The Assistant Coach (BOOK 1: OMEN KING SERIES)

|𝟸𝟿|

Leia Welsh

I can practically taste the tension in the air as the Iverton players enter the rink, their loud laughter echoing off the walls. They strut around like they own the place, tossing their gear onto the benches without a care in the world.

Coach Johnson shoots me a knowing look and mutters under his breath, "You know it's gonna be chaos when they see them out here." I nod grimly, already bracing myself for the impending showdown.

Just as I'm mentally preparing for the storm, a voice calls out my name from behind. Adam. I ignore him and I turn my attention to the aisles to see Ari, cool as a cucumber, lounging on the seats with a book in hand. She looks completely unbothered, flipping through pages with an adorable smile.

The sound of laughter grows louder as my boys enter the rink, their faces a mixture of surprise and anger. They freeze in their tracks before quickly rushing onto the ice, their expressions full of defiance. It's clear they're ready for a fight.

"Stop!" I shout, my voice cutting through the air like a knife as I stand in front of the players.

But do they listen? Of course not. They just keep sizing each other up, like a bunch of preening peacocks.

"I brought them here, so cut out the macho guy crap, both teams," I say, my eyes shooting daggers at both teams. And finally, they pause, the intensity of their gazes softening slightly.

"Go do your drills, everyone," I command, my voice slightly cracking.

I skate to the end of the rink, my eyes scanning the players as they begrudgingly get into position for their drills. My team is on one side, shooting daggers at the Iverton players, but still managing to focus on their own drills.

The Iverton players, on the other hand, seem completely unfazed by the hostile stares. They seem more scared of Adam's smile than anything else. I shake my head in disbelief and skate around the rink, carefully observing everyone's movements.

Surprisingly, they're doing decently well with the Iverton team breathing down their necks. Maybe all that pent-up hatred has actually driven them to be somewhat competent.

Who knew?

As I watch with annoyance, a cocky player holds his hockey stick out menacingly. I open my mouth to warn Kateb, but before I can even get the words out, he tumbles into the ice with a loud groan.

Kateb, never one to back down from a challenge, skates up to the player with a fierce look in his eyes. "Kateb, whatever crazy thing you're about to pull, don't." I call out, my voice filled

with firmness as I notice Ari shooting daggers at the guy from behind the barricades.

"He totally did that on purpose–" Ari begins, but I cut her off with a pointed look.

Turning my attention back to the player, I raise an eyebrow and adopt a nonchalant stance, crossing my arms over my chest.

"Hey, you there, Mr. Mystery name, why don't you mosey on back to your own side of the ice?" I quip, watching as Owen steps in and guides Kateb away from the confrontation.

"It's Martin." he sneers, his voice dripping with anger as he glares at me. I roll my eyes, unimpressed by his bitchy attitude.

I skate towards Warren, the crunch of the frozen ice beneath my blades echoing in the rink. I snatch Warren's hockey stick out of his hand, feeling the familiar weight and grip in my own. With a grin, I glide over to Martin, who looks down at me with a mixture of annoyance and confusion. His breath forms small clouds in the frigid air, his face red from exertion and anger.