Dakota

Trudging across campus, my fingers keep drifting to my lips, tracing where Maya’s mouth was just minutes ago. Her taste lingers there—vanilla sugar, sweet like always, but there’s a scorched edge to it now, like Nox tried to ruin everything beautiful about her and failed. It’s still her, though, still that scent that used to fill my sheets, and it’s dragging up every damn memory I’ve tried to bury.

Her in my bed, curls splayed across my pillow, her body tight and warm around me when I was inside her, her gasps in my ear like a song I’d kill to hear again. A groan slips out as I scrub a hand over my face, trying to shake off thoughts of picking up where we started. She’s not ready for that, not yet, but god, I’m hoping she will be.

My feet take me toward the dorm hall by the rink—the one everyone calls Frostbite Hall because it’s always so damn cold. At least the heat works. I hopped up the steps to the second floor, my dorm toward the back corner, my head still in that kiss, the way she melted into me, then stiffened like she remembered she’s not supposed to want this. I was maybe a little too eager when she texted she was coming back. Couldn’t wait, couldn’t think straight. I just had to be there, had to hold her, kiss her, tell her she’s mine. Almost slipped and said I love her, too, but the fear in her eyes stopped me cold.

Not because she’s not ready—fuck, I get that—but because Nox ruined her. Ruined us. Four years ago, I was so close to spilling everything; how she was it for me, how I’d fight the world for her. Then she was gone. No texts, no calls, just a goddamn note.

I wish things were different.

Like that explained shit.

Granted, part of it was my fault, even if I knew something was off. We had been drifting apart in that last semester we were together, my attention stolen by the ice and her focus on something more, on something real. I kept delaying my confession because I wasn’t ready and I wish I had spilled it all months earlier. She would have never left my arms.

I regret it every damn day, even more so when she called me drunk a year ago, blubbering apologies through tears and slurred words about whatever hell Nox dragged her through. I couldn’t make sense of half of it—just her broken voice, begging me to forgive her for leaving. I did. Always will. And now she’s back, standing in that shitty dorm room like a miracle I don’t deserve and that’s all that matters.

A heavy sigh falls from my lips as I push inside to my dorm, not at all surprised when my men are tucked in my space—Roman sprawled out on my bed on his stomach and Holt propped against the headboard, a mass of bare skin and tattoos. Holt’s scrolling something on his phone, probably some new hockey bullshit he’ll reveal during practice, while Roman’s got his face buried in my pillow. The room smells like them—mahogany and citrus, a mingled aroma that I’ve come to love over the last year since we formed a little pack of our own.

Leaning against the doorframe, I take a few moments to take in the beauty of my men, all muscles and bare skin, the stark contrast of Holt’s golden brown to Roman’s cream. Roman lets out a little grunt, spreading further out on my bed, Holt glaring down at him before I clear my throat to acknowledge my presence. “Having fun without me, I see?” I murmur, Holt looking up, a slow easy grin on his face that makes my pulse kick.

“Thought you’d be longer playing welcome wagon,” Holt drawls, tossing his phone aside. His dark hair’s a mess, sticking up where Roman’s probably been tugging at it, and those brown eyes glint with something that’s half mischief, half promise. “What’s got my Kota Bug all wrapped up in his head?”

“Don’t call me that, you ass.” But there’s no heat in it and my Alpha knows it. Holt’s been worried for weeks, those sharp eyes catching every twitch and sigh I’ve tried to hide. He’s got every right to be, too, because I’ve been off and it’s got fuck-all to do with Maya coming back. Something’s been gnawing at me, a restlessness I can’t shake, but I shove it down, same as always because I don’t have time for anything to be wrong. I’ll just take comfort in this weird little pack we’ve carved out between the three of us

Roman the right wing, me the goalie, Holt the coaching assistant—it’s strange as hell, but it works. Holt would still be on the ice if not for that accident three years back, a shattered knee that ended his playing days. But when he came back to assist, he turned our dying streak into a goddamn dynasty. We haven’t lost a game since he started barking orders from the bench and he’s one of the best things to happen to this team—to me, to Roman. I shuffle over to the bed, shrugging off my coat and letting it fall to the ground, before plopping down on the side of the bed, nearly landing on Roman. Hovering over his back, I press a soft kiss to the back of his neck, tasting salt, citrus, and mahogany on my lips.

Roman squirms beneath me, a whine slipping out. “I’m sore,” he mumbles, voice muffled by the pillow. “Holt fucked me good.” I grin against his neck, nipping lightly, and the room goes quiet for a beat—just the sound of our breathing, Holt’s steady gaze still on me. Then Roman lifts his head, sniffing the air, his voice perking up. “Damn, you smell delicious. Who is that?”

I kiss his ear this time, lips brushing the shell as I murmur, “Maya.” It’s barely out of my mouth before Roman bolts upright, so fast I lose my balance and tumble off the bed, hitting the floor with a heavy thump.

“No fucking way?” he says, voice pitching up. “Seriously?”

I prop myself up on my elbows, chuckling. “Yeah, seriously.” I can’t help but remember the first time Roman caught a whiff of her scent on me, four years back—vanilla sugar clinging to my shirt after a night with her. He’d pinned me to this very bed and fucked me so hard I saw stars, growling questions about her the whole time. Who is she? What’s she like? I’d admitted I knew her—loved her, even—and he’d been hooked ever since, obsessed with a girl he’s never met.

“I’m wounded that you went to see her without me,” he mocks, like I’ve betrayed him personally. I just groan, sitting up to lean back against the nightstand.

“Ro, she doesn’t even know you,” I tease, dragging a hand through my hair. “Why the fuck would I take you over there?” He pouts and I can’t tell if he’s serious or just messing with me. Probably both. Roman’s always been a little feral about her, ever since I let her name slip one drunken night. Holt’s quieter about it, but he’s no less tangled up in this mess.

We’ve had these talks—lengthy, messy discussions about Maya, about us. Holt made it clear from the start: we’re free to be with whoever we want, no strings, no guilt. But if it’s permanent—if it’s pack—it’s a group decision. Roman’s been half in love with her from my stories alone, painting her into his fantasies like she’s already his. Holt’s never even seen her, just listened to me and Roman ramble about her like lovesick idiots, but I catch the way his jaw tightens sometimes, like he’s jealous of a ghost. I try not to bring her up too often—it hurts too much, a dull ache that’s been there since she left four years ago. She took a piece of me with her, and now she’s back, and it’s like that piece is clicking into place, which frankly is fucking terrifying.

“Well, you smell like a goddamn vanilla factory, Kota,” Roman muses. He flops off the bed in one fluid motion and lands on the floor straddling my thighs. His hands brace on my chest as he leans in sucking at my throat with wet eager pulls. Then he starts grinding down on my hips, heat building in my lower belly in a way that doesn’t completely make sense. Roman’s always been the fun one of us three. Laidback golden retriever energy mixed with a streak of obsession that flares up when he catches a scent he likes. Right now that’s Maya all over me and he’s losing his damn mind.

But it’s the way I respond to him and Holt that has me worried just like everything else. The way my instincts flare up, telling me that they’re proud of me when they give me attention like this. Ignoring all of that, I wrap my arms around him just to stall his hips before I explode in my pants like a goddamn teenager. My attention is stolen by our Alpha as he slips off the bed, stretching his arms upward, his back cracking and echoing in the silence. Muscles ripple under his skin, that thick Alpha cock swinging between his legs, my mouth instantly watering.

He knows exactly what he’s doing showing off like that, Holt flashing me a soft smile. “First off Ro, if you’re asking for more I didn’t do it right. And Kota, I’m glad she’s back but don’t let it ruin you if she’s not the same girl who left okay?” His voice carries that quiet weight he gets when he’s worried. I nod understanding how hard it is for him to trust anything good. Losing his sister and his career on the ice in the same year carved something out of him. Left him guarded. But I’m hellbent on keeping him happy even after we all graduate. Him and Roman both.

Roman’s still working my throat, nipping and licking as I catch Holt’s nostrils flare. He’s picking up Maya’s lingering vanilla sugar scent no doubt and his cock twitches half-hard. I smirk knowing it’s only a matter of time before she slots right in with us where she belongs.

Holt clears his throat and adds “Make sure you both are on time for practice or

there’ll be extra laps for the two of you.”

Roman pulls back from my neck long enough to chuckle. “I’d love to go a few rounds with Dakota. Hmm, what you think?” He wiggles his eyebrows, hoping I’ll crack but I can do damn well better than that.

I grab his shirt and drag him into a kiss

crashing our mouths together. He tastes like citrus and trouble and I deepen it

until Holt reaches over with a playful tug yanking Roman back. “Both of you

have an exam tomorrow morning. I’ll happily fuck you both later if that’s what

you need. Right now? Showers. Food. Then practice.”

Roman slumps with a dramatic sigh flinging his head back. “God, yes Dad .” Laughter ripples through the room bright as I haul myself up to grab a change of clothes and then head toward the cafeteria for sustenance. Roman takes the opportunity to climb back onto the bed, sprawling out again like Holt isn’t going to drag him into the shower in a few minutes.

Holt follows me, the lingering conversation I don’t want to have, heavy between us. Pausing just outside our attached bathroom, I lean back against the wall, Holt caging me in with his broad frame, his fingers brushing along the side of my face. Roman’s snores erupt into the room, the goddamn bastard so easily falling asleep while I’m trying to figure out what’s changing, why it’s changing. My Alpha lets out a small sound, something between a grunt and a purr and I sag against the wall, letting my guard drop. Holt’s the only one I get vulnerable with. Feels weird doing it with anyone else like I’d be handing over too much.

Holt leans in, pressing a soft kiss to my lips, lingering there for several seconds before pulling back. “I’m worried about you. You’ve been distracted and you’ve had a stomach bug for what, a few weeks now?”

I shrug, shifting under his gaze. “It’s not a stomach bug. Just irritable? I don’t know.”

He frowns, deepening the lines on his forehead and grumbles, “Kota I need you to take care of yourself, which means going to a fucking doctor. I know you hate them but whatever this is, isn’t going away.”

“Yeah, Monday. Promise,” I mutter.

He kisses me again softer this time like he’s sealing the deal. Then he whispers, “Hey I know you’re ecstatic but I don’t want to see you get hurt again. Picking up the pieces after she left…”

I cut him off feeling my throat tighten. “I don’t know why I need her. She’s been through so fucking much and I just… fuck sorry.” My voice cracks and I look away.

Holt cups my jaw tilting my face back to his, refusing to let me hide. “The heart wants what it wants and I would never in a million years tell you no. Just be careful.”

“And I can tell you’re locked on her scent too.” He opens his mouth like he’s about to argue but I reach down between us cupping his hard cock in the palm of my hand. Even his knot seems to be pulsing, need to lock something, someone. He bucks into my hand, a sharp breath leaving him as his nostrils flare in defiance. “I know that’s not all for us, Alpha.” Holt lets out a low growl rumbling from his chest, a whimper tearing from my throat before I can stop myself.

He pulls back, brows knitting together. “What was that?”

“Fuck I don’t know.”

He steps away fully now, studying me, confusion written all over his face. “Are you scared of me?”

“I swear I don’t know what that was. I just need a shower. I’ll catch you at practice okay?”

He narrows his eyes, raking them over me as if he’s going to pick up the problem I’m so desperately trying to hide. “Maybe we need to see that doctor this weekend.” I brush it off with “It’s fine” but he snaps “I wasn’t asking.”

Desperate to end the conversation, I slip into the bathroom and shut the door. Holt will bring it up again tomorrow, but for now I just need not to think about it.

I’m pretty sure I know what’s happening. It’s been a slow change creeping up for weeks now—including the reason why I just fucking whimpered in front of my Alpha. It had nothing to do with being scared of him and everything to do with the fact that I wanted to fix whatever made him growl.

Some part of me wanted to immediately submit to him, to give in, to drag Maya in here and hand her over if that would soothe that sound.

And there’s only one designation that would do that.

And it’s not a Beta.