The curse awakens

Kaelen’s POV

I was on the bench in the locker room still in my kit, looking at the floor as the rest of my team came in, in silence. Nobody spoke. Nobody dared to.

The door was pushed open.

Coach Marek was standing there, his fists clenched, anger filling his face. “Everyone get out. Except Kaelen.”

My teammates ran away, some of them giving me a sympathetic glance as they passed. I didn't look up. I guess I knew what was in the future.

The door closed behind the final of them and Coach Marek turned his gaze to me.

“What was that?" he asked.

I simply said, "We lost.” Raising my eyes to meet his, I could not care less what he would do at this point.

“Kaelen, don't look at me like that.” He came nearer, pointing a finger at me. “Instead of being a captain ! keeping your players focused, keeping the team together and setting a good example, you were a captain who was distracted, sloppy and chasing after Elyra Veyne like a boy with a grudge.”

“I know what went on out there.” I replied. “But you are seeing it all wrong.”

"Am I ?" Coach Marek's voice grew louder. “From where I was standing it looked like you let your personal hatred for your stepsister get in the way of this team winning that opening game of the championship, in front of every academy, in front of scouts.”

Something twisted in my stomach at the word scout, but I kept my face still.

Coach Marek went on, "Whatever you do with her, it's not hockey. It is not my business. You don't do it on my ice.”

"I understand."

"Do you?" He looked at me for a very long time, as if he wanted to pierce me. “If I see you let her get inside my head one more time — Kaelen, we have a long tournament ahead of us, I need a captain, I don't need a boy seeking revenge.”

I said nothing.

Coach Marek shook his head, said something under his breath, and walked out, smashing the lockers with the door so hard it rattled.

I sat there alone.

I let myself get angry, angry about the defeat, angry about the lecture, angry at the way Elyra looked at me on the ice and the smug little smile on her face as if she'd won everything she ever wanted. ‘1-0.’ Like it was funny.

“Fuck!” I screamed as I kicked the lockers.

After that, I lost my vision.

I squeezed my eyes shut tight, holding the side of the locker next to me for support. The room was slightly off balance—just enough to make my stomach clench.

Not now.

I felt a sudden sharp pain in my chest and down into my arms. I bit my lip and rode it out, waiting for it to go the way it had gone.

It didn't pass.

I knew what this was..

The curse.

I pushed myself up, my shaking hands removing my gear, my pads and skates shoved into my bag without any organization. I pulled my shirt over my head, sweating now, the pain increasing with each second; my jersey clung to my back.

I gazed at my hand.

I was seeing myself change, my nails were growing, curling at the tips. An old wound on my palm, one that never healed entirely, no matter what the doctors did, opened up once more, blood gushing dark against my skin.

“Not here,” I grumbled to myself. No, no, not here—“

I shoved my hand into the pocket of my jacket and walked out of the locker room through the side door, avoiding eye contact with anyone who may still be hanging around in the halls. No one stopped me as I made it to my car.

I could not get the key in smoothly with my shaking hands, but got it in on the third attempt.

I drove right to the hospital.

---

When I walked through the private wing doors, I went to my doctor, Dr. Rhyse, he was waiting for me. He looked at my hand, at my face and didn't ask questions — he brought me back to a treatment room.

"Sit," he said. "Let me see your hand."

I sat. He looked at my pale, clammy skin, the blood, my claws.

“For how long has this situation been the case?” he asked.

I said through gritted teeth, "Started right after the game. Perhaps 20 minutes ago.”

"And the pain?" He asked.

"Getting worse."

His movements were practiced and swift, and soon Dr. Rhyse was already preparing an IV line. “I’m going to need you to breathe through it Kaelen, slow and deep breaths.”

I tried. That wasn't very effective.

I began to see things spinning around me, colors merging together, and the voice of Dr. Rhyse seemed distant even though he was standing next to me.

"Kaelen? Kaelen, please stay with me—"

Everything went dark.

---

The first thing I registered upon waking up was the dull ache in my chest, the IV taped on the back of my hand, and Dr. Rhyse standing in the chair by my bed watching me with a face I didn't like.

"How bad is it?" My voice was hoarse.

“How’re you feeling?” Rhyse asked.

“What's wrong, Evander?” I snapped.

He put down a chart he was holding and rubbed his face. “Kaelen, this isn't something that's going to be controlled and managed with medication.”

I pushed myself up against the pillows. "Then what is it."

“Your curse,” he said. “Your family line carried it for generations and it lay dormant because your mother's wolf suppressed it, through her bond with your father. As long as that bond remained intact, the curse had nothing to attach to.”

"I know all this." I hissed.

“So you know what happened when that bond was broken.” He continued.

“Say something that I don't know,” I said.

Dr. Rhyse studied my eyes for a long time, as if he were considering his words. Finally, he spoke. “Now, the curse is not dormant, it's not something you're suppressing, your wolf has been battling it for years, but it's losing that battle and the damage isn't just on your wolf.”

My stomach dropped. "What do you mean."

“It's starting to impact your heart," he said softly. “Each episode takes a little more toll on it, and your body is just trying to catch up with the damage. Unless this is halted or slowed down—"

"Without intervention, what?"

“Eventually your heart will stop beating," he said. "Completely."

“How long do I have?” I asked.

Dr. Rhyse hesitated.

"Evander." I hissed. “Just tell me, how long do I have left?”

“It's less than a year," he said. "If nothing changes. If something is not done, unless a miracle happens, you won’t be in this hospital room by this time next year.”

I snorted a short soundless laugh, more air than sound. "Less than a year."

"Kaelen—"

"No, it's fine." I put the heel of my hand on my eyes. “It's okay, just tell me the rest.”

There's something else you should know," Dr. Rhyse said. “Anger, stress, anything that raises your adrenaline; those are the ones that are triggering it more easily than they did before. If you continue to lose control like you did tonight, it's going to happen more and more often. It's going to get more dangerous. And unfortunately I can not predict the exact consequence of each episode but I know each episode would do more damage than the last.•

“Well, I just need to remain composed,” I replied nonchalant. “For a year, while my heart slows down and my wolf dies.”

“I know it's not fair,” Rhyse said. “I’m sorry you have to go through this kid.”

"No," I said. "It's not."

He didn't disagree with that. He simply gave me a little medicine box and explained to me how much to take, when and what to do if another episode came. I was nodding my head, but I didn't really listen to most of it, my mind was elsewhere.

I said “Thank you” last, because, through all this, he was the one who was always on my side.

“Take care Kaelen," he said. "Please."

I didn't respond to that… but I felt the hospital shortly after.

---

I didn't go home.

I instead drove to the cemetery, where I parked close to the old iron gates, and walked the same path to my mother's grave, without having to think about which way to go. I had walked it many times and my feet remembered the way more than my head did.

I sat on the cold grass beside her grave, the water seeping through my jeans.

I whispered, "Hey, Mom.”

I was alone in the midst of trees, and the only answer I ever received was the wind.

“Well, I lost the game today," I said. “It was the first game of the championship and Elyra's team beat us.” I let out a breath, almost a laugh. “She was pretty happy about it as well.”

I tugged a blade of grass, fiddled with it in my fingers.

“I went to see Dr. Rhyse after because my finger nails decided to turn into claws.” I stopped and looked at the stone with her name on it. “Apparently heart's failing now, and I have less than a year.”

I waited for a silent moment.

I said, "Guess I might be joining you sooner than I thought," and my voice broke as I said that. “We’d be having a reunion soon…”

I sat there for a few moments, unable to say anything more, but with the cold in my bones, and all that Dr. Rhyse had said, I me I had to to go home.

Standing up, I said, “I'll come back. I love you mom.” I turned, and walked away.

I was on my way to the gates when my cell phone rang in my pocket.

From Coach Marek, a text.

I opened it up , already taking deep breaths as I thought it was going to be another lecture, another warning about my attitude.

There was a picture, but it wasn't any random picture.

Elyra in her skates, standing in the ice rink, laughing. There standing, with their hands clasped, a man who was in a sharp black coat, clipboard in hand, shaking her hand as if he had just offered her something huge.

I knew him right away.

Ronan Vale.

The talent scout for the pro team I've been training for for years. The team I'd been hoping for since I was old enough to hold a stick in my hands. The team I had been looking at for years before bed on my wall that I promised myself I would wear one day.

I looked at the image, but this time it was not the curse, my vision was blurring again.

It was rage.

She had everything already. My spot on the team. My mother's mate. My father's attention. And now this too.

My fingers began changing again, claws pushing through the tips, the old wound splitting back open, blood dripping onto the gravel path beneath me. I didn't bother hiding it this time. There was no one around to see.

I stared at her picture until the screen went dark.

"That should have been mine," I said quietly, to no one, to the empty cemetery, to my mother's grave behind me.

I pulled out my phone and dialed.

It rang twice before the line connected.

"We need to meet," I said.