My stepbrother, the hockey alpha

Chapter 5

Lena's POV

The crowd’s roar still echoed down the empty hall as I sat there against the lockers, trying to steady my breathing. I told myself it was just a panic attack, that I’d overreacted, that Jax’s growl on the ice had only sounded strange because of the noise and my imagination.

But deep down, I didn’t believe it.

Something was wrong with him. Something was wrong with all of this.

The game ended about an hour later. I stayed in the corridor, too shaken to go back in. People poured out of the gym, voices buzzing with excitement, but I kept my head down.

“You missed the end!” Avery spotted me as she passed, cheeks flushed. “Jax scored the last goal in overtime. Place went crazy.”

I forced a smile. “Yeah… that’s great.”

She tilted her head. “You sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine,” I lied.

When the crowd thinned, I slipped down a quieter hallway. I just wanted to grab my sketchbook from my locker and disappear before anyone noticed me.

Except it wasn’t there.

I froze, patting through my bag, my stomach sinking. I remembered now, I’d left it in the gym, tucked on a bench near the rink when Avery dragged me to the bleachers.

Of course.

The thought of going back in made my chest ache, but I couldn’t just leave it. That book was everything, my drawings, my thoughts, the only place I could untangle what was in my head.

I forced myself down the hall toward the rink. The lights were still on inside, but the stands were empty now, just the faint scrape of skates on ice as a few players lingered.

I slipped past the edge of the rink and into the locker rooms. The smell of sweat, damp gear, and cold metal hit me hard.

There, on the bench by the lockers, was my sketchbook. Relief washed through me as I grabbed it and hugged it to my chest.

But then voices drifted from deeper inside. Low, sharp, angry.

“…you don’t get to talk to me like that.”

It was Jax.

Another voice answered, deeper, mocking. “You’re not half the captain you think you are.”

The sound of something slamming and lockers rattling.

I froze, my fingers tightening around the sketchbook. I should’ve left. I knew that. But something rooted me in place.

“Try me again,” Jax’s voice snapped.

A laugh followed. Ugly. Cruel. “What are you gonna do, Thorne? Bite me?”

Silence and then

A growl.

Not like the one on the ice. This was louder and rougher. Not possible.

I inched closer, heart pounding. My sneakers squeaked against the tile, and I flinched, but the voices drowned everything out.

Then I saw them.

Jax and Dylan, his rival captain, locked in a fight so brutal it barely looked human. Dylan slammed Jax into the lockers, fists swinging. Jax shoved back, his teeth bared. His helmet was gone, his hair wild, his chest heaving and then it happened.

His eyes flashed gold. Not in a trick-of-the-light way. Not in a weird reflection way. They glowed.

I stumbled back, hitting the wall, my breath stuck in my throat.

“No,” I whispered.

Jax’s gloved hand swung, and the glove tore, fabric shredding as claws, actual claws, slashed out. They caught Dylan across the chest, leaving red lines. Dylan didn’t scream, he snarled. His jaw shifted, his teeth sharper than they should’ve been.

I choked on air. My vision tilted. None of this was real. Couldn’t be real.

“Enough!” Another voice cut through the chaos. Cassian. He rushed in, grabbing Jax by the shoulders, pulling him back. “You’ll lose it if you don’t stop.”

“Let me go,” Jax snarled, his voice guttural, vibrating in the air.

Cassian’s hands tightened, and for a moment, I saw it, claws sliding from his fingers too, his eyes flickering amber.

It wasn’t just Jax. It was Cassian too.

I gasped, louder this time. The sound echoed off the tiles.

Three heads turned toward me at once.

Jax’s golden eyes locked on mine.

I couldn’t move. My whole body trembled, cold seeping through my bones. His face twisted, not just angry, but desperate.

“Lena.....” His voice was rough, almost broken.

“No,” I whispered, stumbling backward. “No, no, no.”

“Wait!” Cassian stepped forward, his claws vanishing in an instant, his hands raised like he could calm me. “It’s not what you think.”

“Not what I think?” My voice cracked into a sob. “I just saw, your eyes, you....”

“Lena!” Jax snapped, moving toward me.

That broke me.

I turned and ran.

The hallways blurred. My feet pounded against the floor, faster than I’d ever run in my life. The world felt sharper, every sound, every smell, even the cold air cutting down my throat.

But my chest burned. My heartbeat was too fast, painful. My vision flickered.

“Lena!” Jax’s voice echoed behind me.

I shoved through the exit doors into the snow, the freezing air slamming my face. My legs carried me across the dark parking lot, breath tearing out of me in broken gasps.

Then everything hit at once.

The panic. The spinning. My chest closing tight like iron bands. My knees buckled. I collapsed into the snow, the cold biting through my jeans.

“No… not now…” My voice cracked as I clawed at the ground.

The moon loomed above, full and bright, burning into my eyes. My body shook, heat and cold warring under my skin.

Footsteps pounded closer.

“Lena!”

Strong arms scooped me up, lifting me as if I weighed nothing. My head lolled against a hard chest, the world slipping away.

“Don’t fight it,” a low voice murmured near my ear. “Just breathe. I’ve got you.”

The sound wasn’t human. It was too deep, layered with something wild. A growl rumbled beneath the words, vibrating through me and then darkness swallowed me whole.

When I woke, everything was quiet.

I was lying in my bed at Damien’s house, the sheets tucked tightly around me. My head ached, my body heavy.

The room smelled faintly of pine and smoke.

I sat up slowly, my heart racing again. How had I gotten here?

A shadow moved in the corner. My eyes shot to it.

Mr. Hawthorne, the hockey coach, sat in a chair by the window, his hands folded, watching me with unreadable eyes.

“You’re awake,” he said calmly.

I swallowed hard. “How, how did I get here?”

“You collapsed,” he said simply. “Outside the rink.”

I clutched the blanket tighter. “You… you saw them. Jax. Cassian. What they—”

He raised a hand, cutting me off. “Careful, Lena. Some truths are heavier than you’re ready to carry.”

Anger and fear twisted in me. “I know what I saw.”

His expression didn’t change. “Maybe or maybe you saw more than you were supposed to. Either way, you need to keep quiet. For your own safety.”

My throat went dry. “What are you talking about? Safety from what?”

His eyes flickered, not glowing, but sharp, too sharp. “This place is not what it seems and neither are the people in it. Stay cautious, Lena and stay alive.”