Alpha on the Ice

Chapter 3

Sloane

Rhys sits across from me. He hasn't touched the water bottle on the table.I notice because I notice everything. It's the only thing that's kept me alive in this industry...the ability to see what other people miss. And right now, I'm seeing a lot."So," I say, clicking my recorder on, "tell me about your love for the game."Rhys's eyes snap to mine. "I love hockey."I wait for more. Nothing comes."That's it?""What else do you want me to say?" He leans back, crossing his arms. "I've been playing since I was five. It's the only thing that makes sense. The ice, the puck, the rhythm of it. Everything else is noise."I scribble that down, even though it's the most generic answer I've ever heard. Everything else is noise. That could be a quote from any athlete in any sport."How about your teammates?" I try. "What do they mean to you?""They're my family.""Your family?""I said what I said." His voice hardens. "Next question."I glance at Claire, the PR minder. She's still on her phone. I turn back to Rhys and ask about his training regimen, his diet, his pre-game rituals. The answers are clipped, robotic, rehearsed. He's giving me nothing.A janitor pushes a cart through the hallway, and a metal tray clatters to the floor. The sound is sharp, sudden, and Rhys flinches.It's a tiny movement. But I see it.He flinched at metal.My reporter's instinct flares to life. I reach into my bag and pull out my pen. I set it on the table between us. Rhys's eyes lock onto the pen like it's a snake."Are you allergic to something?" I ask, keeping my voice light. "You seem tense.""I'm not tense." His voice is a growl. "I'm bored.""I noticed you haven't touched your water. Is it the brand? I can get you something else...""I said I'm fine."I reach for my pen, my fingers brushing against the silver barrel. Rhys's chair scrapes backward so violently that it tips over, crashing to the floor. He's on his feet, his chest heaving, his eyes wide with something that looks almost like panic."Don't." The word comes out as a snarl. "Don't touch that."Claire looks up from her phone, startled. "Mr. Kincaid...""I have a metal allergy." Rhys's voice is tight, I can hear the tremor underneath. "Are you trying to kill me?"I hold up my hands. "I'm sorry. I didn't know.""It's fine." He rightens his chair and sits back down, but his hands are shaking. "Just keep your pens to yourself."The rest of the interview passes in a blur. I ask my questions, he gives his answers, but my mind is racing. Metal allergy. Something is wrong.When Claire finally announces that time is up, I pack my things and leave the media room. But I don't go to the elevator. I wait in the hallway, hidden behind a pillar, until I see Rhys emerge alone.He's heading toward the locker room. I step out of the shadows."Mr. Kincaid."He stops. Turns. His eyes narrow when he sees me."I told you not to call me that.""Fine. Rhys." I approach him slowly, keeping my hands visible. "I need to ask you something.""You can ask. I might not answer.""The allergy." I stop a few feet away. "It's not a metal allergy, is it?"Something flickers in his eyes. Fear? Anger? I can't tell."What are you talking about?""Silver," I say, the word dropping between us like a stone. "You're afraid of silver."He moves so fast I don't see it coming. One second he's standing there, and the next I'm pressed against the lockers, his body caging me in, his face inches from mine."Listen to me very carefully," he whispers, and his voice is ice. "You don't know what you're talking about. You don't know anything. And if you value your life, you'll stop digging."His eyes flash.Gold.For a split second, his silver-blue irises are swallowed by molten gold. I gasp, my heart slamming against my ribs, and then it's gone. He's backing away, his hands up, his face a mask of controlled fury."Sloane!" A voice cuts through the tension. "There you are!"Leo Vance jogs toward us, all smiles and shaggy blond hair. He's wearing a Hellions hoodie and neon sneakers that look ridiculous on a professional athlete."I've been looking everywhere for you," he says, clapping Rhys on the shoulder. "Coach wants to see you."Rhys doesn't move. He's still staring at me, his jaw tight."Go," Leo says, his voice dropping an octave. "I've got this."Rhys hesitates for a moment, then turns and walks away without a backward glance.Leo watches him go, then turns to me with a grin. "Sorry about that. Rhys can be... intense.""I noticed.""He's a great guy, though. Once you get to know him." Leo winks. "I'm his babysitter. Make sure he doesn't scare off all the nice reporters.""I'm not nice," I say flatly."Exactly why I like you." Leo laughs. "Anyway, I'd get out of here if I were you. The big guy's in a mood."I nod, still shaken, and head for the elevator. The ride down is a blur. I sit in my car for a full five minutes, my hands gripping the steering wheel, trying to slow my racing heart.He didn't threaten me physically. He threatened my career.That means he's hiding something bigger than a few bad penalties.I drive home. I kick off my shoes and open my laptop, my fingers flying across the keyboard.Silver allergy. Myth. Not real.I type the words into a search bar, then delete them. I type golden eyes shifters and hit enter.The results are insane. Conspiracy forums, fanfiction, fantasy novels. I scroll through page after page of nonsense, feeling my hope drain away. This is a dead end. I'm seeing things that aren't there.Then I find it.An obscure forum, buried deep in the internet's darkest corners. The header reads: "Shifter Hunters—We Know the Truth."The posts are unhinged. Rants about government cover-ups, about "wolves walking among us." I'm about to close the tab when a single line catches my eye."Silver doesn't kill a wolf. It marks it. The gold eyes are the tell...the soul burning through the skin."I stare at the screen. My blood runs cold.Slowly, I pull out my phone and scroll to the photo I took of Rhys during the interview. I zoom in on his eyes, pixelating the image until I can see every detail.Silver-blue. But I know what I saw. I know what I saw in that corridor.I whisper into the silence of my apartment. "What the hell are you?”