THE ICE WOLF

Adrien Hockey was the only thing that made me feel normal. The moment my skates touched the ice, the noise in my head usually disappeared. I could focus on speed, movement, strategy, and control instead of the constant pressure sitting beneath my skin every second of every day. Out there, nobody cared that I came from one of the oldest wolf packs in the country. Nobody cared that I had spent most of my childhood learning how to hide my instincts from humans. On the ice, I was just Adrien Agreste, Blackridge Academy’s star center. At least, that was how it was supposed to feel. Tonight was different. The second period had barely started, and already I could feel the wolf getting restless. Every hit during the game felt sharper than usual. Every shove from another player pushed irritation deeper into my chest. The noise from the crowd sounded too loud, the smell of sweat and blood too strong. I hated games like this because they reminded me how thin my control really was. “Agreste!” Nino shouted from across the rink. “Left side!” I snapped back into focus immediately and caught the puck with the edge of my stick before one of Westvale’s defenders could steal it. The crowd erupted as I pushed forward across the ice, weaving past one player and then another. The cold air burned my lungs while adrenaline spread through my body fast enough to make my hands shake inside my gloves. The wolf loved adrenaline. That was the problem. A Westvale player slammed into my shoulder near the boards, hard enough to rattle my teeth. Pain shot down my arm instantly, and something ugly twisted inside my chest. Before I could recover, another player shoved me from behind. “Stay down, pretty boy,” he muttered. The wolf surged forward so fast it nearly knocked the breath out of me. I spun around before I could think and grabbed the front of his jersey. The movement was automatic, driven completely by instinct. The player’s helmet hit the glass behind him with a loud c***k, and suddenly the arena around us sounded distant. All I could hear was his heartbeat. It was fast, uneven and afraid. My grip tightened without me realizing it. The smell of fear hit me hard, and for one dangerous second, I wanted more of it. I wanted him scared enough to run. “Adrien!” Coach Danton’s voice snapped through my head sharply enough to pull me back. I blinked hard and realized half the rink was staring at me. The player in my hands looked pale now, his eyes wide with panic. I let go immediately. The referee skated toward us while blowing his whistle aggressively. “Penalty! Agreste, two minutes!” The crowd booed loudly, but I barely heard any of it while I pushed away from the player and skated toward the penalty box. My chest felt tight. My hands were shaking badly now, and I curled them into fists before anyone could notice. That had been too close. Again. I sat heavily inside the penalty box and lowered my head, trying to slow my breathing. Usually, I could keep the wolf under control during games. Usually, hockey helped me burn the aggression out safely. But lately everything felt harder. The shifts were becoming stronger, my instincts sharper. My father noticed it too, which meant another argument was probably waiting for me at home tonight. “You’re slipping.” I looked up and saw Luka leaning against the glass outside the penalty box. Unlike everyone else on the team, Luka knew the truth about me. He had found out two years ago after seeing my eyes change during a fight at practice. Somehow, instead of freaking out, he had become my closest friend. “I’m fine,” I muttered. “You almost ripped his head off.” “I said I’m fine.” Luka stared at me for a second before sighing. “Your dad’s gonna lose it after this game.” I looked away instead of answering because he was probably right. My father already hated hockey. He thought playing such a violent sport around humans was reckless, especially now that scouts were beginning to follow our games. Too much attention meant risk. Risk meant exposure. And exposure got wolves killed. The buzzer sounded, signaling the end of my penalty. I stood quickly and stepped back onto the ice, forcing my focus onto the game again. Blackridge was leading by one goal, and Coach looked close to murdering me from the sidelines. I pushed everything else down and skated toward center ice. Then it happened. A scent drifted through the arena so suddenly that I nearly stumbled. Warm vanilla. Coffee. Something soft underneath that I couldn’t explain. The wolf inside me went completely silent. I froze. Nothing made the wolf go silent. Slowly, I turned toward the bleachers near the school staff section. At first, I didn’t understand why my instincts were reacting so strongly. Then I saw her standing beside a camera tripod near the edge of the rink. A girl. Dark curls tied back messily. Oversized hoodie. One hand holding a camera while the other adjusted the strap on her bag. She looked bored out of her mind, like she regretted every decision that had brought her into this freezing arena. Then she looked directly at me. Everything inside me stopped. Mine. The word hit me so hard my chest physically hurt. No. No, no, no. That wasn’t possible. Humans couldn’t be mates. Not for someone like me. Not for the future Alpha of the Silverclaw Pack. My father would lose his mind if he even suspected something like this. But the wolf already knew. I could feel it clearly now. The pull toward her was instant and terrifying. Every instinct I had screamed to get closer, to protect her, to make sure nobody else touched her. My body reacted before my brain could catch up, and I took one step toward the bleachers without even realizing it. “Agreste!” Coach shouted furiously. “What the hell are you doing?” I snapped back hard enough to almost lose balance. The game was still happening around me, but suddenly none of it mattered anymore. My heartbeat had become uneven, my senses completely overwhelmed by her scent. The girl frowned slightly while staring at me. Even from across the rink, I could see confusion on her face, like she felt something strange too. Then one of the Westvale players slammed into me from the side. Pain exploded through my shoulder, and the wolf reacted instantly. A growl ripped from my throat before I could stop it. Not human. Not even close. The player who hit me froze immediately. His face drained of color while he stared at me in horror. Because my eyes had changed. And judging from the terrified expression on his face, he knew it.