Chapter 3: Teeth and Territory
1275 Words
By Jaden Veret
"Are you going to keep staring, or are you going to let me finish dressing?"
My voice was too rough, the feral edge scraping against my vocal cords before I could smooth it down. I didn't move my hands from the waistband of my jeans, but every muscle in my back locked like coiled iron.
The new guy, stood frozen in the doorway, his knuckles white around his key. His cheeks were still flushed a violent, dark crimson from our collision on the quad, and his chest was heaving. But it was his scent that was currently turning my brain into a war zone. Up close, in the confined space of room 304, it was deafening. Cedar wood, ozone, and a deep, buried heat that made my inner wolf slam violently against its cage.
Mate. The word roared through my head, a wild, demanding chant that almost made my vision blur with gold.
Vance swallowed hard, his eyes finally snapping up from my waist to meet my glare. "I... the housing office gave me this room. I didn't know anyone was in here yet."
"Well, I am," I snapped. I lunged across the space between our beds, grabbing a gray towel off the back of my desk chair and wrapping it around my waist with a swift, aggressive jerk. The movement was too fast, too aggressive for a human, and I saw him flinch, his shoulder hitting the doorframe.
I pointed a finger straight at his chest, the static electricity between us still crackling in the air. "Let’s get something straight right now, cowboy. That side of the room is yours. This side is mine. You don't touch my things, you don't cross the center line of the floor, and you don't look at me. Understand?"
Vance’s jaw clenched, his eyes darkening as his own defensive walls came slamming back up. The vulnerability vanished, replaced by a cold, rigid stiffness that looked almost military. " Suits me fine. I don't intend to get in your way."
"Good." I grabbed a black t-shirt and my varsity hockey jersey off my bed, throwing them over my head before he could see the way my ribs were heaving. My heart was hammering a frantic, erratic rhythm against my ribs. He's a guy. He's a human. The thoughts slammed into my consciousness, fighting against the ancient, primal instinct that was screaming at me to drag him across the floor and mark him.
I pulled my boots on, ignoring the way my fingers trembled against the laces. I needed to get out. The walls of the room felt like they were closing in, the air too thick with his scent. If I stayed in this room for another five minutes, my control was going to snap completely.
"I’m leaving," I muttered, not looking at him as I grabbed my gym bag. "Keep your trunk on your side."
I pushed past him, deliberately brushing my shoulder against his one more time just to feel that violent, electric spark rip through my skin. He let out a sharp, hitched breath as I strode past, slamming the heavy wooden door behind me.
The ice rink locker room smelled of sweat, leather, and frozen dampness, a familiar, sharp environment that usually calmed the noise in my head. Today, it wasn't working.
"Veret! Move the puck, man! What the hell are you looking at?"
Oliver Edmund, my Beta, my defensive partner on the ice, and the only person in this city who knew exactly what I was, slammed his stick against the boards, his blue eyes flashing with a warning as he skated past me.
I shook my head, my skates digging into the ice as I chased down the stray puck. My coordination was off. My reflexes were firing too early, the raw, chaotic energy of my wolf bleeding into my muscles.
"Alright, that’s wrap!" the coach barked from the bench, his whistle blowing. "Hit the showers. Veret, figure out whatever the hell is clogging your gears before Saturday’s game."
I didn't answer. I skated off the ice, my breathing heavy, my chest burning.
Ten minutes later, the locker room had cleared out, the rest of the hockey team heading toward the dining hall. I sat on the wooden bench, a towel around my neck, my head in my hands. The scent of the new boy was still stuck in the back of my throat, refusing to wash away.
The heavy metal door of the locker room clicked shut. The latch engaged with a definitive, heavy thud.
"You’re vibrating, Jaden."
Oliver walked out from the shower area, a dry shirt in his hand. He wasn't smiling. The easy, casual teammate persona he wore for the school was completely gone, replaced by the sharp, intense focus of a Beta whose Alpha was unravelling. He stopped three feet away, his head tilting as his nostrils flared, taking a deep, searching breath of the air around me.
Oliver’s eyes narrowed instantly, his body going rigid. "What is that?"
"What is what?" I grumbled, keeping my eyes fixed on the floorboards.
"Don't play stupid with me," Oliver growled, stepping closer, his voice dropping into the low, private frequency of our pack link. "Your scent is completely chaotic, but beneath the panic, there’s something else. It’s sweet. It’s sharp. It’s all over your clothes, Jaden. Who were you with before practice?"
"Nobody," I said, my jaw tightening. "I was checking into my dorm."
Oliver slammed his fist against the metal lockers behind me, the loud CLANG echoing through the empty room. "The pack is fraying at the edges, Jaden! The Enforcers are questioning your authority because they can taste your instability in the air during assembly. You have less than a month before you lose your mind and take the rest of us down with you. So don't lie to me."
He leaned down, his eyes locking onto mine, burning with a fierce, desperate intensity. He was pushing my buttons, testing the boundaries of my dominance because he was terrified for our survival.
"Have you found a mate?" Oliver challenged directly, his voice a harsh whisper. "Is that what this is? Did you find her?"
My inner wolf reared up at the challenge, a low, warning rumble vibrating deep in my chest. I wanted to snap at his throat for questioning me, but the sheer weight of the truth paralyzed me. How was I supposed to tell him? How was I supposed to tell a traditional, high-born Beta that the fated mate our pack was praying for wasn't a powerful she-wolf from a neighboring territory?
That my mate was a guy. A human guy. A guy who looked at me like I was a freak, who didn't have a single drop of wolf blood in his veins, and who was currently unpacking his clothes in my bedroom.
"Jaden," Oliver pressed, his tone softening slightly but remaining relentless. "If you found her, you need to bring her to the packhouse tonight. We need the bond initialized. The pack needs an Alpha female to ground the energy, or the transition this winter is going to kill us. Who is she?"
I closed my eyes, a bitter, exhausted laugh escaping my lips. I rubbed my face with my hands, feeling the sharp edge of my canines pressing against my bottom lip.
"I found a mate, Oliver," I whispered, the confession tasting like lead on my tongue.
Oliver let out a massive, visible breath of relief, his shoulders dropping. "Thank God. Where is she? Which house is she from? Is she a local…"
”Oliver. My mate is a human."
- Writer
