Chapter 16
Leo
The cage was small, reinforced steel, and smelled of bleach and despair.
I woke up on a cold concrete floor. My head was throbbing with a chemical hangover from the tranquilizers. My limbs felt like lead.
I sat up, groaning.
I wasn't in the cabin. I wasn't at The Hive.
I was in a holding cell. But not a police cell. The bars were silver-plated—an alloy that burned shifters on contact. The air was filtered, stripped of scents.
I stood up, swaying.
"Finally," a voice said.
I turned.
Standing on the other side of the bars was a man in a pristine charcoal suit. He was holding a briefcase. He looked familiar, but not from the hockey world.
He was Council.
"Sit down, Mr. Vance," the man said. "My name is Elias Thorne. No relation to your agent, though we share an appreciation for efficiency."
"Where am I?" I rasped. My throat felt like I had swallowed broken glass.
"You are in a secure facility owned by the North American Shifter Council," Thorne said.
"You were brought here after your... public display.
Shifting in front of humans? Leaving biological evidence of a mating?
Creating a video that is currently trending on Twitter with the hashtag #WerewolfVance? "
He sighed, opening his briefcase. "You have created a mess, Leo. A catastrophic, treaty-violating mess."
"I was drugged," I growled, gripping the bars. My hands hissed as the silver burned my skin, but I didn't let go. "By the North Shore pack."
"We know," Thorne said dismissively. "The North Shore Alpha has been reprimanded for his aggressive tactics.
But that doesn't change the facts. You are a liability.
The humans are asking questions. The university is launching an investigation.
The NHL is scrubbing your name from their databases as we speak. "
He pulled a file out of the briefcase.
"Here is the situation. The Council has intervened. We have scrubbed the internet. The video is gone. The medical records have been redacted. The 'anonymous source' has recanted."
"So it's over?" hope flared in my chest.
"Far from it," Thorne said coldly. "The damage control is expensive. And it requires a sacrifice."
He slid a photo through the bars.
It was Maya.
She was sitting on a hospital bed. She looked pale, small. A doctor was talking to her.
"Ms. Sterling," Thorne said. "She is currently at the Oakhaven General Hospital. Stress-induced exhaustion. Dehydration. The doctors are concerned about the pregnancy."
My heart stopped. "Is the baby..."
"The fetus is viable. For now," Thorne said. "But Ms. Sterling is under immense pressure. The media is camped outside her room. Her parents are flying in. Her scholarship is under review."
He leaned closer to the bars.
"Here is the deal, Leo. We can make this go away. We can compel the university to drop the investigation. We can silence the media. We can ensure Ms. Sterling keeps her scholarship and her reputation. We can even ensure that your child is protected and provided for."
"What's the price?" I asked. I knew there was a price.
"You," Thorne said. "You disappear."
"What?"
"You leave Oakhaven. Tonight. You sign a voluntary withdrawal from the university. You announce that you are seeking treatment for 'mental health issues' at a private facility. You cut all contact with Ms. Sterling. No calls. No texts. No visits."
"I can't do that," I said, backing away. "She needs me. We're Mates."
"She needs a future," Thorne snapped. "Right now, you are an anchor dragging her to the bottom of the ocean.
If you stay, the investigation continues.
She will be expelled for academic dishonesty involving a faculty member—yes, we can fabricate that.
She will lose her music career. She will be hounded by the press for the rest of her life as the girl who slept with the monster. "
He paused, letting the words sink in.
"And the child? If the humans find out it's a shifter hybrid? They won't let her keep it. CPS will intervene. The child will be put in the system. Or a lab."
I felt like I was being strangled. The walls of the cell were closing in.
"But if I leave?" I whispered.
"If you leave," Thorne said, his voice softening into a serpentine hiss, "she keeps her life. We will arrange for a generous anonymous trust for the child. She finishes her degree. She plays her cello. She lives a normal, human life."
"And me?"
"You come with us. We have a... rehabilitation program for Alphas with your condition. You will be monitored. Controlled. Safe."
It was a prison sentence. Life without her. Life in a cage.
But if I stayed... I destroyed her.
I looked at the photo of Maya on the hospital bed. She looked so fragile.
She had told me she wanted all of me. The man, the wolf, the fear.
But she didn't know the cost. She didn't know that loving me meant losing everything else.
I closed my eyes. I felt the tear track down my cheek.
"Okay," I whispered.
"Excuse me?"
"Okay," I said louder, opening my eyes. They were dead. The gold was gone. "I'll do it. I'll leave."
"Wise choice," Thorne said. He pulled a document out of his briefcase. "Sign here."
"One condition," I said.
"We aren't in a negotiating position, Mr. Vance."
"I need to see her," I said. "One last time. To... to end it. If I just disappear, she'll look for me. She's stubborn. She'll hunt me down. I have to make her hate me. I have to make her let go."
Thorne considered this. He checked his watch.
"You have ten minutes," he said. "We will transport you to the hospital. Do it clean. Do it fast. If you waver... the deal is off."
"I won't waver," I said.
Because I was already dead inside.
Oakhaven General Hospital. Room 304.
The hallway smelled of antiseptic and wilting flowers. Two massive Council guards stood by the elevators. Thorne walked beside me, his hand hovering near a concealed weapon.
I was wearing my torn jeans and a grey hoodie they had given me. I looked like a homeless person. I felt like a ghost.
We stopped outside Room 304.
"Five minutes," Thorne whispered. "Don't make a scene."
I opened the door.
The room was dim. The blinds were drawn.
Maya was awake. She was sitting up in bed, staring at the muted TV. She looked... hollow. Her eyes were red-rimmed. Her hair was messy.
When I stepped in, she turned.
Her face transformed. It lit up like someone had flipped a switch inside her soul.
"Leo!"
She scrambled to get out of bed, ignoring the IV line in her arm.
"No, stay there," I said, holding up a hand. I stayed by the door. I couldn't get close to her. If I smelled her... if I touched her... I wouldn't be able to do this.
"You're okay," she sobbed, sinking back onto the pillows. "Oh my god, I thought... the blood at the cabin... I thought they killed you."
"I'm fine," I said. My voice was cold. flat. robotic.
She frowned, sensing the shift. "Leo? What's wrong? Why are you standing there?"
"I came to say goodbye," I said.
She froze. "Goodbye? Where are you going? The police... Harper said they dropped the investigation. It's over. We can—"
"There is no 'we', Maya," I interrupted.
The words hung in the air like poison gas.
She blinked, confused. "What?"
"I'm leaving," I said. "I'm withdrawing from Blackwood. I'm going... away."
"Away? Where? I'll come with you. I can transfer. We can—"
"No," I snapped. "You aren't listening. I am leaving you."
She stared at me. Her mouth opened, but no sound came out. She looked like I had just slapped her.
"Why?" she whispered. "Because of the scandal? Leo, we talked about this. We said we'd figure it out. Plan B. Us."
"There is no Plan B," I said. I had to be cruel. I had to twist the knife. "Plan B was a fantasy. A delusion born of hormones and adrenaline."
I took a step closer, forcing a sneer onto my face.
"Look at you, Maya. You're in a hospital bed. You're losing your scholarship. Your life is falling apart. And why? Because of a hookup that got out of hand."
"A hookup?" Her voice broke. "We are Mates. You knotted me. We're having a baby."
"Biology," I dismissed. "It's just biology. Wolves have instincts. I needed release. You were there. You smelled good. That's all it was."
Tears streamed down her face. "You don't mean that. You told me you loved me. At the cabin. You told me about your father."
"I told you a sob story to get into your pants," I lied. It felt like I was ripping my own heart out with rusty pliers. "It worked, didn't it?"
"No," she shook her head. "No. I know you. I felt you. You aren't like this."
"This is exactly what I am," I growled. "I'm a predator, Maya. I consume things. And I'm done consuming you. You're empty. You're broken. And quite frankly... you're a liability."
"A liability," she repeated, the word sounding foreign on her tongue.
"Yes. You're dragging me down. I have a career to think about. I can't be babysitting a fragile musician with daddy issues."
I looked at her stomach.
"And the kid?" I said casually. "Get rid of it. Or keep it. I don't care. Just don't put my name on the birth certificate. My lawyers will be in touch with a check."
That broke her.
The light in her eyes died. It didn't just fade; it was extinguished.
She looked at me with a mixture of horror and pure, unadulterated hatred.
"Get out," she whispered.
"Gladly."
"Get out!" she screamed. She grabbed the plastic pitcher of water from her bedside table and threw it at me.
It hit the doorframe with a crash, splashing water everywhere.
"You are a monster," she hissed. "Everyone was right. You are exactly like your father."
The accusation hit its mark. It was the truth. I was destroying the person I loved to save myself (and her, but she would never know that).
"Yeah," I said softly. "I know."
I turned and walked out the door.
I didn't look back.
I walked down the hallway, past Thorne, past the guards.
"Done?" Thorne asked.
"Done," I said.
We walked to the elevator. The doors closed.
As the elevator descended, my legs finally gave out.
I slid down the wall, collapsing onto the floor. I pulled my knees to my chest and buried my face in my arms.
I didn't cry. I couldn't cry. I was hollowed out.
I had saved her life.
And in doing so, I had ensured that she would hate me for the rest of it.
Maya
The door closed.
The silence in the room was absolute.
I stared at the puddle of water on the floor.
A hookup. A liability. Get rid of it.
The words echoed in my head, bouncing around like shrapnel.
He hadn't just broken my heart. He had annihilated my reality.
Everything—the cabin, the touch, the "I love you"—it was all a lie. A game played by a bored predator.
I placed a hand on my stomach.
I felt... nothing. Just a cold, sick weight.
The door opened. A nurse rushed in.
"Ms. Sterling? I heard shouting. Are you okay?"
I looked at her.
"I want to go home," I said. My voice was steady. Dead.
"You need to rest—"
"I am checking out," I said, ripping the IV tape off my arm. "Now."
"Where are you going?"
"I don't know," I said. I swung my legs over the side of the bed.
I stood up. I was dizzy, but I didn't fall.
I walked to the closet and grabbed my clothes—the jeans and sweater I had worn to the exam. The flannel shirt was gone. Good.
I dressed quickly.
I walked out of the hospital.
I didn't call Harper. I didn't call my parents.
I walked to the bus stop.
I sat on the bench. It was snowing again.
I watched the flakes fall.
I wasn't crying anymore. The tears had stopped when he called our baby a liability.
I touched my stomach again.
"It's just us, peanut," I whispered to the cold air.
"Just us."
I looked down the road, away from the university, away from the arena, away from the memory of gold eyes and lies.
I didn't know where I was going.
But I knew one thing.
I was never playing the cello again.
And I was never, ever letting a wolf near me again.