0006

Rowan’s Pov

Rowan’s heart hammered against her ribs as she stared down the long, polished hallway of Silvercrest Academy, acutely aware that every single step brought her closer to the mandatory team meeting.

The missing black case containing her scent suppressants felt like a heavy stone pressing into the bottom of her backpack, even though it wasn't there at all; the terrifying reality was that Bianca Wolfe now held it.

"Rowan, keep up," Asher’s voice cut through her spiraling panic, low and steady as he fell into step beside her.

She forced her features to relax, offering a tight, unconvincing nod. "I'm right here."

Neither of them knew that across the courtyard, Bianca was already weaving her narrative, preparing to tear down everything Rowan had bled for. When they entered the massive lecture hall, the first line players were already gathered around the front row. Coach Brooks stood at the chalkboard, his arms crossed over his chest, mapping out upcoming exhibition matches.

"Listen up," Coach Brooks barked, his voice echoing off the vaulted ceilings. "The first line is going to be spending additional hours together starting this afternoon. I expect complete cohesion."

Rowan stared blankly at the tactical diagrams, her mind entirely consumed by the thought of Bianca holding those medical suppressants. A cold sweat broke out across her neck. If anyone finds out I'm an Omega, I'm done. Expelled before the season even begins.

"Hey," Asher muttered under his breath, leaning down just enough so the coach wouldn't notice. "You’re completely somewhere else. Breathe."

She snapped her gaze up to meet his intense, crystalline eyes. He wasn't glaring or showing his usual cold detachment; instead, there was an unmistakable wave of quiet concern radiating from him. Before she could answer, Mason leaned over the back of his chair, flashing a quick, easy grin that almost managed to ground her.

"Don't worry," Mason whispered, his eyes dancing with mischief. "If the captain yells at you for daydreaming, I'll distract him with a penalty box story."

Rowan let out a breath that sounded half-laugh, half-sob. Mason was genuinely becoming one of the safest people in this terrifying castle of Alphas, but his lightheartedness couldn't erase the impending doom waiting for her outside.

When the meeting finally dismissed, the players began shuffling toward the doors. Rowan kept her head down, packing her notebook into her bag with shaking fingers, desperate to slip away unnoticed.

"Going somewhere so fast, Hayes?"

The sweet, venomous voice froze Rowan in her tracks. She turned slowly to find Bianca Wolfe standing right behind her, a sharp, triumphant smile plastered across her face. The other students lingered in the doorway, whispering among themselves, picking up on the sudden shift in the room's energy.

Rowan swallowed hard, her throat feeling like sandpaper. "What do you want, Bianca?"

Bianca stepped closer, her eyes flashing with malicious satisfaction. "Just thinking that people around here really need to watch their belongings. It's awfully careless to lose important medication on campus. Especially the kind that completely changes who you are supposed to be."

The air left Rowan's lungs entirely. The world seemed to tilt sideways as the hidden implication slammed into her. Bianca knew. She didn't just suspect; she had the case.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Rowan managed to choke out, her voice trembling despite her best efforts to sound brave.

"Don't you?" Bianca tilted her head, her smile widening into something truly cruel. "I'm sure we can chat about it later. Privately."

Without waiting for an answer, Bianca turned on her heel and glided out of the lecture hall, leaving Rowan standing frozen like a statue carved out of pure dread. Her secret was out, and the countdown to her total destruction had officially begun.

That evening, the shadows grew long and heavy inside Suite 301. Rowan sat alone in the pitch-dark living room, her knees pulled up to her chest on the sofa, staring blankly at the moonlit floorboards. The heavy silence of the suite felt suffocating, amplifying the frantic rhythm of her pulse.

The front door clicked open, and Asher stepped inside, dropping his keys onto the counter with a soft clatter. He paused when he saw the dark room, his sharp eyes instantly picking out the small, huddled figure on the couch. Instead of turning on the lights or offering one of his usual curt demands, he walked over slowly, standing right at the edge of the coffee table.

"You're sitting in the dark," Asher noted, his voice uncharacteristically soft.

Rowan didn't move. She couldn't look up. She kept her eyes glued to her knees, feeling the crushing weight of the lies she had carried across the threshold of Silvercrest Academy on day one. The fear wasn't just about hockey anymore; it was about losing the only place that had ever felt like a true home, and worse, losing the person who had quietly become her anchor.

Asher took a slow step closer, dropping his jacket onto the armchair. "Rowan. Talk to me. You haven't been right all afternoon."

"I'm fine," she whispered automatically, the lie tasting like ash on her tongue.

"Stop saying that," Asher said firmly, closing the remaining distance between them. He crouched down beside the sofa so he was looking directly at her face, refusing to let her hide. "You're shaking."

Rowan finally raised her head. The moonlight caught the raw, unadulterated terror swimming in her eyes, a look she had fought so hard to keep hidden from the world. Her lower lip quivered, and for the first time since she had arrived at Silvercrest, her armor completely shattered.

She looked at him, searching his face for any sign of the cruel prejudice she had been warned about her entire life, and whispered the question that had been tearing her apart:

"Asher… if I told you I was hiding something that could get me expelled, would you hate me?"