Rooming With The Enemy: The Alpha’s Forbidden Mate

Rhett

“Rhett, come on!” my teammate yells as I dodge a hit from the defenseman, making sure to keep my balance. The goalie is sliding left, leaving the top right corner wide open. It is a guaranteed goal that would give us a tie.

Four seconds left.

For a split second, my eyes drift to the front row of the stands where my father would be watching proudly.

I need to see the approval in his eyes for that split second—it usually helps.

Except this time it doesn’t because he isn’t there; instead, standing right behind the glass is a guy with dark hair and intense eyes. He isn’t cheering or screaming like everyone else, he is watching me with a cold, mocking smirk playing on his lips.

Two seconds.

Fucking hell.

My stick hits the ice an inch too early and instead of a soaring shot, the puck gives a pathetic little hop and slides harmlessly into the goalie’s pads.

The horn sounds just then.

The game is over, and we have lost.

For the first time in Blackridge history, the home crowd goes silent. Then, the booing starts.

I stay on one knee, staring at the spot in the stands where I saw him. But the space is surprisingly empty.

“Reed! What the hell was that?” my coach screams from the bench, but I can’t move.

All I want to do is get into bed and hide.

I run out of the rink, pushing through the crowd of reporters and students who are yelling at the top of their voices, some arguing over whether the game is rigged, others saying I have lost what it takes to be captain of Blackridge’s own hockey team.

We have lost the first game of the season. And it is entirely my fault.

I know I am going to hear an earful from my father, is why I need to leave this place as fast as possible and lock myself up—avoid him as long as I can.

How could I have let myself get distracted by his infuriating face—his infuriatingly handsome face that I haven’t seen in only Goddess knows how long.

It has to be a mistake…

I have to have been seeing things.

I run a hand through my hair in frustration, my chest doing multiple flips. I hear Savannah running after me, her delicate voice calling my name, but she is the last thing I want to face.

“I know it hurts and you feel like you have disappointed—”

“I don’t feel like I have disappointed!” I snap, whirling around to face her finally. We are now in the pathway leading to the male dorm, away from all the noise of the stadium. “I have disappointed.”

Savannah shakes her head softly, her fingers touching my chest. “Rhett, don’t say that.”

“Forget it!” I huff, pushing her hands away and storming down the path leaving her there. It is a harsh thing to do knowing she really is the sweetest person ever, but I just can’t bring myself to accept it.

I am only 21, yet engaged to be married to her due to my father and some stupid pack laws he prides himself in.

She isn’t my mate, but he doesn’t care about that.

He doesn’t even care when I tell him I have a feeling my mate is near.

My father’s decision is always final and I don’t dare oppose him or he can turn my life into a living hell—quite literally.

So the plan is simple: find out whoever the hell she is and reject her.

I am not going to be interested anyways.

The night’s air is a chilling cold, but I am dripping with sweat underneath the gear I haven’t taken off. In one fluid motion, I remove the helmet and tuck it under my arm as I push the double doors to the main doors of the dorm.

“Always afraid to face your problems head-on,” comes a mocking voice in the dim light of the hallway. “Is that how I taught you, son?”

“Father,” I say stiffly, running a hand through my hair.

“What the hell was that?” he asks in a dangerously calm voice. I have known him long enough to see the anger bubbling beneath his skin. “Your fucking first game. You have let your team down, and the pack—are you aware our rivals are watching? Any sign that the next in line is a pathetic weakling and they will come for us. To claim territory.”

I shrug. “It’s just a game?”

“A game?” He laughs, shaking his head. “You are so fucking stupid to think that it’s a game. This is a show of power… to tell them we dominate every single time! Worst of all, you let them beat us on our own grounds!”

“I’ll fix this,” I promise, my voice sounding weak.

“You better.”

I don’t wait for a dismissal or for him to say anything else. I walk away briskly before he can see the tremor in my hands and then start rambling on and on about being manly enough to cower in anybody’s presence.

I scoff slightly, a wry smile playing on my lips at the irony.

Trembling is weak, but facing him head-on is impertinent.

I reach my dorm door finally in the section meant for top students, my heart hammering against my chest repeatedly and trying to get the panic and anxiety away.

I just need a warm shower as if that is going to wash away everything that has happened today.

I jam my key into the lock, push the door open, and freeze.

Standing in the center of the room is him.

The reason I missed that final shot. The reason I spent the last few seconds staring into the crowd instead of at the puck.

Cassian Storm.

He is no longer the scrawny, trembling boy I made run away from high school years ago.

He looks tough but in the most angelic way possible as he stands with his hands in his pockets. His dark hair is messy, falling over his eyes that assess me.

“Long time no see, Rhett,” he says, his voice smooth and devoid of the fear I used to rely on. “I hear you’re looking for a roommate. Hope you don’t mind… I’ve already claimed the bed by the window.”