Page 36

Maya

I wake smashed against Dakota’s chest and I chuckle, because—of course he’d find me, even after his heat, crawling into the guest bedroom to curl around me. “How does it feel to be officially bonded?” I ask curious, my fingers tracing the air near his bites, not touching, not yet.

“Feels a little weird but perfect,” he says. “I can feel everything but it’s comforting, having them in my head.” Dakota tilts my chin up, his thumb gentle, his eyes searching. “Would you ever want this?” he asks. “Or do you know right now it’s not something you’d want?” His question hangs, my mind spiraling—Nox’s bite, his prison, the scar that screams I’ll never be free.

Minutes pass, my thoughts a tangle, and then I find my voice. “I thought I wouldn’t want it,” I say. “I thought there’s a lot I wouldn’t want after Nox, but I watched them with you, and it was so beautiful, and you look so happy.”

Dakota’s eyes soften, his hand cupping my face, grounding me. “That’s how it’s supposed to be. It isn’t supposed to hurt. It isn’t supposed to feel like a prison.”

“I do want it,” I say, my voice trembling but sure, tears falling down my cheeks. “I think I’ve just been so scared it’d end up the same, but it’s not the same at all, and I don’t even know why I keep comparing.”

Dakota smiles, his thumb brushing my tears. “Because he tried to ruin you. He didn’t, but he tried, and now you’re realizing there are other beautiful things in the world.” His words are a balm as I lean up to kiss him.

The kisses deepen, his hands in my hair, my fingers tracing his chest. I pull back, breathless, my resolve solidifying. “I’m gonna tell them.”

Dakota’s grin widens, his eyes sparkling. “There’s no rush. They’ll wait as long as you need.”

“No, there isn’t a rush,” I say, “but waiting doesn’t do anything for me. Using my scar as an excuse isn’t true anymore. I don’t have any reason keeping me except myself.”

He nods, his hand squeezing mine. “Well, I’d love to have you,” he says, “and I know Roman and Holt would be honored.” His face twists a little bit and I catch on to his worry.

“I’m not sure how it happened but I can feel Brogan. He’s not left out. He’s… really happy right now.” I frown, a spark of desire running through that bond and glance up at Dakota for answers.

He chuckles, laughing at my confusion. “I’m sure he’s really happy because of you but he’s also currently kissing Roman.”

My eyes widen as I scramble from the bed, Dakota chuckling as I go to see if I can catch the cutest couple in the entire world tangled around each other.

Thanksgiving is over, the week at the cabin coming to an end, two new bites tying me to my pack. I asked them of only one thing, that they stay away from my neck and they complied. However, now every time Holt kisses me, I light up like a Christmas tree and Roman decided that my ear was fair game. It would have been fine but he keeps nibbling on it, massaging it, making me need more than can be accomplished in public. Of course, Brogan and Dakota thought it was hilarious until I told them I’d withhold all sexual activities for a week.

No one thinks it’s funny anymore.

I’m back in Holt’s car, my body buzzing with my mates’ bonds, their emotions pulsing like heartbeats. Dakota’s practically glued to me, sprawled across the backseat, his head in my lap, his fingers tracing my thigh, driving me up the wall as Roman and Holt take turns nursing their bites on his shoulders. I almost begged them to pull over, to fuck me on the side of the road, but Roman’s fingers, slipping under my skirt, curling inside my pussy, held me over until we reached my dorm.

Brogan was waiting when we got back, fucking me hard and fast into the bed as I fell apart under him. But now, reality’s back and I’m sitting across from a police officer in a sterile campus office, my hands twisting in my lap. Holt pushed for a protective order against Nox, even though he hasn’t shown up, no texts, no calls, nothing since last week. I didn’t want to make it a big thing, but I’m tired of worrying, of glancing over my shoulder, of Nox’s shadow tainting this happiness.

Roman’s beside me, his arm protective around my shoulder, his warmth a shield as I explain why I need this—Nox’s threats, the two incidents on campus, his grip on my arm, his whispered promises to find me. I hand over evidence—texts, a blurry photo from that night, my scar a silent witness—and my voice shakes, but I’m as confident as I can be because I’m done letting him control me. The officer, a woman with kind eyes, nods, jotting it all down as Roman’s hand tightens around me, drowning my fear.

“I’ll get this filed,” the officer says, looking up, “and see if we can’t get a judge to sign off sooner rather than later. We’ve had reports on Nox Carter and he’s not allowed on campus.” She pauses, her voice softening. “I do have good news, though. He’s been arrested, currently held on bail.”

“Wait, he hasn’t paid it?”

“Apparently, he doesn’t have the funds. Ties into the whole— allegedly —dealing fakes, and now he’s hounded for money he doesn’t have. The friends he keeps spouting about want nothing to do with him or maybe he never had the connections in the first place” Her words sink in, relief washing through me, tentative but real, because he’s stuck, for now, his power crumbling.

“But he could always find me,” I say, fear creeping back in. “He had connections with the police, and…”

The officer shakes her head, her eyes steady. “He hasn’t called or shown up with any of those connections, Maya, so I’m thinking whatever he was doing to get to you wasn’t lawful.”

I thank her, not able to leave the office fast enough as Roman guides me outside. He turns me to face him, searching my face. “How you feeling?”

“Good,” I say, grinning, the weight lifting from all the bullshit Nox kept throwing at us. “Really good. Good enough to win this week.”

Roman laughs, his purr rumbling as he slings his arm around my shoulder. “That’s my girl,” he says, pulling me close, his lips brushing my temple. “Let’s go show Holt we’ve still got a little energy left, yeah?”

The last game before winter break has the rink pulsing with energy, the crowd roaring, the ice gleaming under bright lights. There’s so many emotions swirling through my new bonds—trust, love, excitement, thrumming through me like a heartbeat, tying me to them. I’ve still got my dad’s jacket wrapped around me, my curls loose around my shoulders, my scar on shoulder in full display.

I narrowly passed my classes, the last few weeks full stolen moments of kisses, cuddles, and more love than I ever thought possible, my pack’s attention a warmth I never knew I could have. Holt’s given me more responsibility, trusting me with plays and strategies, until I feel like this is my team, my role, my home, and I’ve stepped into the coach’s shoes, ready to truly take on the responsibility. The dean’s mentioned that the position is open for me if I want, that I just have to take it and after today, I think I might finally be ready.

The guys have flourished, their synergy on the ice a testament to our work. Brogan’s still adorably shy around Roman, their kisses soft and tentative, not going much further, and I’m okay with that, happy they’ve found a a balance. We’ve been living out of my dorm or Dakota’s these past weeks, our pack a messy, perfect tangle of blankets, laughter, and hilarious mishaps as we navigate these new designations and bonds.

It’s no secret I’m Holt and Roman’s Beta, bonded to Dakota, claimed by their bites on my lip and ear, but Brogan steals me away for moments that just ours. I’ve fallen in love in a way I never thought I could, and now, as the game starts, I’m dreaming of Christmas with my mates, a family, a future, my finger tracing my bitten lip, Holt’s purr humming in my ear as our bonds hums with love.

The game kicks just like the last few, but the energy is different, heightened, renewed even. We’re screaming plays, Holt’s voice steady beside me, my hands signing signals— breakaway, Roman! screen, Dakota! —our teamwork seamless, my pride fierce for a team I’ve helped grow over the past few weeks.

It’s a tough game, the other team fast and physical, blocking shots, but I gave my men a challenge: every successful play, I owe them a kiss, and they’re fighting, hungry, not just for the win, but for me, for us . The first period’s brutal, but then Roman dekes, fires, and— score! —the puck slams past the goalie, the crowd erupting through the stands.

“Fuck yeah!” I yell, scribbling something in my notebook for later, as Holt wraps an arm around my shoulder, pressing a soft kiss to my head. We can win this, I tell myself.

The second goal comes fast, Tanner’s wrist shot clean, the team’s momentum soaring with every play that succeeds. Halftime hits, the team skating over but my mates get to us first, hair sweat-slicked against their foreheads. Roman and Brogan reach me first, smothering me in kisses before Dakota steals me, bending me backward as he kisses the life out of me, trying to outdo the others.

“Mine,” Dakota growls as he pulls back. I playfully swat at his chest, the rest of the team grinning at our display of love. My cheeks heat under their stares as I rumble through a few more plays, letting them know that we got this if we just keep up this momentum. We throw together some awful ass, hand in the middle, go-team chant before they’re back on the ice and I’m holding my breath, praying for a win.

There’s two minutes left on the clock, the score tied, the crowd’s roar a heartbeat in my ears. The players are tired, their skates slowing, but I’m watching, every move, every pass, my heart pounding, my team fighting for this win, for me, for us. Holt leans over, tapping the notebook in my head. “Use the play, gorgeous.”

I hesitate. “We’ve only practiced it a few times.” Doubt creeps in because we haven’t gotten it perfect. No matter how many times we try, it always falls apart. I’m beginning to think it’s something wrong with the play and not that the team can’t get it.

“Trust they’ll do it right when it counts,” Holt offers, his hand squeezing mine.

I raise my hand, flashing the rocker sign, grimacing, because—god, I hate Logan’s idea.

I mutter to Holt, “I still hate that, should’ve never let them choose the sign.”

Logan catches it, patting his helmet, and then signals the team. They shift, my play unfolding, my heart in my throat. One minute left, there’s no time for mistakes—either we score, or it’s overtime and that’s the last thing I want right now.

The other team is already starting to scramble, unable to keep up with what’s happening as I scream internally for this to work. The Hawks are working my play and just as the buzzer blares, Roman fires, the puck soaring, and— goal! —it slams past the goalie, the net rippling.

The crowd explodes, my shriek tearing free as I turn and throw myself at Holt, his arms catching me, his lips crashing into mine. “Oh my god, it worked!” I gasp, tears gathering in my eyes, my heart so full it hurts.

The moment Holt lets me down, I gather my father’s jacket a little tighter around my shoulders, pressing a small kiss just inside the collar. “I did it, Dad.”

Holt’s eyes soften, his hand cupping my cheek. “Go to your team. I think the coach deserves it.”

The team swarms me as I step out onto the ice, all of them lifting me up, their voices chanting, “Coach M! Coach M!”

Dakota grumbles, pushing through, as he tugs at me for them to let me down. “Put her down so you don’t break her.”

One of the guys—Jake, probably—starts laughing. “Why, is she pregnant?” and I roll my eyes, swatting the air.

“There are no babies!” I push back, “I just don’t trust you to catch me when you lost that pass!” The team roars, laughter echoing through the rink as Brogan skates up tome.

“I knew you could do it, Coach.”

His words take me back to when I first stepped into the hockey rink, his assurance already there like he knew I’d make it. Everyone’s debating where we’re going for dinner but that’s cut short when Roman cuts in. “Actually, we have a bit of a trip to go on, and we’re on a schedule.”

My brows furrow, confusion settling in because I have no idea what he’s talking about.

“Found a cute little town to spend Christmas in,” Roman grins, “think it’s called Ansdale?”

“We’re going to meet your family?”

Roman promised that we would but it’s also a piece of home, a place I grew up in and haven’t yet returned to because of all the chaos I’ve been subjected to. I run to him, Roman catching me in his arms as he spins me around on the ice. Just over a month ago, I thought I only had myself but now I’ve got a pack, a team, and nephews.

God, I can’t fucking wait.