Chapter 11 #2
I pulled out and adjusted our clothes. I smoothed her skirt down. I fixed her glasses.
"You look..." I paused, looking at her flushed face. "You look like you just got ravaged in the stacks."
"I did." She smiled, lazy and satisfied. "And I have to go to Ethics class now."
"Irony," I said.
She kissed me one last time—a quick peck—and hopped down.
"Go out the back way," she instructed. "Wait five minutes."
"Yes, ma'am."
I watched her walk away, her hips swaying, her step light.
I leaned back against the shelf, closing my eyes.
This was dangerous. This was reckless. This was sustainable for maybe another week before we got caught.
But God, I had never felt more alive.
The high didn't last. It never did.
Two days later, reality came knocking. Hard.
I was in the locker room after practice. The team was buzzing. We were two days away from the Finals against the Badgers. The energy was manic.
I was taping my stick, trying to focus, when Coach Miller walked in.
He wasn't smiling.
"Thorne. My office. Now."
The room went quiet. Being called to the office two days before a final wasn't usually good news.
I stood up, ignoring the questioning look from Jax, and followed Miller.
His office was small, smelling of stale coffee and Deep Heat. He sat behind his desk and pointed to the chair.
"Sit."
I sat.
Miller stared at me for a long moment. He looked tired.
"I got a call today," Miller said. "From the Dean."
My stomach dropped. Riley. Had someone seen us? Had we been caught on camera in the library?
"It's about your grades," Miller continued.
I let out a breath. Grades. Okay. I could handle grades.
"I passed the midterm," I said. "I got a B-plus."
"I know. That's the problem." Miller slid a paper across the desk. "The Dean thinks it's suspicious. He thinks a jump from a D-minus to a B-plus in two weeks indicates... irregularity."
"Irregularity?" I bristled. "You mean cheating?"
"I mean he thinks the tutor is doing the work for you." Miller leaned back. "He wants to launch an academic inquiry. He wants to interview Bennett."
My blood ran cold.
If they interviewed Riley... if they put pressure on her... she was a terrible liar. And if they looked too closely at our "tutoring sessions," they might find something else. Like the fact that half our sessions happened in my truck.
"She didn't do the work," I said, my voice steady but hard. "She taught me. I did the test. You can check the handwriting. You can check the security footage of the exam room."
"I believe you, Spike," Miller said. "But the Dean is looking for a reason to cut the budget for the Latent Integration Program. If he can prove the tutors are just writing essays for the athletes, he can shut it down."
Shut it down.
If the program shut down, Riley lost her scholarship. She would have to leave IMU.
"What do I have to do?" I asked.
"You have to prove it," Miller said. "You have to take an oral exam. Tomorrow. In front of the Ethics Board."
"Tomorrow? But the game is Saturday."
"I know. It's crap timing. But if you don't do it, they suspend your eligibility pending investigation. You miss the final."
I clenched my fists.
This wasn't about grades. This was politics. They were using me to get to the program. To get to people like Riley.
"I'll do it," I said.
"Good." Miller nodded. "Get Bennett to prep you. But Spike... keep it professional. I've heard rumors."
I froze. "Rumors?"
"That you two are... close." Miller gave me a look. A warning look. "I don't care who you sleep with, son. But if you sleep with the girl whose scholarship depends on your grades? That's not just a violation. That's a power imbalance. That's coercion."
Coercion.
The word tasted like bile.
"It's not like that," I said through grit teeth.
"Make sure it doesn't look like that," Miller advised. "Dismissed."
I walked out of the office feeling like I was carrying a lead vest.
I needed to find Riley. I needed to warn her.
I pulled out my phone to text her, but it started ringing in my hand.
Caller ID: Dad (Prison).
I stared at the screen.
My father never called. He was in a maximum-security facility for Unbound Alphas. He was allowed one call a month, and he usually used it to scream at his lawyer.
I should ignore it. I should let it go to voicemail.
But the fear—the old, childhood fear—made my thumb slide across the screen.
"Hello?" I answered, stepping into the empty hallway.
"Spike," the voice rasping on the other end was like sandpaper on bone. "My boy."
"What do you want, Dad?"
"I saw the game," he said. They let them watch sports in the common room. "Against the Storm. You didn't hit him."
"I got a penalty," I said defensively.
"You stopped," my father hissed. "You had him by the throat, and you stopped. Why?"
"Because I'm not you," I said coldly.
"No," he laughed. It was a wet, wheezing sound. "You stopped because you were leashed. I saw you look up. Who is she?"
I stopped walking. "What?"
"The girl. The anchor. I saw your eyes clear when you looked at the box. You found a Mate."
"You're crazy," I said, my heart hammering.
"Don't lie to me, boy. I can hear it in your voice. You found a Mate. And you're weak for it."
"I'm stronger than you ever were," I snarled.
"Are you?" He paused. "Does she know? Does she know about the blood? Does she know that by the time you're thirty, you'll be just like me? Does she know you'll eventually tear her apart?"
"Shut up!" I shouted. The echo rang down the hallway.
"Tell her, Spike," he whispered. "Tell her before you kill her. Or better yet... leave her. Save her the trouble."
The line went dead.
I stood there, gripping the phone until the screen cracked under my thumb.
Does she know?
I thought about Riley in the library. I thought about her smile, her trust, her body yielding to mine.
I hadn't told her. Not really. I had told her I was afraid of the madness, but I hadn't told her the statistics. I hadn't told her that 80% of Alphas with Unbound parents eventually went Unbound themselves.
I was a ticking time bomb. The scout knew it. My father knew it.
And I was dragging Riley into the blast zone.
I needed to pass the oral exam to save her scholarship.
But after that?
Maybe my father was right. Maybe the only way to protect her... was to let her go.
My phone buzzed again.
Riley: Hey! Just finished class. Want to sneak into the observatory tonight? I have the key.
I stared at the message. I looked at the cracked screen.
I typed back:
Me: Can't. Miller wants me to study. Oral exam tomorrow.
I hesitated. Then added:
Me: I need you to quiz me. Library. 8 PM.
I deleted the "I love you" I almost typed.
Professional. I had to be professional. For her sake.
I pocketed the phone and walked out into the cold, the darkness settling over me like a familiar coat.