MasukThe cage door rattles but doesn't budge.
"Come on." She yanks the latch again. Nothing. The mesh is digging into her shoulder blades and the mascot head is still crooked, so she's stuck staring at the locker room through one eye hole. Rubber floor mats with tape residue on them. A bin of used towels. Someone's jockstrap hanging off a hook near the showers, which is just. Great.
She knows exactly who did this. Trent Lasky and a couple of his frat buddies were cracking up as they shoved her in here after the game. "Team tradition," they'd said. "Rookie mascot gets the cage." Real creative.
"Hello?" She shakes the door. It clangs but stays shut. "Seriously. Let me out."
The post-game crowd noise is muffled through the concrete, a distant roar like a TV left on in another room. She kicks the cage. Hurts her foot more than the door. She kicks it again anyway.
Her hoodie is stuck to her back. Her hair is plastered to her forehead in wet strings. She probably smells like a wet dog that crawled into a gym bag and gave up.
The heavy door at the far end swings open.
Three figures walk in. The room doesn't go silent or anything. It just feels different. Quieter, maybe. Like they'd brought their own atmosphere with them.
Jonah Kline is pacing. He doesn't even glance at the cage at first. Just walks back and forth in front of the benches, running a hand through his hair, breathing hard through his nose.
"I can't shake it," he mutters. "You guys feel that? It's like... I don't know. Something's off."
Silas Vane stops near the showers. He doesn't pace. He looks around the room slowly, like he's checking for something he lost, and then his attention catches on the equipment cage.
"Jonah." Quiet. "The cage."
Martins comes in last. He drops his bag on the bench with a thud and doesn't look at anything. "Probably just leftover adrenaline. We've been off all night. Happens."
"No." Jonah stops pacing and turns toward the cage. "No, it's coming from in there. Whatever that smell is, it's coming from inside."
He walks toward her. Weirdly quiet for a guy that size. Jessie leans back and a zip tie digs into her shoulder blade.
"It's the mascot," Martins says. Flat.
"Take the head off," Jonah says. Not to her, exactly. To whoever he thinks is inside the suit.
"I can't." Her voice comes out muffled and small. "The latch is stuck. Some guys locked me in here as a joke and I can't get out."
Nobody says anything for a second.
Jonah grabs the door. Silas says, "Wait, maybe don't…" but Jonah doesn't wait. He yanks, and metal screams, and then he's holding the entire cage door in one hand like it's made of cardboard. He stares at it. Then he tosses it aside, and it clatters across the rubber floor and bangs into the lockers.
Jessie stares at the bent hinges. Then at Jonah.
"Okay." She steps out carefully, pulling the wolf head off and dropping it. Cool air hits her face and she sucks in a breath. "Nope. Hold on."
She points at the door on the floor. Then at him.
"Did you just. Did you seriously just rip that off?"
Jonah opens his mouth. Closes it. He looks at the door, then at her, then at his own hand like he's not sure what just happened.
"I was supposed to unlock it," he says. "I think."
"You think?"
"It just... came off."
"It didn't come off. You tore it off. That's steel. That's actual metal." She looks at the other two. "Is he on something? Is this a team thing? Do you guys all do that?"
"Adrenaline," Silas says. Calm. Like that explains anything at all.
"That's not adrenaline. That's not a thing. That's not…" She stops. Rubs her forehead with the back of her wrist. "Forget it. I'm leaving."
"You should probably leave," Martins agrees. He doesn't move out of the way.
Jonah is still looking at his hand. "I really didn't mean to do that," he says, more to himself than anyone. "I just wanted to open it. Sorry."
Silas watches Jessie without blinking. He kept looking at her like he was trying to figure something out.
"What?" she says.
He doesn't answer. His gaze drops to her throat.
"You keep doing that," she says. "The staring thing. It's weird."
"Sorry," Silas says. He doesn't stop.
"Martins?" The voice comes from the hallway. Sweet. Sharp. Lila Beaumont.
Everyone freezes. Martins steps back so fast he nearly trips over his own gym bag. Jonah turns away, rubbing the back of his neck, suddenly very interested in the locker combination dials. Silas finally looks somewhere else, exhaling through his nose.
The door opens. Lila walks in wearing a coat that probably costs more than Jessie's laptop, carrying one of those expensive coffees like she had somewhere better to be.
"Coach Rorvik is looking for you," she says, and then her eyes land on Jessie. The smile drops. "Oh. It's you. The mascot girl."
"I was just leaving."
"Did you get lost, or were you trying to sneak into the showers?" Lila's mouth curves, not quite a smile. "I've heard about girls like that. Hockey bunnies, right? They'll do anything to get near the team."
Jessie grabs her duffel bag from the bench. "I was locked in a cage."
"That's one way to get attention."
"I didn't…" Jessie stops. Not worth it. "Whatever."
She pushes past, and her shoulder brushes Martins's arm. Her skin tingles where they made contact, a weird shivery feeling that runs all the way down to her fingers.
She keeps walking. Past the lockers, past the showers. Almost to the hallway.
Just before she crosses the threshold, she glances back.
Lila is already draped over Martins's arm, talking about dinner reservations and some restaurant downtown. Jonah is staring at the broken cage door, shaking his head slowly. And Silas…
Silas is still watching her. She realizes he's not looking at her face. He's looking lower. Her throat.
She rubs her neck. It aches there.
Mine.
The word slides through her head. Not hers. Not exactly. And for half a second, in the reflection of the hallway glass, her own eyes flash gold.
Then it's gone.
She runs.
POV: JessieMy thumb hits call. Disconnected. The dead tone loops a fourth time.The screen reads 5:47 a.m. The text sits there, unchanged. Your pack isn't extinct. They're waiting. Six words I've been staring at since midnight.Tinsley breathes steady above me. The cocoa on my nightstand grew a skin hours ago.I hit call again. Disconnected. The tone doesn't shift. It won't.Who sends a text right after a chase and kills the number before I can trace it. I press the phone face-down under my pillow. Pick it back up. Read the words again.They haven't changed.My anger grinds slow and tired, fear having spent itself hours ago.***POV: MartinsThe voicemail hits at 6:02. I'm still in yesterday's clothes, elbows on the desk in the back office, molars aching behind the silver mouthguard.Grant Lively's voice. Rushed. Breaking at the edges."Heller. Ramos's crew pulled out of the visitor lot at four. All of them. They left something in the bench storage. I didn't touch it."A breath. A sw
Jessie's POV A boot scrapes salted concrete behind me, half a beat after my own.My fingers tighten on the textbook spine, edge biting my palm. I keep walking.The rhythm is wrong. Too measured. Someone pacing themselves to match my stride.I slow and pretend to check my phone. The footsteps slow a half-second late.I speed up. They speed up.I halt and turn.A figure in a dark maintenance jacket stands twenty feet back, hood up, face swallowed by shadow. His gait is trained, deliberate, nothing casual about the set of his shoulders.His head angles left, the same small check he made when I first turned.Then he speaks one word, low, carried on the evening air."Marlowe."My shoulders lock. Vision tunnels to the lamppost edge, light stretching sideways until I blink it back to one.Nobody uses that name here. I buried it in transfer paperwork. Six hours since Hargrove's office, six hours since I read Solberg's name and walked out without answers.He steps backward into the shadow bet
JessieThe scanner beeps against my wrist and I flinch before Hargrove touches me.She pulls the device back, adjusts the angle, tries again. My whole arm goes rigid on the vinyl table."Relax," she says, soft and practiced.Eight hours since the training room floor. Eight hours since I watched my own skin betray me. The fluorescent buzz hasn't changed, and neither have I.My boots are still laced from last night. Forearms ache deep in the muscle, soreness settling after holding too much weight too long. A patch of irritation sits near my left wrist, hidden under my sleeve.Blood sits thick on my tongue where I bit my cheek in the dark hours. Four crescent indents mark my palms from gripping the equipment rack while my body did something I couldn't stop.Hargrove's text arrived at 6:42. Three words. Come in now.I want to be in the storage bay sorting tape rolls for Marlon. Instead I'm here under a light that exposes every breath.Hargrove sets the scanner down. Her lab coat buttons t
JessieMy fingernails throb with every step. The ache swells underneath, pressing against bone. I shove both hands deep into my jacket pockets.Crescents form where nails bite through fabric into my palms.I don't look back. Looking back means seeing him. Seeing what happened on that porch. I can't carry that yet.Each breath reaches me too loudly. The paths stretch empty around me. No footsteps but mine. No voices.Two blocks out, the heat starts.Deep under muscle, under bone, my forearms warm from the inside. I stop beneath a streetlamp and pull one hand free. The nail beds look swollen, darker than they should be.I flex my fingers. The tendons rise beneath the skin, sharper than before. I know every bitten nail on that hand. I don't know the shape underneath anymore."It's panic. That's all." My voice sounds scraped, thin. "My body is panicking. Breathe. Count backward from ten."Ten. Nine. Eight. Seven. Six. I lose the thread. I restart, forcing each number through my teeth. By
Jessie's POV Chase Huxley's fingers clamp around my wrist, his thumb grinding straight into the tendon."Come on, Marlowe. One dance. That's all."I yank my arm. His grip tightens. "You're not asking. You're grabbing."The bass from inside the frat house punches through the concrete wall behind my shoulder, each beat reaching my spine before I can block it. Cheap body spray crowds my nose, chemical-sweet and synthetic, layered over spilled beer gone sour on his collar. Mint gum underneath, losing.His breath fills the space between us, thick and stale, and I turn my face toward the wall."I've been trying to leave," I say, forcing the next breath through my nose.Tinsley disappeared inside after her first drink. Brooke is somewhere near the kitchen. Right now there's nobody out here but me and Chase and the busted porch light swallowing us in shadow. The wood frame digs into my shoulder blade. I have nowhere to go sideways. The step behind me drops six inches. If I move wrong, I fal
JessieMy canvas bag hits the corridor floor. Towels spill halfway out. I reach for them before Martins's voice stops me cold."We don't get to pretend anymore."His words bleed through the two-finger gap where the locker room door sits unlatched, muffled and low. A captain who's run out of plays. My hand locks around the canvas strap, fingers tightening until nails bite.The photograph still burns behind my ribs. I haven't slept.I should walk away. My grip tightens instead.Through the gap I catch a sliver of interior. Martins stands near the whiteboard in his practice jersey, sleeves pushed to elbows. A skate dangles by the laces from his hand. He hasn't sat down.Pine and cold stone drift through the door gap on the ventilation draft, faint, catching the back of my throat."The photo. The bloodline. The scent." He stops. Sets the skate on the wooden bench, and the metallic buckle clacks hard against tile. "All of it points the same direction, and I've been skating circles around i







