Two Bad Options

Riven

Kael’s eyes were dark, his pupils blown wide, his chest rising and falling too fast. He looked like he was barely holding himself together, every muscle tense, a fine tremor running through his arms where they braced on either side of my head against the lockers.

He exhaled shakily, trying to keep his voice steady. “I know what can help.”

I blinked up at him, heart hammering. “What?”

“Two options,” he said, voice low and rough. “First, you get on suppressants. Proper ones. That means seeing a doctor, getting tested, and starting medication to mute your scent and block heat. But if you’re not careful… they’ll run the full panel. They’ll find out you’re an Omega. And once that’s on record, hockey becomes… complicated.”

My stomach dropped. Doctors. Tests. Records. The league finding out is a problem. It might lead to being pulled from the Bulls. Everything I’d worked for gone in one blood test.

“Hell no,” I whispered immediately. “That’s never happening.”

Kael shrugged, the movement tight and strained. “Then the second option is the other stuff.”

“The other stuff?” I repeated, already dreading what he meant.

“Helping me through the rut,” he said plainly. “Letting me relieve it. Knotting you. It calms an Alpha down fast when the triggering Omega is involved. Especially when your pheromones are this strong. It would calm your scent down so no alphas nearby would notice a thing.”

My eyes widened in horror. “Hell no. That’s never happening either.”

Kael let out a short, frustrated breath. His forehead dropped closer, almost touching mine, his body heat radiating against me like a furnace. “Anyone that suits you, Riven. But you can’t just walk around with an open bleed right now. Not in a building full of Alphas.”

I tried to push him back again, but he didn’t move. My voice came out smaller than I wanted. “I’ll just… cover it better. Go home. It’s barely bleeding.”

“You think that’s enough?” He shook his head slowly. “I can still smell it from here. Strong. Sweet. It’s what triggered this whole fucking rut. If I can smell it this clearly, other Alphas might catch it too, especially if you walk back through the arena or into any locker room later.”

The thought made my chest tighten painfully. What if someone on my own team noticed? What if they started asking questions? What if they looked at me differently?

Kael’s jaw clenched. He was shaking harder now, clearly fighting whatever the rut was doing to him. His eyes flicked down to my hand again, then back to my face.

“Look,” he said, voice dropping even lower, almost gentle despite the strain, “I’m not trying to force you into anything. But I can’t just let you walk out of here still bleeding. Not when it’s making me lose my mind and risking other Alphas picking up on it. We need to make the smell stop — or at least mute it enough that no one else notices.”

I swallowed hard, tears still threatening at the corners of my eyes. My back stayed pressed to the cold lockers, trapped between the steel and the overwhelming heat of Kael’s body. Part of me wanted to run. The bigger part — the scared, confused part — was terrified of what would happen if I didn’t do something.

My hand stayed trembling over the small wound, warm blood still slowly seeping against my palm.

“So… what do we do now?” I asked, my voice barely audible.

Kael stayed silent for a long moment, just breathing hard against me, his forehead almost touching mine. The heat coming off his body was insane, like standing too close to a furnace. His arms were still braced on either side of my head, caging me in against the lockers.

Finally, he spoke, his voice low and strained.

“We start simple. I need to stop the bleeding and mute the scent enough that no one else catches it. Then… we take the edge off my rut without going all the way. No knotting. Not yet. Just enough so I can think straight again.”

My heart slammed against my ribs. “Just enough?” I repeated, voice shaky. “What does that even mean?”

Kael’s eyes dropped to my hand, still pressed tightly over the small cut. “Let me clean it. Let me touch you. Let me get some relief so the rut doesn’t keep spiking every time I smell fresh blood. You stay in control. You say stop, I stop.”

I swallowed hard, my throat tight. The idea of letting him touch me again after what happened in my apartment made my stomach twist with a confusing mix of fear and something hotter I refused to name. But the alternative… walking out with an open bleed while Kael was like this, while other Alphas might be nearby… that felt even more dangerous.

“I… I don’t want this,” I whispered, but my voice cracked and sounded weak even to my own ears.

Kael’s breath hitched. “I know. But right now, neither of us has a better choice.”

He slowly lowered one arm, giving me a tiny bit of space, but he didn’t step back. His free hand hovered near my wrist — the one covering the scratch.

“Can I see it?” he asked, tone gentler than before, though the shake in his voice gave away how much effort it took.

I hesitated for what felt like forever. My hand was trembling. Fresh warmth seeped against my palm. Finally, I forced myself to move my fingers away, revealing the thin line of blood still slowly oozing from the shallow cut.

Kael’s eyes darkened instantly. A low, rough sound escaped his throat — almost a groan. His body shuddered once, hard.

“Fuck…” he muttered. “Still so strong.”

He reached for the hem of his own jersey and tore off a clean strip of fabric with one sharp pull. Then, very carefully, he took my arm in his large hand. His touch was hot, almost burning, but surprisingly gentle as he wiped the blood away with the cloth.

Every swipe of the fabric sent little sparks up my arm. I bit my lip hard, trying not to make any sound. My cheeks burned with embarrassment and something else I couldn’t name.

Kael’s breathing grew heavier as he worked. When the cut was mostly clean, he pressed the makeshift bandage firmly over it, holding it in place with his palm.

“Better,” he rasped, but his voice was still strained. “Still not enough.”

He didn’t let go of my arm. Instead, his thumb brushed slowly over the inside of my wrist, right where my pulse was racing. The touch was light, but it sent a shiver straight through me.

My back stayed pressed against the lockers. My free hand curled into a fist at my side. Tears still clung to my lashes.

“I’m scared,” I admitted quietly, the words slipping out before I could stop them.

Kael’s eyes met mine again. For a second, something softer flickered behind the rut-driven hunger.

“I know,” he said. “But I’ve got you. Just… let me take the edge off. Nothing more than that.”

His body leaned in closer again, heat wrapping around me like a blanket. His free hand came up to rest lightly against the side of my neck, thumb stroking just under my jaw.

I didn’t pull away.

I didn’t say yes either.

But I also didn’t stop him when his head dipped lower, lips brushing feather-light against the shell of my ear.

“Tell me to stop,” he whispered, voice dark and rough, “and I will.”

My heart pounded so hard I was sure he could feel it under his palm.

I stayed silent.