Beneath the Ice : Claimed by My Three Hockey Alphas

Riley~ The wind cut straight through my coat the second I stepped off the curb. It was way too small. No matter how hard I yanked it down, it kept riding up over my stomach. I clutched my sketchbook tighter against my chest and stared at the ground, hoping no one would notice me. The other pack kids already stood in their tight little circles, laughing and shoving each other. They ignored me like I didn’t exist. Or worse. Like they wished I didn’t. What was the point of even showing up? Mother had told me I needed to socialize after the hockey game today. Talk to people. Try to make friends. The thought alone made my stomach twist in fear as I shifted from foot to foot, waiting for the bus that always came late when I needed it most. My fingers were already numb around the edges of my sketchbook. It was the only thing that felt safe. I had stayed up all night with it, but the pages were filled with things that scared me. Wolves that showed up in my dreams whether I wanted them or not. I hated them. I hated how real they felt compared to the kids standing just a few feet away. The bus finally stopped. I climbed on without looking at anyone and hurried to the seat at the very back. No one sat near me. They never did. I made them uncomfortable. Too big. Took up too much space. By the time we reached the school, the halls were already loud with voices and the sound of hockey sticks clattering against lockers. I kept my head down and walked as fast as I could. If I could just reach the art room without being seen… It didn’t work. A hard shove slammed me sideways into the lockers. The metal rattled so loudly that half the hallway turned to look. Jax Callahan stood over me. He was already too tall for thirteen, dark hair falling into his eyes and new scar cutting across his cheek. All the girls liked him but to me, he was the most terrifying being to ever exist. “Where do you think you’re going, Kensington?” I pushed myself off the lockers with shaking hands and fixed the strap of my bag. “C-Class…” “With that body?” Theo’s voice floated in from the side, light and mocking. He was already grinning as he walked closer. Unlike Jax, he had golden hair and a perfect posture with the kind of smile that always made everyone else laugh. “You sure the chairs can handle you?” A few kids snickered. Of course they did. Theo always made sure of that. I glanced past them and saw the last one. Kai Nakamura. He stood further down the hall, with silver hair and his arms crossed. Just watching. He never said anything but he never stopped them either. That somehow made it worse. I hated him the most. He could tell them to stop and they'd listen but he did nothing. Jax’s hand stayed on my arm longer than it needed to. His fingers pressed into the soft part just above my elbow and I flinched in pain. “You really think anyone wants to look at you longer than they have to?” His voice dropped lower. “Even your own pack is embarrassed. Your dad’s soft. Everyone knows it. And an omega built like you? Fat and ugly. No Alpha’s ever going to claim that. Hell, no one wants something like you.” Something cold and heavy settled in my chest. I wanted to run. I wanted to disappear. Instead I just stared at the floor and waited for it to end. Giving them a reaction only made it last longer. Theo stepped closer and held out a half-eaten protein bar he’d clearly taken from the team room. “Here. Diet version. You look like you need it.” When I didn’t take it, he let it fall at my feet. “Pick it up.” I didn’t move. Jax’s boot nudged the bar closer to my shoes. “Pick. It. Up.” The hallway went quiet. Everyone was watching. Please… someone help me. Anyone. Why won’t anyone help me? My hands curled into weak fists at my sides. Heat climbed up my neck as I felt every soft part of my body under their stares, the way my stomach pressed against my jeans, the way my thighs filled the space, the way every eye stuck to the places that were already too much. I bent down slowly and picked up the bar. Theo grinned like he’d won. “Good girl.” I straightened and walked past them without another word. My legs felt unsteady, but I forced them to keep moving. Behind me, the laughter followed. I didn’t look back. The art room was empty when I finally reached it. I shut the door as quietly as I could and dropped my bag on the table. My hands were still trembling. I pulled out my sketchbook and flipped to a blank page. The pencil moved before I could stop it. A frozen lake. The same one from my dreams. Dark water under cracked ice. Shadows moving underneath. Mid-stroke, my hand started to shake badly. The room tilted. For a few seconds everything went black. When I opened my eyes again, a half-finished wolf stared up at me from the page. Blood dripped from its muzzle. Its eyes looked too much like Jax’s. Panic hit so hard I almost fell off the stool. I ripped the page out, crumpled it, and shoved it deep into my bag with shaking hands. No one could ever see that. Especially not them. I sat there breathing too fast, staring at the empty page. The stool dug into my thighs. My soft stomach folded when I leaned forward. I hated the way it felt. I hated how every part of me seemed too much and not enough at the same time. Hot tears burned my eyes, but I forced them back. Crying would only make everything worse. I stayed until the final bell rang, forcing my hands to stay still, forcing myself not to draw anything else. *** By the time I got home the sky was already turning dark. The Kensington house still looked respectable from the outside. If only people knew how cold it felt inside. Mom tried to hand me a cup of tea the second I walked through the door. “You’re late. Are you okay? You look pale.” “I’m fine.” I wasn’t. Dad sat at the table polishing one of his old warrior blades and didn’t look up. I went straight toward my room, but their voices carried through the thin walls. “…the Elder’s new interest…” “…keeping the girl quiet…” “…if they find out what she can do…” I didn’t wait to hear more. I climbed the narrow stairs to the attic and shut the door behind me as quietly as I could. The air was colder up here. Dusty. Quiet. I pulled the hidden sketchbook from under the loose floorboard and opened it to a clean page. My hands still smelled like paint and fear. I drew three wolves. One with a scar across its face. One with bright eyes and a cruel mouth. One that only watched. A smaller, darker figure sat in the middle of them. Behind them, a fourth wolf waited in shadow. I couldn’t see its face. I didn’t try. I stared at the page for a long time. Then I whispered the only thing that felt true, my voice barely louder than a breath. “I’m so scared of them… I wish they would just die!”