I Rejected My Hockey Bully Mates

SLOANE The moon goddess must be sick in the head to think I’d ever accept them. I don't think twice. “I, Sloane Vance, in the name of the Moon Goddess… reject every single one of you as my mates.” The entire hall goes silent while I stand there, waiting for something. Anything. But all I can feel is this dull muted and distant ache in my chest. If my wolf wasn't a weak one, I knew this rejection would have torn through me but now, it barely even scratches the surface. See, there's a blessing in every disappointment. And they are the ones feeling it. I can see it in their eyes. Then comes the screech, “How dare you?!” . . . •Eighteen hours ago• “Watch where you are going, barehide!” The words hit before I even register the impact. My shoulder jerks back from the collision, books slipping from my grip and scattering across the hallway floor. A few students slow down, not to help but to watch. And I don’t need to look up to know who it is. I know that voice all too well. I know it's one of them. The Alpha triplets. The pride of the school. Future professional players according to literally everyone with functioning eyes. And unfortunately for me? Complete assholes. The most notorious of them, the captain of Halcyon Ice kings, stands in the middle, hand shoved in his pocket of his team jacket while his other carbon copies stand side by side. And of course, clinging to their side is Elara, dressed in the black and silver hoody of the team as if she belongs there. Her lips curl the second our eyes meet. “Oh Sloane,” she says softly like she just discovered something unpleasant and pitiful on the ground. “It's you.” A few people passing by snicker. I say nothing as I crouch down, gathering my books one by one, ignoring the way the hallway has slowed just enough to feel like a stage. “Didn’t see you there,” I mutter. “Sorry.” And that came out begrudgingly for I was walking before them. They should have been the one to see me instead and those words should be uttered by them. A shadow falls over me before I can pick up the last book and a shoe nudges it away. A few laughs ripple through the hallway. “Guess I'll never get enough of this scene.” Someone says. I pause, finger hovering over the empty space where it used to be, then reach for it again. It gets kicked again. I swallow the curses rising in my throat and stand up slowly—because rushing will make it look like I care—just to come face to face with the second Halcyon brother, Zion. Up close, he looks even more untouchable. A total disaster and a nightmare. I force a smile. “Since you want it, I'll just leave it to you.” For a moment, no one moves, probably because that wasn't the reaction they were expecting. But then, Elara lets out a soft laugh. “At least she knows her place.” Zion doesn’t laugh as his gaze stays on me, sharp and unmoving just before he spares her a glance over his shoulder. “You call that knowing her place?” he asks, voice low. The hallway quiets just a little more and Elara blinks, clearly not expecting that. “She just disrespected me.” My fingers tighten around my books as my throat runs dry. So he noticed again. He takes a step closer. And sassiness aside, the fear they'd drilled in me takes over and my legs move back even though my brain is screaming at them not to. He smirks. “Say it again.” My mouth parts but nothing comes out as his piercing green eyes stares into my soul just before he closes the distance between us and grabs me by my jaw, his hold firm. A few people shift, clearly getting excited for more drama. “Zion—” comes Elara’s voice. But he doesn’t look at her or anyone as his gaze stays on me. And for a second, I consider it. Backing down and swallowing it just like I always do. But then I remember— it wouldn’t change anything. It never does. I stay quiet, I get humiliated. I speak up, same result. So, what's the point? Besides, it's the last day of the term. After today, I won’t be in this hallway for two months. And hopefully, they’ll be off wherever Alpha hockey puckheads disappear to during Mating break. Far away from me. The thought settles something in my chest. Just enough so I tilt my head slightly. “What?” I say. “You didn’t hear me the first time?” His inhales sharply, the sound cutting through the hallway as his grip around my jaw tightens in warning. The kind that usually comes right before things go wrong. “You are testing my patience, Vance.” His grip lifts my jaw as he inspects my face. Then he adds, “And ruining this pretty face won't be so epic.” I let out a quiet breath and lean in just enough that only he can hear me. “Go ahead.” I whisper. “Ruin it.” A pause. “Let's see how well that plays for you.” It's soft and disrespectful in a way that only he understands and can hear. His eyes darken and it's not the bored, amused kind I'm used to but something deeper and colder as his grip tightens even more like he actually might snap my jaw to prove a point. And we both know all too well that they'll never cross that line. No matter what happens, they'll never get physical with me. The most they could do is get indirectly physical through tricks like tripping me and making life unbearable for me. But directly physical, hell no. My father is still their father's long time best friend afterall. A quiet gasp slips from somewhere behind me. I don’t make a sound or look away. His thumb presses harder against my chin, forcing my head up and forcing me to meet his gaze. And then, like a scene from a nightmare, I see his other hand lifting, already balled into fist and approaching my face. My eyes widen, my breath catching in my throat. “Zion—” The bell rings loudly, interrupting me, and his fist comes to a stop just a few centimeters away from my face. He inhales sharply, the sound rough in the silence, and then his fist drops. But his hand doesn’t leave me instantly. Instead, his fingers tighten around my jaw again like he needs to remind both of us that he still has control and for a second, I think he might say something or do something worse. Then, the principal’s familiar and firm voice cuts through the speakers for the third time this evening. “All final-year students are to report to the auditorium immediately for the final assembly of the term. Attendance is mandatory.” Pause. “All final-year students are to report to the auditorium immediately for the final assembly of the term. Attendance is mandatory.” He repeats. And Zion lets go abruptly then turns back to the others like none of this never happened. “Let's go.” He says, adjusting his jacket. Elara spares me a final glance and snickers before falling beside him. The crowd also starts to move and voice rises again, low murmurs replacing the silence and just like that, the hallway comes back to life. But I don’t move. Not immediately. I just stand there, rooted to the spot, my heart still hammering like it’s trying to catch up with everything that almost happened. My hand lifts slowly and I press my palm against my jaw, right where he held me. Then I drag it away and wipe it against my uniform. Once. Twice. Like I can get rid of the feeling if I try hard enough. I let out a quiet breath, forcing everything back down. Then I bend, pick up the last of my books, and head toward my locker. Which unfortunately sits right beneath another giant hockey poster. Because apparently the school board collectively decided nobody should go more than five business seconds without seeing the Halcyon triplets’ faces. My eyes flick upward. And yep. There they are. The three Alpha puckheads themselves. Zion standing in the middle like he founded oxygen. Zayden looking one insult away from a felony. And Zeke with that emotionless keeper stare like he sees dead people between hockey periods. Huge silver letters stretch across the poster dramatically. HALCYON ICE KINGS REGIONAL FINALS — MATING BREAK I stare at it for a second. Then another. “Oh no,” I deadpan quietly. “How will society survive without watching emotionally constipated men fight over frozen rubber?” A laugh escapes someone nearby. I ignore it. Then I reach up, grab the poster, and rip it clean off the locker. The paper tears loudly. Therapeutically, honestly. I crumple it into a ball and toss it into the trash right where it belongs. With a huff, I yank the locker open and shove the books inside. “Idiots,” I mutter under my breath.