Mazikeen

The cold bathroom tiles dug into my knees. I pressed the cheap burner phone hard against my ear, praying someone would answer. The dial tone mocked me for three long rings before a sharp voice answered.

"What do you want, Jace?" Aunt Sarah snapped. Her tone was dripping with pure venom.

"It is me," I whispered. I kept my voice incredibly low so the guys in the hallway wouldn't hear. "How is Mom? Did she take her meds today?"

"Your mother is a burden," Sarah spat out. "She coughed up blood all morning and ruined my good towels. You Thornes are nothing but parasites. If you don't send the clinic money by Friday, I am throwing her out into the streets."

The line went dead.

I let out a deep sigh, dropping my forehead against the stall door. My chest violently ached against the tight compression binder. I was doing all of this for my mom, putting my entire life on the line every single second, and she was still treated like dirt by our own blood. I wiped a stray tear from my cheek and shoved the phone into my pocket. I had to survive tonight.

I stepped out of the bathroom and bumped right into a solid wall of muscle.

Atlas grabbed the collar of my jersey. His knuckles brushed against my collarbone, sending a jolt of terror straight through me.

"Did you think you could hide in the bathroom all night?" he growled. His breath was hot and smelled like peppermint and pure rage. "It is midnight, Thorne. Time for your physical."

"I am not going." My voice shook terribly.

"You don't have a choice." Atlas dragged me down the hallway.

"I am going to enjoy watching the doctor declare you unfit. You are going to be stripped of that jersey by morning."

The academy clinic smelled like bleach and sterile needles. The pack doctor looked up from his clipboard. He had cold, unfeeling eyes that made my stomach churn.

"Vanderbilt," the doctor nodded at Atlas. "Is this the recruit?"

"Yes," Atlas sneered. He shoved me forward. "Check his ribs. Check his blood. Find out why he plays like a frightened little girl."

The doctor pointed to the exam table. "Shirt off, Thorne. Let us take a look."

My blood froze in my veins. I stood completely still. If I took off the jersey, they would see the binder. They would know everything. The penalty for lying to an Alpha was death.

"Take it off," Atlas ordered. He crossed his arms over his massive chest. His dark tattoos shifted under the harsh fluorescent lights. "Stop wasting my time, runt."

My fingers hovered over the hem of my shirt. I closed my eyes. This was the end. I had failed.

The clinic door suddenly burst open.

"Atlas!"

We all turned around. Eros stood in the doorway. He was out of breath, his blonde hair messy and falling into his eyes. He looked incredibly handsome, a sharp and bright contrast to the dark, suffocating energy Atlas brought into the room.

"What is it, Eros?" Atlas snapped. He looked absolutely furious at the interruption.

"The rival team from Eastbridge," Eros said quickly, looking dead serious. "They just broke into our locker room. They are smashing the hockey sticks and tearing up the ice. Coach wants you down there right now to handle it."

Atlas cursed loudly. He looked at me, his icy blue eyes full of heavy suspicion. "You got lucky tonight. This physical is happening tomorrow. Count on it."

Atlas stormed out of the clinic.

I let out a huge breath, my knees almost giving out completely. I grabbed the edge of the exam table to keep from collapsing.

Eros stayed behind for a second. He looked at me and offered a soft, gentle smile. "Get out of here, Jace. Go back to the dorm before he realizes the gear was already being replaced anyway."

"Thank you," I whispered. My heart did a weird flutter. Eros was actually nice. He was a predator just like the rest of them, but tonight, he was different. I felt drawn to that warm smile.

I went straight back to the dorm room and locked the door tight. Hours passed in pure silence. It was three in the morning when the lock finally clicked open.

Atlas stumbled inside. He looked completely different.

His skin was flushed a deep, angry red. Sweat dripped down his neck and soaked his shirt. He leaned heavily against the doorframe, his breathing ragged and wildly uneven. The room instantly filled with the heavy, intoxicating scent of burnt cedar and dark spices. It was so strong it made my head spin.

He was in rut.

"Atlas?" I asked softly from my narrow cot.

"Shut up," he snarled. His voice was much deeper than usual, almost demonic. "Don't look at me. Look away from me right now."

He tore his shirt off, throwing it to the floor. His broad chest heaved up and down. He looked like a wild beast fighting a cage.

"Are you okay?" I asked. I couldn't help it. He was being so cruel to me, but his fever looked terrifying. He was trembling violently.

"I told you to shut your mouth!" he roared. He slammed his huge fist right into the wall. The plaster cracked under his knuckles. "You disgust me. You are weak and pathetic. Stay on your side of the room before I break your neck."

He collapsed onto his bed, groaning in pure agony. The heat radiating from his body was reaching my side of the room.

I bit my lip hard. If his fever got any higher, it could trigger a fatal wolf seizure. I hated him. I truly did. He was a bully and a tyrant. But I couldn't just sit here and let him die in the dark.

I grabbed the plastic pitcher of cold water from the mini fridge. I poured a glass and slowly, carefully walked over to his bed.

"Atlas," I whispered gently. "Just drink this. It will help cool you down."

"I said get away!"

He lashed out blindly. His large hand hit the glass, sending it shattering into pieces all over the floor. Before I could even step back, his hands grabbed my waist.

I gasped loudly.

He pulled me down hard. We tumbled right onto his mattress. I landed flat on my back, and within a split second, his massive, scorching hot body was hovering directly over me. He pinned both of my wrists above my head with just one of his hands.

My heart hammered violently against my ribs. We were pressed together from chest to knee. I could feel every single hard line of his body. The intense heat of his skin was burning right through my clothes.

Atlas buried his face deep into the crook of my neck. He inhaled sharply. His hot breath sent a massive shiver straight down my spine.

"Vanilla," he groaned against my bare skin. His voice was thick with lust and heavy confusion. "Why do you smell so damn sweet?"

"Let me go," I pleaded. My voice was a tiny, breathless whisper. I was absolutely terrified, but my traitorous body was reacting to his touch in ways I couldn't control.

Atlas slowly lifted his head. His icy blue eyes were completely black with raw desire. He traced his rough thumb over my bottom lip, his gaze dropping to my mouth.

"You don't act like a boy," Atlas whispered, his face inching closer to mine until our lips almost brushed. "And you definitely don't feel like one."

Mazikeen

Atlas’s words hung in the heavy, burning air of the dorm room. You don't feel like a boy.

Panic exploded in my chest. I shoved both of my hands against his scorching shoulders and pushed with every ounce of strength I had. His fever made him sloppy. He lost his balance and rolled off me with a loud, pained groan, hitting the carpeted floor hard.

I scrambled backward until my spine hit the cold wall. My chest heaved violently.

"Get away from me!" I yelled, my voice cracking.

Atlas gripped his head, his knuckles turning white. His breathing was rugged, completely out of control. His icy blue eyes flashed a bright, dangerous gold for a fraction of a second his wolf fighting to take over the rut.

"Get out," he snarled, his voice dropping into a terrifying, guttural pitch. "Get out of here before I lose my mind and mark you myself, Thorne. Run."

I didn't need to be told twice. I grabbed my oversized hoodie from the floor, threw open the heavy door, and bolted out into the freezing hallway. I didn't stop running until I reached the empty locker rooms at the ice arena.

I locked myself in a bathroom stall and curled my knees to my chest. I let out a deep, shaky sigh, burying my face in my hands. He knew. Atlas definitely suspected something. If I made one wrong move on the ice today, he would tear the jersey right off my back and expose me to the entire pack. And then my mother would be thrown into the streets.

I waited until the sun started to rise before I stepped out to prep my gear.

The locker room was empty, smelling faintly of wax and old sweat. I sat on the bench, silently wrapping black tape around the blade of my hockey stick. My hands were still trembling.

"Look who's here. The runt."

I froze. I slowly looked up.

Damon, the left-winger for our team, stood in the doorway with two of his massive friends. Damon hated Jace. He had hated him since we were kids. He had a cruel face and a reputation for deliberately injuring players during the regionals.

"What do you want, Damon?" I muttered, keeping my voice low. "Practice doesn't start for an hour."

"I want you off my line," Damon sneered. He walked over, his heavy boots echoing on the rubber mat. "You cost us the championship last year, Jace. You are weak. You are a complete joke to this pack."

"Take it up with Coach," I said, standing up. I tried to walk past him, but his friend shoved me hard in the chest. I stumbled back, hitting the metal lockers.

"We are taking it up with you," Damon growled. He snatched my freshly taped stick right out of my hands. He raised his knee and snapped the expensive carbon fiber stick perfectly in half.

"Hey!" I yelled. "Are you crazy?"

Damon dropped the broken pieces at my feet. He grabbed the front of my jersey, slamming me against the lockers again. The metal handle dug painfully into my spine.

"I loosened the bolts on your skate blades this morning," Damon whispered with an evil smile. "When Atlas checks you into the boards today, your skates are going to snap. You are going to break your ankles, Jace. And then Vanderbilt will finally kick your pathetic ass out of Northbridge for good."

My stomach turned completely upside down. He tampered with my skates? If I went on the ice at those speeds, I could be killed.

"You are a coward, Damon," I spat at him.

Damon’s eyes darkened. He raised his fist to punch me.

"Touch him, and I will break your arm in three places."

Damon froze. We all looked toward the door.

Eros was leaning casually against the doorframe, a bright green apple in his hand. He took a slow bite, his golden eyes completely cold and deadly as he stared at Damon.

"Eros," Damon stammered, instantly letting go of my jersey. "We were just talking."

"It didn't look like talking," Eros said. He threw the apple core into the trash can and walked over. The alpha energy rolling off him made Damon’s friends immediately step back in submission. "Get out of my locker room, Damon. If I catch you near Thorne again, I will personally strip you of your rank."

Damon swallowed hard, nodding quickly. He and his friends rushed out the door like terrified pups.

I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding, sliding down slightly against the lockers. "Thank you. He broke my stick."

Eros looked down at the broken pieces. His expression softened, and that charming, kind smile returned to his face. "Don't worry about it. Come with me to the back equipment room. I have a spare stick you can use."

"Are you sure? Atlas might get mad if—"

"Atlas is locked in his room dealing with a nasty rut," Eros interrupted gently. "He won't be on the ice today. You are safe, Jace. Come on."

A wave of massive relief washed over me. No Atlas today. I could actually breathe.

I followed Eros out of the locker room and down the dark, narrow hallway that led to the equipment storage. It was a small room filled with spare pads, helmets, and a heavy scent of freshly sharpened steel.

I walked in to look at the rack of sticks.

Click.

I turned around. Eros had just shut the heavy metal door. He slid the deadbolt into place.

"Eros?" I asked, my voice suddenly very small. "Why did you lock the door?"

Eros didn't answer right away. He just stood there staring at me. His breathing was starting to get heavy. The kind, warm smile completely melted off his face, replaced by something dark, hungry, and entirely predatory.

The air in the small room suddenly changed. The smell of pine grew incredibly strong, mixing with a thick, musky scent that made my inner wolf whimper in pure panic.

He was in rut, too.

"Eros, open the door," I said, taking a step back until my hips hit the equipment table.

"Atlas is an idiot," Eros whispered. He took a slow step toward me. "He is so blinded by his own anger that he can't even see what is standing right in front of him."

"I don't know what you are talking about. I just need a stick."

"No, you don't." Eros took another step, trapping me between the table and his solid body. He reached out, his hot fingers lightly brushing against the side of my neck.

I slapped his hand away. "Don't touch me!"

Eros chuckled, a dark, vibrating sound. He grabbed both of my wrists with one hand and pinned them to the table behind my back. He leaned in so close his lips brushed my ear.

"You don't have an Adam's apple," Eros murmured softly. "Your waist is too soft under that bulky jersey. And you smell like sweet vanilla and pure, terrified female."

A tear slipped down my cheek. I was caught. It was all over.

"Please," I begged, my voice breaking. "Please don't tell Atlas. My mom is sick. If I lose this spot, they will throw us out. Please, Eros, I thought you were kind."

"I am kind," Eros said smoothly. His nose traced my jawline, inhaling deeply. His body was burning hot against mine. "I won't tell Atlas a single word. I will keep your little secret, Mazikeen."

I gasped. He knew my real name.

"But silence isn't free," Eros whispered darkly, his golden eyes dropping to my lips. "I am in rut. And you are going to help me through it."

"No," I choked out, trying to thrash against his grip, but he was too strong.

Eros smirked, entirely wicked and ruthless. "If you don't want the Alpha King to find out his favorite punching bag is a girl... you are going to sleep with me. Right here. Right now."

Mazikeen

“What am I going to do???" this can’t be over, I can’t let this man have his way with me, I can’t allow that.

“Please!!! Let me go!!!” I pleaded with him softly, but it was to no avail, I could feel his hands trying to lose the pants I had on.

"Please... let me go," I pleaded.

My voice was weak, I could feel myself trembling.

Eros didn't listen.

The look in his golden eyes scared me more than anything Atlas had ever done. Atlas was cruel and loud. Eros was calm. That somehow felt worse.

I squeezed my eyes shut, waiting for whatever was about to happen.

Then suddenly…

"Who's there?!" a bright flashlight cut through the darkness, Eros immediately stepped away from me.

The equipment room door swung open.

One of the night captains stood there holding a flashlight.

"What are you two doing in there? Eros released me instantly.

I stumbled backward, breathing hard.

"To your rooms. Now!" The captain barked. I didn't wait for a second warning.

I rushed out of the room so fast I nearly tripped over my own feet.

Thank you, thank you, thank you!!! The words repeated endlessly inside my head.

I had never been so relieved in my life.

I hurried back to the dorm room and quietly pushed the door open.

Atlas was asleep. For once he looked peaceful, like he couldn’t hurt a fly.

The vein lines of his face that were hard while he shouted for me were softer.

His dark hair fell across his forehead, his breaths were slow and steady.

It was strange seeing him like that, almost human.

I quickly crawled into my tiny cot in the corner my entire body shook with the memory of Eros's eyes, making my stomach twist.

I wrapped my arms around myself and stared at the ceiling.

I missed Mom, I missed home, I missed being Mazikeen…

“Ooh this stupid bind on my chest!!!” I released it a bit before resting my self on the bed properly.

Eventually exhaustion pulled me under.

And for the first time in days, I slept, almost forgetting my worries

THudddd!!!! a sharp kick hit the side of my bed. "Get up!!!!"

My eyes refused to open, everything felt blurry and heavy. I needed to sleep.

"Get up, Thorne!!!"

Another kick, I groaned.

Slowly and painfully, I opened my eyes.

Atlas was standing over me. Wonderful. Just wonderful. His rut seemed to have calmed down, but unfortunately, his personality hadn't.

"Rise and shine, runt."

I rubbed my eyes.

"What time is it?"

"Practice starts in twenty minutes."

I immediately sat up. "What?!" Atlas smirked, "There he is." I glared at him.

He seemed way too happy about my panic.

"You're drooling on your pillow."

"I'm not."

"You were."

"I wasn't."

Atlas laughed.

The sound caught me off guard, It wasn't cruel this time, just amused.

Then his expression hardened again, almost like he was bipolar.

"There are five minutes left before I drag you out of this room myself."

"I heard you."

"Five minutes."

"Fine."

"Four minutes and fifty-nine seconds."

"Atlas!" He grinned, that annoying grin, and then he walked away.

I threw a pillow at his back. Unfortunately, I missed, he didn't even turn around.

"Nice throw, runt." I hated him, absolutely hated him.

The morning air outside was cold, in fact almost freezing, my lungs burned as I followed the team onto the training field.

Coach Miller stood with his clipboard.

His face already looked disappointed. I mean, the game hasn’t even started, why did he look so disappointed

That couldn't be a good sign.

"Ten laps around the academy grounds!" he shouted.

"Move!"

Everyone took off immediately. I pushed my legs as hard as I could, But it wasn't enough.

It never was. The others were wolves, strong, fast, and powerful. Worst of it, they were male.

I was fighting against my own body every single day. Within minutes I was falling behind, Again.

"Come on, Thorne!"

Someone laughed.

"Did your legs stop working?" More laughter followed, but I ignored it.

Just keep moving, keep moving, that was my strategy, the only thing I could use to survive.

Unfortunately, Atlas noticed. Of course he did, he always did. "Faster!" His voice boomed across the field.

"You run like an eighty-year-old grandmother!" the team erupted into laughter.

My cheeks burned, I pushed harder. My lungs were on fire. My legs felt like they weren't mine anymore, but it was still not enough.

I remained last, dead last. Exactly where everyone expected me to be.

By lap seven, my vision was blurry, sweat dripped down my neck, and my chest burned underneath the binder I was on.

Every breath hurt. "Pathetic!" Damon shouted.

"You call yourself a wolf?" "Leave him alone," another player laughed.

"At least puppies are cute. There was more laughter.

I clenched my teeth, just keep running. Don't react, don’t cry, and don’t give them what they want.

The final lap started, I was exhausted, every step felt heavier than the last.

Then my foot caught on a loose patch of dirt.

My balance fell off, I hit the ground hard, and I could feel the pain through my knees and palms.

For a second everything went silent, then came the laughter, it was louder than before.

"Typical Thorne!" What a loser! Stay down! That is where you belong!"

I closed my eyes, this was humiliating, perhaps they were right, I didn't belong here, maybe I was fooling myself.

"Hey!!!!"

The voice cut into my thoughts, surprising me. "Get up." I opened my eyes.

A hand was stretched toward me. For a second I simply stared. Nobody ever helped me, at least not here, Not at Northbridge. Nobody.

Slowly I looked up.

A guy from the reserve line stood there. He had dark hair with brown eyes, I hardly recognized him.

I didn't even know hisname., "Come on," he said.

"You'll catch a cold lying there. The joke was terrible, yet somehow it made me smile.

I hesitated before taking his hand, He pulled me up easily.

"Thank you."

"No problem," he shrugged like it wasn't a big deal, maybe to him it wasn't, but to me it felt like a big deal.

A tiny act of kindness in a place that seemed determined to destroy me.

"Move!" Atlas suddenly barked.

Everyone immediately scattered, and the moment was gone. He turned and jogged back toward the field.

But at least it happened, at least someone was nice to me.

Practice finally ended hours later, my entire body ached, I just wanted water to drink or maybe take a shower.

Maybe a few minutes without someone insulting me, I needed to feel the water running through my body while I enjoyed that moment of silence.

Apparently that was too much to ask. I walked toward the cooler and grabbed a paper cup.

The cold water felt amazing, I took one sip, then a hand suddenly grabbed my arm.

The cup fell. Water splashed across the floor, my heart nearly stopped.

Eros.

He shoved me backward.

My back slammed against the locker room door.

The impact from the hit nearly took me out.

"Eros!"

His golden eyes were dark, dangerously dark. "You can run from me all you want," he said quietly, "but you can't hide forever."

Fear crawled through my stomach.

"Eros, stop, no!!!" His hand slammed against the door beside my head.

"You owe me a conversation."

"I don't owe you anything."

His jaw tightened.

For a second I thought he might actually listen, instead he stepped closer, much closer, and my heart started racing.

"Eros."

"Do you know how hard it has been?" he asked.

"What?"

"Watching Atlas bully such a sweet vanilla like you every day."

I blinked, that wasn't what I expected.

"He doesn't deserve your loyalty."

"Eros…."

"He doesn't even know who you are."

His voice dropped lower. "But I do." I hated how trapped I felt.

How powerless, how alone, "Eros, please."

Something flashed across his face.

Frustration, Possession, more of an obsession, something I didn't know, and honestly, I didn't want to know.

His hand moved toward the collar of my shirt.

I immediately tried to push him away.

"Stop!"

The locker room door suddenly opened, both of us froze.

A deep voice echoed through the room.

"What is going on here?"