The Price of Ice

Chapter 4

H e could have gone back to play three days later, even if he was still a little sore. He’d played while a little sore post-heat more than once, after all. But apparently this time he was getting benched for someone else’s fuckup as well as hurt. And he had to show up to the game as well, sit on the bench and look like he wanted them to win, which he did, obviously, they were still his team, but he also wanted...

Levy dropped down next to him after his shift, letting their elbows touch but not jostling him. “Hey.”

Kallen glanced at him, suddenly terrified. Did they all know what had happened? He kept his gaze on the ice, even if he couldn’t have said who had the puck. “Hey.”

“You feeling better?” Levy asked, without any of his usual cheer.

“Sure,” Kallen said, knowing he was lying. His arse was better, but he felt like shit, barely able to swallow past the rage beating in his throat. His pulse was probably faster than if he’d been skating full-tilt right then.

Once the match was over—they’d lost so at least he didn’t have to congratulate them on it—he stood up and started to walk out.

It said a lot about his state of mind that he didn’t realise he was being addressed until Levy, shoeless, caught up to him and grabbed his forearm. “Hey!”

He blinked at the young alpha, confused.

“Wait for me?” Levy asked. “I’ll drive you home, feed you something?” And his smile wasn’t quite there, but Kallen could see it in the softness in the corner of his eyes.

For a moment, he nearly shook his head and turned away again. But then he thought about going home with Johnson instead, about how the veteran would try to make small talk and analyse the plays with him, and Kallen wouldn’t know what he was talking about. “Yeah, okay.”

IN THE CAR, LEVY PUT the radio on, then waved his hand towards it, flashing him a smile. “Your choice.”

Kallen didn’t really care that much right then. Except that the fast music Levy must have been listening to on the way to the stadium was getting on his nerves, so he changed stations until something softer came on. The words were lost to him, but they filled the silence between them with something that wasn’t what they weren’t saying. What Kallen wasn’t saying because he didn’t even think he was allowed to. The twins had stopped Vandy, and the doctor had made sure he was okay, but other than that... It really seemed like they all were going to pretend nothing had happened.

They didn’t speak at all as they made their way upstairs, Levy lugging his bag and humming something under his breath, fingers silently beating on the lift railing.

The moment they were inside, his host dropped everything by the door and shot for the kitchen.

Taking a seat on the sofa seemed like the path of less resistance. Whatever Levy wanted to do, Kallen could follow, as long as his teammate didn’t expect him to speak.

A few minutes later, Levy was back, putting down a plate on the coffee table and lifting a bottle in the air in offer. “Beer?”

Kallen glanced down at the finger food with a frown, he wasn’t all that hungry, but Levy had just played a game. “Aren’t you going to eat more than this?”

“Oh, I just popped a lasagna in the oven,” he was told with an easy smile that seemed to fall off Levy’s lips too soon. “Kallen...” His throat worked as he swallowed. “Can I... Do you want to tell me what happened?”

His eyes shot up, shoulders tensing.

“You don’t have to!” Levy said at once. “You can, it’s what I’m saying. I’m here to listen, if you... Or I can get you a beer, or something stronger, and we can...” He glanced around. “Watch telly, play video games, whatever.”

Kallen tried to swallow past the lump in his throat, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t and— He shot to his feet, crossing the room and he couldn’t have said where he was going. Not until he was in Levy’s kitchen, and he couldn’t have gone anywhere else. They’d shared some whiskey once, so he knew where the bottles were hidden. He yanked the cupboard open and fumbled for the first one there, a transparent liquid. It might have been expensive, but it burned just like any other hard alcohol when he opened it and took a swig. That he could swallow, like his body knew what he needed.

He stood there, breathing again, jaded tired exhales, desperate inhales. But he was breathing. He brought the bottle to his lips again, got down one shot and then another.

Half of him wanted to keep going, to finish the whole thing, and then throw up everything inside him, like that could get it out—the pain and the fury both. But he hadn’t made it to the big leagues by giving into his impulses. He carefully placed the bottle on the counter, recapping it. It wasn’t until he turned to the fridge that a wave of dizziness hit him, and he had to catch himself on the counter. “Fuck ,” he muttered, annoyed. But at least his voice didn’t come out scraped raw this time.

“Kallen?” Levy was standing at the threshold, his eyes soft and worried, and part of Kallen wanted to scream at him. Because what the fuck did Levy know ? Kallen had taken it, hadn’t he? He’d taken it and he was alive , and he didn’t need anyone feeling sorry for him for it.

Except that no one else was, so when he opened his mouth, what came out was, “Vandy. It was Vandy.”

Levy let the silence stand for a long moment before he asked, “Vandy hurt you?”

And Kallen nodded, eyes on the ground. He wasn’t angry anymore, like he’d lost the rage somewhere. Maybe he’d swallowed it and that’s why his stomach was twisting now. It was only when he blinked that he realised his eyes had filled with tears.

Levy must have seen it too because he was closer now, touching Kallen’s bare arm with another soft “Hey.”

“I couldn’t—” He tried to explain, because if he’d just done what Vandy had wanted, if he’d just been a good omega and given his alpha what he’d asked for... “I wanted to,” he choked out. “I wanted to do it, but I’d just come and—”

“Shh,” Levy said. “Come here.” And with that he found himself enveloped in Levy’s strong arms, held close and firm against the steadiness of him. He tensed up, knowing he shouldn’t, that if he let go here, if he trusted someone else to hold him, it would only be worse when they let him go crashing down later. “Just for a minute,” Levy whispered in his ear. “Just take a minute and we’ll talk.”

And like it’d been an order, Kallen felt his muscles unlocking, his body growing heavier. Levy took his weight, one of his hands rubbing at his upper back, his cheek pressed to Kallen’s right ear.

It was probably longer than a minute, but neither of them was counting. The only movement was Levy’s hand on his back, the only sound their breathing, synchronised now because their chests were pressed close together. Kallen was getting a little sleepy now, likely the alcohol hitting his system—he’d skipped lunch, he suddenly remembered—and of course the warmth of another body against his. Someone who felt safe, even if Kallen knew better than to believe he was.

He pulled back slowly. He had to or he wouldn’t have been able to at all.

Levy gave him a little squeeze on both arms before letting go.

“How much did you drink?”

Kallen half turned his head towards the bottle. “Three shots? I drank them straight from the bottle. Um, sorry?”

“It’s fine,” his host told him. “Tequila burns any cooties you might have left on it.”

“Cooties?” Kallen asked, a little amused despite himself and caught Levy licking his lips, triggering a flash of memory he couldn’t quite reach.

But the alpha was already turning away, going to the oven and peering inside. “Sure, cooties, that’s what my little sister calls what you get from kissing people. Or holding their hands, really,” he added, flashing a weak smile Kallen’s way.

Had they kissed? He wondered suddenly, breaking their gaze to go put the bottle away.

“Just bring it,” Levy told him. “The food’s ready, but we can drink a little more later.”

HE’D THOUGHT THAT MOMENT had been it, and they’d just eat together, maybe put something on the telly. It would have been enough, to have someone who knew he was hurting and wanted to make it better.

But once they were done with the lasagna, Levy cleared his throat and reached for the tequila. “Okay, then.” He poured two fingers into each of the glasses Kallen had brought full of water. They were too large for alcohol, but when he saw the determination on Levy’s eyes, he realised it was too late to worry about logistics. “I’m listening.”

Kallen’s eyes fell to the glass, and he was throwing it back before he knew it. Levy let him empty his own too, but stopped him with a firm hand on his wrist when he reached for the bottle, shaking his head. “Gotta get it out,” he told Kallen.

When he tugged, he was allowed to pull his hand back so he could cross his arms and rock a little as he waited for the tequila to hit his bloodstream. It didn’t take that long, even if it wasn’t such a head rush now that he’d eaten. “He wanted me to come untouched.” The words were flat, clinical, like he was watching himself talk instead of remembering. “Even after I had already come, he kept going and going. I... I didn’t know anyone could go for that long. And then one of the twins told him to stop, and he did, he... he didn’t even finish.” He shrugged a little. “I was hurting, and they... they took care of me. And then—” He cut himself off, stomach rebelling. He couldn’t say this shit, not when the Groddys had been so good to him, he didn’t—

Levy lifted the bottle and poured him another finger, snapping his attention to the glass. But for a long moment, he couldn’t reach for it, because if he did... He lifted it slowly and had a tiny sip and then another and another, until it was all gone. He kept his eyes closed throughout, feeling the burn and nothing else. “They left,” his voice was too low, maybe Levy wouldn’t have heard. “They left me alone and I woke up and the doctor told me how to... How to take care of it. That’s... He hasn’t even looked at me. Like I...”

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” Levy’s voice was low and rumbling, full of barely repressed power. Like if he lost control, it’d spill over and burn the world down.

And Kallen must have been insane because he looked him right in the eye. “Yeah? So why am I here?”

Levy’s hand on his wrist shocked him enough to try and pull away, but the alpha didn’t let go this time, eyes flaring. “Because that arsehole hurt you,” he hissed. “Even though it’s his fucking job to protect you .”

Kallen shook his head, not quite in denial. It was true, he knew it was true. He’d wanted someone to say it, the doctor or the Groddys or... But what the fuck was he supposed to do if it was true? They weren’t going to do anything about Vandy, that was clear. They expected him to take the beating in the heat room like he’d take it on the ice, no complaints, and once again that was the price he had to pay. The price he’d agreed to pay. For hockey. He hadn’t agreed to Vandy hurting him, he knew that, and he hadn’t deserved it because coming untouched was difficult in the best of circumstances and he’d tried his best and still failed. But he’d agreed to letting Vandy fuck him, or letting whoever Management wanted to fuck him when he went into heat, and if he complained they’d think he was going back on his agreement, making a fuss, being weak . Exactly what they expected from an omega.

“ I can’t ,” he told Levy, glaring weakly. “You don’t get it. I can’t just—”

“You can ,” Levy cut him off, implacable. “You can... You can say it. Say it to me.”

And that caught Kallen by surprise. He’d thought Levy wanted him to complain to Management, or... He wasn’t sure. He licked his lips, frowning at the taste of the tequila still lingering. “I didn’t...”

I didn’t do anything wrong , he thought, but he couldn’t get the words out. It was true, he knew that, he felt it down to his gut . But the words wouldn’t come out. He tugged at his wrist and finally Levy let him go.

“Kallen...” He’d gone soft now, but it was too late.

Kallen shook his head at him. “Thanks...” He waved at the table, the food, the drinks, everything that he’d done to try to help. And Levy did him one last favour and stayed where he was as Kallen circled the table and headed for the door.

“YOU SEE WHAT I MEAN , right?” Katherine, also known as Catwoman for her fanatical devotion to the team, was looking at him expectantly from across the conference room table where she had waylaid him after practice. She was only a little older than him, maybe twenty-five, but she was so perfectly put together with her brown curls and lightly made-up green eyes that she seemed older.

And Kallen saw what she meant all right, she wanted him to make Vandy feel like he was still part of the team, like what he’d done hadn’t destroyed all of Kallen’s faith in him. “You want me to lie.”

“No!” she said once, eyes widening. As an outsider, it was hard to tell if the kittens really believed all the hype. They were the kids of the previous generation of alpha players, both by their own partners and by the team omega, and naturally not even the best genetic material and training would produce players good enough for the Premier League every time, so there were a lot of them in the White Cats management, guiding the team true. Or so they said. “Kallen,” Cat told him earnestly. “I want you to forgive him. It was a mistake, and we all make those, but alphas... They are too proud to handle it well, that’s why the team needs you. Why Jeff needs you.” Like using Vandy’s first name would make Kallen pity him or something.

“He hasn’t... He is not speaking to me, he didn’t even say sorry,” he bit out and it came out too raw. He felt so stupid, that he’d somehow expected Vandy to come to him and apologise, to try to make it better, to somehow... He wasn’t sure because the alpha hadn’t even tried .

Her hand on his made him tense up. He didn’t pull away, which would have been quite rude, but he could only stare at her. She was still putting on those soft airs. “Look, just give him an opening, that’s all we are asking. Let him see you would be receptive to an apology, and he’ll go for it. You know you are the heart of this team, Kallen.”

HE’D WALKED OUT OF the stadium in a daze, Johnson had caught him and herded him into the minivan the guys always made fun of. And then they’d got home, and the kids had been running around and Kallen had stopped cold in the doorway. “I... I gotta...” He’d pointed backwards, dropping his bag by the entrance and turning around for the lift.

It hadn’t been a conscious decision to go up to the seventh floor, but when he’d buzzed, Levy had opened the door at once and his face had gone bright and happy. “Hey,” he’d greeted Kallen. “Come in!”

Letting Levy cook for him was becoming a habit. But really, if he’d stayed at the Johnsons’, he would still have someone cooking for him. Only today of all days he didn’t feel like he deserved it. He knew what he had to do, for his job. And he could guess what Levy would have to say about it.

They hadn’t really spoken since Kallen had left Levy’s flat two days ago, not off the ice anyway, but somehow, he’d come right back today.

“Kallen?” The alpha’s voice was gentle. “You look— I don’t want to pry, and I— I’m sorry I got so angry the other day. I’ll keep my mouth shut.”

Kallen shook his head. “You were trying to help,” he told the carpet between their feet. Levy had led him to the sofa and Kallen had gone there without thinking. He couldn’t think or he couldn’t stop thinking about what Management wanted him to do, really, so everything else became blurry and unreal.

“Well, yeah,” Levy said. “But I’d like to actually help instead of just trying to, you know?”

“I’m—” He cut himself off. Scared. But that was too much, he didn’t have any reason to be scared, he’d been asked to do something for work and there was nothing dangerous about it, was there? Just talking to Vandy— “Angry,” he got out, and it was true too.

“Yeah?” Levy asked, and he was holding himself so still, Kallen’s eyes were drawn to him. There was tension all over his body, from his curled-up toes to his stiff shoulders, except on his face, his face was open, his brown eyes clear.

He nodded. “They— They want me to fix it. With... With Vandy.”

Levy didn’t respond for a long moment, and when Kallen looked again, he’d dropped his own gaze. It should have been weird on an alpha, but Levy just looked like he was thinking hard. “How do you mean?”

“I’m not sure, just, like, let him know I’ll forgive him if he apologises. That’s... Catwoman said his pride couldn’t take it if he asked and I didn’t.”

Levy snorted. But then he shook his head and met Kallen’s eyes once more. “Do you wanna do it?”

“No!” The word was out faster than he could think, sharp and indignant, and his shoulders were already stiffening with guilt. “But... But he’s my alpha, and the team...” He glanced away; his face was burning.

“If he’s your alpha, then you are his omega,” Levy pointed out, and Kallen looked up to give him a confused look. His friend wasn’t looking at him, though, choosing each word like he was disassembling a mine. “So that means he owes you protection and care and respect. He— He got called out on it and he acknowledged he was out of line. So he knows. And if he knows, then he has got to choose to do better.”

The words were like a blow. Kallen brought his hands to cover his face, hunching over. That’s what Katherine wanted, wasn’t it? For him to lead Vandy to the righteous path, with compassion and understanding Kallen just didn’t have, and didn’t know how to get. If he had to see the alpha in more than passing in the changing room, he was afraid he’d sock him one.

He’d never hit an alpha before, even on the ice he had never been in a fight, letting his team do that for him like he was expected to.

“I’ll talk to him,” Levy said, and these words came fast and eager. “You shouldn’t have to, and I don’t mind.”

For a moment, the relief rushed through him like air after a long swim. And then, of course, he realised it was impossible. “You can’t do that. If his pride can’t take apologising on his own, how is he gonna take you telling him to do it?”

His friend growled across from him, and Kallen straightened, staring at him wide-eyed. “Oh, fuck,” Levy sighed. “I’m just frustrated, I’m not angry at you.”

Kallen relaxed, nodding. It’d startled him for a moment, but now that he was paying attention, he could sense that Levy was actually feeling protective of him—precisely the reason he’d shown up here in the first place. Because this young alpha, only a year older than him, somehow made him feel safe.

But it was just a feeling, Levy wasn’t really his alpha and he couldn’t protect Kallen from the world like he wanted to be protected. He could listen, though, and he could keep him company, share this frustration with him when no one else would. “Thanks,” he said.

“What for?” Levy demanded, frowning at him.

Kallen shrugged. “Just... listening. It’s my mess, and I... I’ll fix it,” he looked down as he said it, swallowing past the bitterness of it. He’d told Levy the truth, he didn’t want to do it, but he didn’t see a way around it, and it had to get fixed somehow. For the team. “But, like, you get it, why I’m angry...”

“Of course I get it, anyone would get it.”

Kallen gave him a pointed look. “Don’t see anyone else here.”

“That’s... We could talk to the captain?” he offered, but it was clear he knew he was just saying it.

“We can have dinner,” Kallen offered, a gentle let down. “Let me order something today so I can beat you at Speedaholic while we wait.”

IN THE END, IT WASN’T that difficult. He’d cheated to do it, telling himself it would be fine to drink just this once, and sneaked in a flask full of the whiskey from Levy’s cupboard. It was after practice, and he’d hit the showers as soon as they’d walked in just to have a moment to compose himself—and empty half the bottle down his throat. He hadn’t quite counted on the added effect of the hot vapour, so when he came out, he was a little dizzy, half his mind elsewhere. He’d planned it carefully, wrapping the towel around his hips and dropping the bottle on top of his dirty clothes as he passed by. Being half dressed right then and there was almost unbearable even in his numbed state, but that too was intentional—he wanted to look as vulnerable as possible. There wasn’t much an omega could do to get an alpha to do what he wanted besides beg, but looking small helped, it activated something in alphas’ brains that made them want to protect you.

Except for when it made them want to hurt you more.

He shoved the thought away and headed towards where Vandy always sat. It was a strange move, and he felt the room rippling around him, his teammates’ gazes following him, a few whispers he couldn’t parse.

“Vandy?” he said and his voice shook with it. He gritted his teeth, feeling his face burn, his shoulders lock. He wanted— He wanted to shake him, to demand what he was owed, to hurt him. To hurt him back. But that wasn’t what the team needed, so he stood there, facing the man who’d brutalised him, as humiliated as if he’d been on his knees for him again.

The goalie was looking at him like he was a ghost, lips parted but no words coming. Like he was scared of Kallen.

And then Vandy got elbowed on the side, hard enough to force him to put his opposite palm down on the bench. He was shocked enough to turn his head towards the alpha to his left. It was Matt and he was glaring.

Vandy dropped his own gaze, swallowing, and then, so low it was only audible because the whole room had gone quiet, he mumbled. “Sorry. I’m sorry.”

Kallen stared at him, waiting to feel something like the relief he’d expected. He’d thought... He wasn’t sure what he’d thought, really. But this wasn’t it. He wasn’t angry anymore, he was empty. He knew what he should say now, that he had to acknowledge the apology and smooth things over like nothing had happened.

Instead, he opened his mouth and gave a warning, rough and demanding, and if he hadn’t known it was impossible, he could have sworn it was full of willpower, “Don’t fuck up again.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he caught Vandy straightening, but he was already turning away, heading back towards his own locker.

He wanted another shower, but he could wait until he got home for it.