Chapter 100 The Trade Rumors

Chapter 100 The Trade Rumors


CASSIAN’S POV

I heard my name before I even reached the locker room door.

It did not come as a full sentence at first, it was just fragments cutting through the hallway noise like something sharp had slipped into a place it did not belong, I slowed without meaning to. My skates were still off, but it felt like I was already off balance anyway.

I heard talk about trade rumors, serious interest, big packages and management listening.

I stood there longer than I should have, staring at the floor tiles like they could rearrange themselves into something that made more sense. 

They didn’t.

My grip tightened around my gear bag strap.

Inside the locker room, it was normal noise, too normal. It was that kind of sound athletes make when they’re trying not to acknowledge a shift in the air.

I pushed the door open.

The room didn’t go silent completely, but it changed. 

I saw Torin first.

He was sitting on the bench in half his gear, towel around his neck, elbows resting on his knees. Like he had already been waiting. 

His eyes met mine immediately.

I didn’t move further in, neither did I sit.

I stopped near the door.

“Tell me it is not true,” I said.

Nobody spoke right away. A couple of guys glanced up, then back down fast, suddenly interested in their gloves, their skates, anything that wasn’t this moment.

Torin stood up.

“I heard it,” he said.

My jaw tightened. “So you knew.”

“I didn’t want you hearing it from someone else before a game.”

“That is not what I asked you.”

He stepped forward. 

“I knew there were talks,” he said. “Nothing has been finalized or signed.”

I let out a short laugh that had no humor in it. “That is always what people say right before it becomes real.”

His expression didn’t change, but I saw something tighten in him anyway.

“I didn’t hide it from you,” he said. “I chose timing.”

“That sounds better when you say it out loud,” I replied. “It still means I wasn’t the first person you told.”

The room felt smaller now. It felt crowded, like even the air was listening.

Torin didn’t look away.

“I didn’t tell you because I know you,” he said. “And I know what it does to you when noise gets in your head before a game.”

I took a step forward before I realized I had moved.

“So you decided for me.”

“No,” he said immediately. “I decided when to tell you, not whether you deserved to know.”

I stopped just short of him.

“That is a fine line,” I said.

“It is the truth,” he replied.

I studied him. 

“You think I am replaceable,” I said quietly.

His answer came instantly.

“No.”

I didn’t blink. “Then why keep it from me?”

Torin exhaled once, controlled. His hands flexed slightly at his sides like he was holding himself in place more than holding anything else.

“Because I knew what you would do with it,” he said.

“And what is that supposed to mean?”

“You would carry it into the game,” he said. “You would carry it onto the ice. Every shift would feel like you were being evaluated.”

I nodded slowly. “And I am not already being evaluated every shift?”

“That is not what I meant.”

“Then explain it better.”

He stepped closer again, close enough that I could feel the space between us shrinking in a way that had nothing to do with the conversation anymore.

“I didn’t like hearing it either,” he said.

That made me pause for half a second.

I looked at him again. “But you were fine not telling me.”

His jaw tightened slightly.

“I wasn’t fine,” he said. “I just chose when to say it.”

I let out a breath through my nose. “That is a dangerous habit.”

“I know.”

The room behind us moved on like nothing was happening. Tape ripped, a locker slammed shut. Someone cleared their throat, but nobody stepped in.

This was ours.

And everyone knew it.

I lowered my voice.

“So what happens if they come back with something bigger?” I asked.

Torin didn’t hesitate.

“Then the organization decides,” he said.

“That is not an answer.”

“I know,” he said again.

There was a pause after that.

A long one.

I could feel my frustration shifting, not disappearing, just changing shape, it wasn’t just about the rumor anymore.

It was about not being in control of my own name in conversations I was already part of.

I stepped closer.

“Did you want me gone?” I asked.

It came out sharper than I meant it to.

The room seemed to still slightly after I said it.

Torin didn’t react the way I expected.

“No,” he said.

He wasn’t defensive or emotional, he was just certain.

I held his gaze searchingly.

Nothing in his expression moved away from that answer.

“I don’t want that for you,” he said. “Ever.”

My throat tightened slightly before I could stop it.

“But you still didn’t tell me,” I said.

“I was trying to protect your focus.”

“Don’t do that,” I said immediately.

That stopped him.

“I don’t need protection from rumors,” I said.

“I know,” he replied. “But I also know you.”

That landed differently.

I looked at him longer.

Too much history sitting in the space between us for something this small to feel this big.

“If it happens,” I said, quieter now, “I am not finding out from anyone else.”

Torin stepped in just slightly.

“You won’t,” he said.

I held his eyes.

“That is not something you can guarantee,” I said.

He didn’t flinch.

“Then I will be the one who tells you,” he said.

That hung there.

Heavier than the rumor itself.

I nodded once.

“Fine,” I said.

Neither of us relaxed.

I turned slightly towards the door.

“I need to get to practice,” I said.

Behind me, I felt him shift like he wanted to say something else, but didn’t.

I almost made it out.

Then his voice stopped me again.

“Cassian.”

I paused, not turning fully.

“If anything changes,” he said, “you hear it from me, I promise.”

I nodded once.

“Make sure it stays that way,” I said.

And I walked out.