The first time I met her, I’d assumed she was an alpha. The kind who chewed up anyone who tried to put a leash on her and spat out the bones.
She still felt like that now.
Even knowing what I knew—or what I thought I knew— and right now, something niggled at the back of my mind. A fact that wanted me to notice it but I couldn’t quite see the shape of it.
It wasn’t like alpha/alpha pairings didn’t happen. Hell, alpha/beta did too, more than most people talked about. We were raised on mating charts and textbook biology, but instincts didn’t always play by the rules.
Still.
Wren had never allowedanyof us—even Roan—to get close enough to pretend.
Every line she drew was carved in stone. And every time one of us stepped too close, she pushed back. Calm. Brutal. Final.
And now?
Now, for the first time, she looked like she mightbreak.
Roan was already a full half-block ahead, walking fast enough to outrun guilt, maybe.
Rhett finally shoved his hands in his pockets and exhaled hard. “I just want to help her.”
I nodded. “Then stop making this about whatyouwant.”
He flinched.
Didn’t deny it.
Didn’t argue.
Just turned and followed Roan toward the arena.
I waited a beat before walking after them, eyes scanning every reflection in the glass, every alert on my phone, every tightening thread in the fabric of this team.
Because something was unraveling, and for once, I wasn’t sure Wren could hold it all together.
Not without tearing herself apart.
Roan stalked through the front entrance like the glass doors had personally offended him. Rhett was two steps behind, radiating heat like a furnace with a blown seal.
I didn’t rush to catch up.
They had fire.
I had questions.
More, something gnawed at the back of my mind like a dull toothache. A shadow I couldn’t quite pin down.
I followed them into the lobby, let the motion sensor close the doors behind me, and slowed even more once we hit the east corridor. The heavy chill of the rink’s back halls settled in—concrete, fluorescent lights, the faint chemical sting of gear soap and wax.
The guys peeled off toward the locker room, voices low and tight, likely picking up the same argument from earlier.
I didn’t follow.
Not because I wasn’t pissed.
I was.
But anger didn’t solve things.
