Chapter 5

Axel

Ashley was still talking when I buttoned my shirt. I had stopped listening to her ten minutes ago.

She lay across her bed with the sheets gathered low around her waist, making no attempt to cover herself. The dorm room smelled of her perfume and sweat, making me want to leave faster.

I rolled my sleeves to my elbows and ran my fingers through my hair, still irritated as Blaze paced beneath my skin. I was with Ashley for an hour because I wanted to take the edge off. I had been furious after my suspension, furious after being handed a pathetic task as if I were a misbehaving child who needed punishment.

Grant could shove his discipline up his own ass. I was going to meet that girl, ask her to fuck off, and return.

Ashley shifted on the bed. “Are you even listening to me?”

“No,” I said, picking my jersey off the chair.

“Axel!”

The sharpness in her voice scraped against my already thin patience. I snapped my head toward her, and Blaze rose with me. My vision flashed gold. Ashley went silent immediately. Fear crossed her face. She knew what I was.

I looked at her lying there, naked on purpose, one knee bent, blonde hair spread over the pillows as if she had arranged herself for me. But she never appealed to me. Even though she was my father’s favorite, and they wanted me to take her as my chosen mate. To hell with it.

“We’re done,” I said and opened the doorknob. She gasped. I opened the door and left before she could reply.

I was the future Alpha of the North Ridge pack. Once I graduated at the end of the year, my father expected me to return and take my place as the Alpha of the pack.

Mason and Tyler were waiting outside in the parking lot, sitting in Mason’s black car with the heater running. Mason was my future Beta because he had the sense to challenge me when everyone else kissed my ass. Tyler was my future Gamma because he was reckless, loyal, and dangerous when he needed to be.

Both of them were grinning when I got into the back seat.

Tyler glanced at the time on the dashboard. “That was fast.”

Mason pulled out of the parking space. “Shortest Ashley visit in recorded history.”

“Mind your own business,” I growled.

Tyler laughed. “That is our business. We’re your future leadership. We have to know if our Alpha is losing stamina.”

I leaned forward far enough for his laughter to die. “Say one more word.”

They both laughed.

I sat back and stared out the window as the campus passed in dark shapes and yellow pools of light. Snow lined the sidewalks. The air inside the car should have helped me calm down, but it did not.

When we reached my dorm, which was an apartment for seniors, Colin, my nemesis, was waiting near the front steps. My mood dropped from bad to violent. “What do you want?” I growled.

He pushed away from the railing with that easy smile. Colin Bradford had money, charm, and the kind of polished face that made humans trust him. Wolves knew better. He had once given my identity to hunters. He claimed it had been an innocent mistake. A drunken conversation. The joint werewolf-human council had buried the case quickly because my family had influence and because no one wanted a scandal involving hunters near a protected college.

“Hale,” he said. “You’re hard to catch these days.”

Mason and Tyler stepped out behind me, both dead quiet now.

Colin continued, “I’m having a party this weekend. You should come. No bad blood.”

I looked at him for a long moment. “I’d rather chop my dick off and feed them to the wolves.”

He shrugged, smiling. “You’re my neighbor. Come over. It will do you some good.” He chuckled and left with his hands in his pockets.

Mason waited until Colin was out of earshot. “He’s getting bold.”

Tyler looked at me. “Do you want us to teach him a lesson?”

I turned and opened the door. “No.” Colin was too beneath me. Fucking human.

Two days later, Grant summoned me to the rink. The arrangement was simple, according to Grant. An injured figure skater needed controlled sessions to rebuild confidence. I knew ice, pressure, fear, and impact and she needed help. It felt like an insult to help a fucking ice skater. My sport represented me, my violence and my danger. Ice skating? How dare he insult me with something so mundane? I was going to show her my middle finger and ask her to go to hell before coming back.

I entered the hallway outside the practice rink, and once again the world narrowed to that fucking scent of sugar cookies.

I stopped walking. The smell filled my lungs so deeply that for a second, I could not move. Warm vanilla, baked sugar, soft heat beneath cold air. It curled around my throat and sank into my blood like it had been waiting for me. My eyes became hooded.

Blaze surged forward. I inhaled again, slow and desperate despite myself. I wanted to follow it, lick it from the air, drag it over my skin, roll in it until nothing else existed. The need was so sudden and filthy that my hand tightened around the strap of my bag, and my cock hardened inside my jeans.

“What the hell?” I muttered.

Blaze did not answer. He pushed. ‘Follow the scent,’ he urged.

I followed the scent into the rink. The ice was empty except for one girl near the benches. She was bent over, her round ass high in the air as if she had the permission to show it off. She was adjusting the strap of her skate, wearing a short black practice skirt and a fitted long-sleeved training top that hugged her waist and left her legs bare from thigh to the tops of her white skates.

Every thought in my head tossed out. Heat coursed through me in waves. She was all soft curves and pale skin against black fabric, her body folded in a way that made my fingers curl with the urge to grip that flesh. I saw the line of her thighs, the curve of her ass under the short skirt, and the narrowness of her waist before they flared into her breasts.

Something like possessiveness rose inside me. I took one step closer, then another. Her scent hit harder. Warm sugar and vanilla and beneath all of it— human?

Instant aversion slammed into me. My body went rigid. No, no, no. The scent that had ruined my game, the scent that had driven Blaze half-mad, belonged to a human girl?

Fuck.

Humans always found ways to get under a wolf’s skin. My father’s human wife had done it to him and destroyed everything. That’s why I had sworn years ago that no human would ever have power over me.

Yet here I was, staring at one like a starving man.

Then the girl straightened and turned. Everything went into slow motion. Her purple and dark hair whipped, catching the rink lights. A strand flew across her face before she brushed it away. Her onyx eyes, dark enough to swallow the light, met mine. I noticed a scar on her forehead, and I immediately wanted to kill whoever gave it to her.

Goddess. I froze.

Blaze pressed against my mind, urgent and violent. ‘Kiss her.’

I knew why he demanded that. Only a kiss would confirm if she was my mate. No, fate couldn’t have been stupid enough to throw a human at me. Cold dread moved through me.

I would never kiss her to find out. I would not give in to the scent, to Blaze, or to whatever sick temptation was wrapped around my throat.

The girl lifted her chin. “You’re Axel Hale?”

Her voice slid over my skin.

Blaze went quiet. ‘She is definitely mine,’ he whispered.

“No,” I hissed. “Never!”

The girl frowned. “What?”

I looked at her beautiful face and forced every trace of hunger out of my expression. In a louder, colder voice, I said to her, “You must be the injured skater Grant thinks is worth wasting my time.”