"Do not tell me to calm down, Laurent." Rafe rounds on him, his posture aggressive. "You are part of this. You and Cal, following her around like puppies, offering her jerseys and helmets and whatever else she bats her eyelashes for. And now my own brother shows up out of nowhere and suddenly he is living in my dorm?"
He whirls on Raphael, who has not moved from his spot against the counter.
"What, you met this Omega and now you are into her too? Guess everyone just wants to fuck her, huh? Is that what this is? Line up for the new pussy in town?"
Raphael says nothing.
His gray eyes, so similar to Rafe's but carrying none of the volatile heat, remain fixed on his younger brother with an expression that is somehow more devastating for its lack of reaction. He does not rise to the bait. Does not defend himself or me. Simply watches, waiting, like a man who has seen this performance before and knows how it ends.
Cal steps between them, his amber eyes blazing now.
"Rafe. That is fucking rude and disrespectful when MaeMae is standing right here. You do not get to talk about her like she is not a person in the room."
Rafe huffs, his lip curling.
"MaeMae. Stop calling her that. Stop with the cute little nicknames like she is part of the pack. She is NerdyMae at best. Some temporary roommate who thinks she is hot shit because she can skate fast and recite textbooks."
He turns to me, and the cruelty in his expression is calculated. Deliberate.
"Does not matter if you are trying to be some cool bitch, Mae. Everyone can see you are just jealous of Vanessa. Jealous that she is popular and beautiful and the leading figure on theskating team. Jealous that she actually has a place here while you are just filling a temporary spot until you get kicked back to wherever you crawled out of."
I tilt my head, genuinely confused by the direction he has taken this tirade.
"Why would I be jealous of Vanessa?"
The question is sincere. Not defensive, not sarcastic, just curious. Because from where I am standing, Vanessa has nothing I want. Popularity I never chased. Beauty that comes with the constant pressure of maintaining it. A position on a team that does not interest me. And a boyfriend, if Rafe even qualifies for that title, who treats her like an accessory rather than a partner.
Rafe scoffs, as if the answer is obvious.
"Because she is everything you are not. Popular. Better looking. The prodigy leading the figure skating team to competition. She is attractive and actually fuckable, unlike whatever the hell you think you have going on with the thrift store wardrobe and the tragic backstory."
Etienne growls.
The sound is low and dangerous, rumbling from deep in his chest with a warning that makes the hair on my arms stand up.
"Watch it, Rafe."
But Rafe is past the point of heeding warnings. He is fully wound now, his anger feeding on itself, escalating with every word that leaves his mouth.
"Whatever." He waves a dismissive hand. "I am glad I get to leave this clusterfuck. Figure out your pack dynamics without me. Aside from team obligations, I am tired of this entire situation. Tired of pretending Cal and Etienne are worth calling packmates when they spend more time sniffing around some new Omega than actually having my back."
Cal's expression cycles through hurt, anger, and finally something that looks like resignation.
"You are going to throw away our friendship and our entire pack dynamic over a room change?" His voice is quieter now, the heat replaced by a tired disbelief. "Be for real, Rafe. We have been through too much for you to walk away over this."
"Fuck off." Rafe's response is immediate and brutal. "You should be for real since you are so smitten over fucking pussy. Both of you. Pathetic."
Raphael speaks for the first time since Rafe began his rant.
"Do not let the door hit you when you leave."
The words are delivered with such casual disinterest that they land harder than any heated response could have. No anger. No defense. Just a dismissal so complete it makes Rafe's face flush with a rage that has nowhere to go.
"Fuck you," Rafe spits at his brother.
Then he turns and storms out of the apartment, slamming the door behind him hard enough to rattle the frames on the walls.
The silence that follows is immediate and profound.
