop this. The hockey team? If you don't know, that's Darius’s territory. You already pissed him off in class. Why make it worse?”

I didn’t slow down, I give a damn about what she said. “Because I think I love getting under his skin,” I said, flashing her a grin. “He thinks he’s untouchable. I’m gonna show him he’s not.”

Samantha’s eyes widened the more .“You’re crazy! Darius is the captain, and the team’s all werewolves. They’re not going to go easy on you. Ravenna, I’m serious, this could go bad.”

I stopped for a second, turning to face her. Her hands were clenched, and she looked like she was about to bolt. I got it, she was scared for me even though it was weird and we had just met.

But I wasn’t backing down. Not now, not ever. “Sam, I’ve dealt with worse than a bunch of wolves with egos,” I said. “I’m doing this and that's final. You can cheer me on or go hide, but I’m not changing my mind.”

She groaned, running a hand through her hair. “You’re impossible.”

“Yeah, and I think you love me for it,” I said, winking before turning back toward the rink.

The place was packed when we got there. Word had spread fast, some human girl daring to try out for the hockey team, the sacred werewolf club.

Professor Bonn was already on the ice, clipboard in hand, barking instructions to the team. He spotted me and raised an eyebrow, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Ravenna, you showed up. Good. I like people who keep their word.”

“Told you I would,” I said, crossing my arms.

He nodded toward the side of the rink. “The women’s team tryouts are over there. Head to the locker room and get changed.”

I smirked, shaking my head. “No, Professor. I’m trying out for the men’s team.”

Samantha gasped beside me. “Ravenna, you’re joking, right?” She grabbed my arm, trying to pull me away. “Tell him you’re joking!”

I yanked my arm free, giving her a look that could’ve frozen the rink. “I’m not joking, Sam. Back off.”

Then I turned to Bonn, my smirk firmly in place. “I’m trying out for the men’s team, and you’re the one running it, right? So let’s do this.”

The crowd around us which had gone quiet as soon as I approached Bonn suddenly erupted into murmurs.

Bonn and l, clearly thrown, but he recovered fast. “You’re sure about this? Like I said, "It's not gonna be easy.”

“I don’t do it easy,” I said.

He studied me for a second, then handed me a key. “Locker room’s that way. Go change and Good luck, Ravenna. You’re gonna need it.”

I took the key and headed to the locker room, ignoring the stares and whispers. Samantha trailed after me, still muttering about how I was making a huge mistake.

I turned her out, focusing on the fire in my gut. This wasn’t just about hockey. This was about showing everyone, especially Darius, that I wasn’t someone to mess with.

In the locker room, I swapped my biker gear for hockey pads and a jersey. The gear felt heavy, but I’d ridden bikes through worse than a little extra weight. When I stepped onto the ice, the snickers started immediately. The men’s team was already out there, sticks in hand, eyeing me like I was a joke.

Darius stood at the center of the rink, his helmet tucked under his arm, looking like he thought he was king of the world. His black and green eyes locked on me, and I could see the anger from our class argument still burning there.

“Alright, let’s get started,” Bonn called, blowing his whistle. “Ravenna, you’re up. Show us what you’ve got.”

Samantha had found a spot in the stands, looking like she was about to puke. “You’ve got this, Ravenna!” she shouted, her voice cutting through the chatter. A few kids laughed, but she didn’t care, and neither did I.

The tryout started with drills—skating, passing, shooting. I wasn’t a pro, but I’d spent years dodging obstacles on a bike, weaving through traffic, balancing speed and control.

The ice was just another road. I skated hard, keeping my movements sharp, my eyes on the puck. The team didn’t make it easy. Darius and his buddies targeted me from the start, slamming into me every chance they got.

“Watch it, new girl,” one of them growled as he shoved me into the boards during a passing drill. I stumbled but caught myself, pushing back with my shoulder.

“Do you have to hit harder than that,” I said, skating away before he could respond.

Samantha’s voice rang out from the stands. “Go, Ravenna! Keep moving!”

Next up was a scrimmage. Darius was on the other team, and I could tell he was out for blood. He skated toward me during the first play, his stick low, aiming to steal the puck.

I faked left, then spun right, slipping past him. The crowd gasped, and Samantha screamed, “Yes! That’s my girl!”

Darius’s face darkened, and he came at me harder the next time. He slammed into me, his elbow catching my ribs. I hit the ice, pain shooting through my side, but I was up in a second, grabbing the puck before he could take it.

“Nice try, golden boy,” I called, speeding down the rink. I passed it to a teammate, who sent it back, and I took a shot. The puck sailed past the goalie, hitting the net clean. The crowd went silent, then exploded into murmurs. Samantha was on her feet, screaming, “That’s it, Ravenna! Score!”

Darius skated up beside me, his eyes blazing. “Lucky shot,” he said, his voice low and pissed.

“Lucky’s not my style,” I said, smirking as I skated away.

The rest of the scrimmage was brutal. Darius and his friends kept coming for me, shoving, tripping, anything to throw me off. One guy, a big dude with a buzz cut, checked me so hard I went sprawling, my stick clattering across the ice.

The crowd laughed, and I heard someone yell, “Go back to your bike, human!”

Samantha’s voice cut through. “Get up, Ravenna! Show them!”

I grabbed my stick and was back on my feet in seconds, my legs burning but my head clear. I wasn’t gonna let them break me.

I’d been through too much for that and besides I made a promise to my sister, and this was just a step to getting it fulfilled and I wasn't going to back down.

The next play, I stole the puck from the buzz-cut guy, dodged Darius’s attempt to slam me again, and fired another shot.

It hit the net, and Samantha’s scream was the loudest sound in the rink. “That’s my girl! Keep going!”

By the end of the tryout, I was bruised, sweaty, and breathing hard, but I’d scored three goals and held my own against guys twice my size.

The whistle blew, and Bonn called everyone to the center. The team gathered around, most of them glaring at me, Darius at the front like he was ready to explode.

Bonn looked at me, his expression torn. “Ravenna, I’ll be honest. I didn’t expect this. You’re fast, you’re tough, and you’ve got instincts most of these guys could learn from. But a woman on the men’s team? That’s… unconventional.”

“I’m not here to be conventional,” I said, wiping sweat off my forehead. “I earned my spot, didn’t I?”

The crowd was whispering again, and I caught a few words: human, crazy, she’s got guts.

Samantha was still in the stands, clapping like a maniac, her face lit up with pride.

Bonn nodded slowly. “You did. You’re on the team.”

The team muttered, some shaking their heads, others looking like they wanted to argue.

Darius’s face was a mask of fury, his jaw so tight I thought it might crack. He didn’t say a word, but I could feel the heat of his anger from across the ice. I’d humiliated him, and he knew it.

Bonn dismissed us, and I skated to the edge of the rink, pulling off my helmet.

Samantha ran down from the stands, practically tackling me. “You were insane out there!” she said. “I thought you were gonna die, but you killed it!”

“Told you I’d be fine,” I said, grinning despite the ache in my ribs.

As I headed toward the locker room, Darius skated up beside me. I could feel the tension rolling off him, like he was barely holding it together.

He leaned in close, his breath hot on my ear, and whispered, “Welcome to hell.”