0017

Asher’s Pov

I watched the color completely drain from Rowan's face, leaving her looking paler than the ice beneath our skates. She didn't scream, and she didn't argue. She just went dead silent, her dark eyes wide with a terrifying panic that made my stomach churn.

I knew right then why the sudden schedule change had wrecked her. The medical evaluations were tomorrow, and whatever secret she was carrying was about to be dragged out into the light.

I didn't wait. I grabbed her by the hand before she could bolt, pulling her away from the secondary rink and out toward the empty main stadium.

"Where are we going?" she whispered, her voice barely a breath.

"Nowhere," I answered, keeping my grip firm but gentle. "Just somewhere quiet."

We slipped into the dark, massive stands of the main arena. The overhead work lights were on, casting a dim, golden glow that bounced off the polished ice below. We sat down on the cold metal bleachers, high up where nobody else could see us. The arena was dead silent, save for the hum of the cooling systems.

I needed to ground her, to pull her away from the edge of whatever panic was eating her alive. So, I started talking about things I never told anyone.

"My first day on skates, I was four years old," I murmured, staring down at the ice. "My dad put me in full gear, pushed me onto the rink, and told me that an Alpha doesn't fall down. Ten minutes later, I caught an edge and slammed face-first into the goalpost. Split my lip wide open."

Rowan gave a small, breathless huff of a laugh, turning her head to look at me. "Did you cry?"

"Like a baby," I admitted, a small smile pulling at my lips. "And my dad didn't hug me. He just told me to get back up because the pack was watching. That was the exact moment I realized I wasn't allowed to just be a kid. Everything I did, every game I played, had to be perfect. If I slipped up, I was letting everyone down."

Rowan went quiet, her expression softening. She looked down at her hands, twisting her fingers together in her lap.

"My aunt Ivy taught me how to skate," she said softly, her voice carrying a deep, aching fondness. "We didn't have fancy rinks or private trainers. We used a frozen pond behind our house, and she shoveled the snow off the ice with an old plastic shovel. Everyone in our town told us girls shouldn't play hockey, that we were wasting our time. But Ivy never laughed. She stayed out there with me until my fingers went numb, teaching me how to shoot and how to take a hit."

"She sounds incredible," I said.

"She is," Rowan whispered. She looked up, her dark eyes locking onto mine with an intensity that caught my breath. "She's the only reason I'm here. But if I get caught tomorrow... if they find out what I am... I'll lose everything. And she'll lose everything, too."

"Rowan," I said, leaning closer so she had no choice but to listen to every word. "Listen to me. Whatever you're hiding, whatever secret is making you look like you're walking to your own execution... it doesn't change who you are. I know the person you are. I know how hard you fight, how loyal you are, and how much you care about this team. Nothing on a medical chart is going to change that."

Rowan's breath hitched. Her eyes swam with unspeakable emotion, the tears spilling over her lashes as she stared at me as if I had just handed her a miracle.

"Do you... do you really mean that?" she asked, her voice cracking.

"I've never meant anything more—"

I stopped dead.

The words caught in my throat, choking off as a sudden, overwhelming wave hit my senses. The sweet scent of snow and vanilla—the scent I had grown so used to, the scent she had worked so desperately to mask—suddenly spiked, sharp and heavy in the cold air.

My wolf reared up inside my chest with a violent, instantaneous jolt.

It wasn't just a faint trace anymore. The suppressants had completely worn off. Her true scent bloomed right there in the open air, hitting my Alpha instincts with the force of a freight train.

My body reacted before my brain could stop it. My muscles tensed, my breathing hitched, and I instinctively pulled back, jerking my shoulders away as my wolf tangled with my human control, overwhelmed by the sudden, raw vulnerability of an Omega scent unshielded.

To me, it was a biological reflex. To Rowan, the sudden recoil looked like pure horror.

The warmth vanished from her face instantly, replaced by a devastating, hollow shock. She watched me pull away, and the fragile trust we had built over the last week shattered right in front of my eyes.

"Rowan, wait, that's not—" I started, reaching out a hand.

She flinched violently away from my touch, pulling her knees up to her chest as if she had just been burned. The tears fell fast and hot down her cheeks, but she didn't make a sound.

When she finally looked back up at me, her voice was barely a whisper, hollow and broken into a million pieces.

"Is there something about me that disgusts you?"