Chapter 2 Chapter 2

Ryker

"You've got to be kidding me."

I shoved the office door open without bothering to knock, earning myself a sharp glare from Dean Hawthorne.

"If this is about the renovations, close the door before you start yelling."

That was already too late. I didn't bother to turn.

"It is about the renovations," I shot back, doing exactly what he expected. "Tell me this whole sharing-the-rink thing is some kind of joke."

Dean Hawthorne calmly closed the file in front of him and leaned back in his chair. Even without saying the words, I got my fucking answer.

I clenched my jaw. "There are over twenty sports facilities on this campus. The Elite team has playoffs coming. We don't have time to babysit a bunch of—"

"There is only one Olympic-sized ice rink," the Dean interrupted before I could finish the words.

"So move the Mavericks somewhere else," I bit back, my grip tightening on my bag strap.

"And where exactly do you expect speed skaters to train?"

I opened my mouth before realizing I didn't actually have an answer. The Dean continued before I could think of one.

"The renovations affected the only winter sports building Belgrave owns. Until construction is complete, both teams will share the facility."

Ah, fuck… Damn it!

Whoever suggested this ridiculous arrangement had just made my season a fucking nightmare. I wanted to find the person who pitched this brainless idea to the administration and kick them off the ice myself.

As I walked through the hallway, I could hear students whispering and barely paid them any attention.

"You look pissed."

I glanced sideways. Gideon had been waiting against the wall with both hands tucked into his pockets, looking far too amused for someone who was supposed to be my best friend.

"You knew and you didn't stop it?" I threw him a glare.

"I heard about it this morning… I don't exactly outrank the Dean. And don't tell me I could have warned you—you ignored my call." He shrugged.

I rubbed a hand over my face. "This is unbelievable."

We rounded the corner leading toward the rink. The moment we stepped inside, shouting echoed through the building.

Gideon whistled. "Looks like your boys already started without you."

My jaw clenched hard.

Through the crowd, I could see six members of the Elite team standing shoulder to shoulder, blocking the entrance. Opposite them was a much smaller group. Right in front stood a girl. Dark hair tied into a ponytail, hands tucked into her jacket pockets.

She looked tiny compared to the guys surrounding her, yet she didn't take a single step back. One of my teammates towered over her, obviously trying to force her away through Alpha authority.

She simply stared back at him, unaffected.

Lyca, my wolf, suddenly barked out a laugh inside my head.

Seriously?

“What?” I gritted back.

Your entire team can't handle one tiny wolfless girl?

“She's mute too.”

Exactly.

I watched as one of my players said something else, and she shoved him out of her way. My eyebrows lifted.

The hallway went dead quiet. Lyca laughed even louder.

I like her.

Stop talking, I snapped back at him, trying to keep my own frustration from bleeding into my expression.

Make your boys move, Lyca countered, his tone turning into a mocking growl. They're embarrassing us. Look at them, flexing their scents and throwing commands at a girl who literally doesn't have the biological wiring to feel it. It's pathetic, Ryker.

I didn't want to admit it, but my wolf was completely right.

The blond idiot who had just been shoved was letting his eyes flare, trying to force another wave of Alpha aura through the hallway just to salvage his bruised ego. It was painful to watch. 

"Captain," the blond guy barked, turning his head the second he noticed me standing there. "Tell this freak and her charity-case team to clear out. They're trying to take our ice slot."

I didn't answer him, turning my gaze to the tiny pretty figure in front of me.

Up close, she looked even smaller, but the defiance radiating off her was loud enough to fill the entire corridor. She didn't look like a misfit surrounded by predators, she was holding her ground.

"What time does our official practice start?" I asked, my voice cutting flatly through the quiet hall.

The blond blinked, caught off guard. "What? Our scheduled slot isn't for another hour, but we came down early to get the extra—"

"Then you wait," I interrupted.

"Ryker, come on—" Our goalie grumbled.

"Did I stammer?" I tilted my head, letting a bit of  my command slide into my tone.

It wasn't meant for the Mavericks, but it hit my teammates instantly. Their shoulders dropped, the aggressive posture dissolving into begrudging submission. An Alpha's order wasn't something they could just ignore, especially not from me.

"We have an hour," I continued, slipping my phone out of my pocket and glancing at the time. "Go hit the weight room or get changed in the lockers. Let them finish their slot."

Gideon let out a soft chuckle behind me, clearly enjoying how fast the standoff collapsed, while the rest of the Elite players exchanged irritated glances. They didn't dare argue with me. One by one, they grabbed their gear, muttered under their breaths, and began to back down, finally clearing the path to the rink doors.

Across from us, the Mavericks looked completely stunned. A few of the younger omegas practically exhaled sighs of relief, their shoulders slumping as the suffocating pressure in the air finally cleared out.

But that girl, what was her name again, Amber Jackson? She didn't relax.

Her eyes narrowed into deep suspicion, her gaze boring into me as if she were trying to figure out what kind of twisted angle I was playing. She clearly wasn't expecting the arrogant captain of the Elite team to give them an inch, let alone side against his own players.

I found myself leaning down slightly, stepping just far enough into her space to make sure she could read my lips clearly.

I mouthed four words: "You should thank me."

Amber didn't even blink. Her expression remained entirely unimpressed as she instantly raised her hand, executing a sharp, flawless sign language gesture right in front of my face I didn't understand.

“What was that?”

You wish. Lyca interpreted.

She turned her back on me before I could even respond, dismissing me entirely as she flagged down her team and led them straight through the doors toward the ice.

I stood there in the middle of the hallway, a genuine smirk tugging at the corner of my lips as I watched her retreat. She was daring, a total wild card in a school where power meant everything, and she had absolutely no problem standing up to the biggest threat in the room.

Oh, I definitely like her, Lyca roared with amusement, pacing back and forth in my mind.

"Shut up," I muttered under my breath, turning on my heel to follow Gideon toward the locker rooms.

If she wanted to play a game of territory on my ice, I was more than ready to play.