Chapter 18
H is skin was still stinging from the shower by the time he got home the next morning. It was pretty early, and he’d half expected Levy to be at practice, so when the door got yanked open in front of him before he could find his key, he nearly jumped out of his skin.
“Hey,” Levy’s eyes were scanning him unashamedly. “You okay? I mean—” He bit his lip. “I was a bit worried,” he admitted after a moment, glancing off to the side.
Kallen was dazed enough still that his friend recovered first, stepping out of the doorway. “Come in, I’ll put on some coffee, you look like you could use it.”
He hadn’t actually had breakfast. Or water except for the one that he’d drunk straight from the tap when he’d brushed his teeth. It hadn’t crossed his mind at all. The only thing he’d been able to think about had been getting clean. “You got any food?” he asked, following Levy into the kitchen.
His friend looked up from where he was measuring grounds and snorted. “First words to live by,” he said. “Check the fridge, I prepped veg for omelettes.”
And just like that Kallen was falling into their usual rhythm, grating cheese and cracking eggs while Levy set a frying pan on the hob for him. They didn’t need to talk, but he was also forced to concentrate enough that he could tell his body it wasn’t the time to think about the way his jaw ached, or how he was a little colder than he should have been in the kitchen of all places.
It was fine. He was fine. He was just hungry.
PRACTICE TURNED OUT to be in the afternoon that day, which Kallen supposed he must have known.
He probably should have known what he’d done that morning, too, but by the time they had to grab their bags and make it to the car, he couldn’t have said. Levy took the keys from his hand.
“You look tired,” his friend said, and Kallen nodded and got in the passenger seat of his own car without a word.
He was tired, that was probably why he didn’t hear Levy the first time he spoke and had to shake himself to come back down enough to notice they’d got to the arena.
“Kallen...” His friend was reaching for him but stopped mid-motion. “I... You could skip,” he suggested. “Like, it’s only practice, and you have a good reason, no one will even—”
“No!” The word came from between his gritted teeth, too sharp by half, and he had to swallow and exhale slowly, forcing his shoulders down. “No, I... I’m fine. I can do this.”
Of course he could, he’d done it before, and he’d do it again. If he’d been the kind of person to let his omega issues affect his job, he wouldn’t have been in the Premier League in the first place. He’d have washed out like everyone else who couldn’t hack it.
So, he knew he could open the door and stumble out, and that if he kept walking in a straight line for the changing room, he’d get there and put on his gear. He wouldn’t look around at any of the alphas surrounding him, and he’d try his best to keep his nose closed to their scents, just so his body wouldn’t get alarmed for no reason.
There was nothing wrong, no danger. He was just sensitive, the time after heat wasn’t as bad as the time during or right before but the body was still a little tender. He’d get on the ice and he’d find the flow, and after a little while, the speed of passes and the demands of drills would drown out everything else.
And he’d be fine.
He just had to be strong enough to take that first step.
LEVY WASN’T AS EASY to ignore as the other alphas. He’d pushed everything soft and scared as deep as he could manage, but his friend tugged at it, like a comforting bed calling to him when he was exhausted.
A temptation he couldn’t give into but couldn’t forget.
Maybe that was why the ice wasn’t quite doing the trick for him today. He did everything that always worked; listened to Coach’s instructions and didn’t take breaks even when his muscles screamed at him, knowing that beyond the pain was the only real relief.
But he couldn’t stop Levy from skating up to him and proffering a bottle of water. He nodded a thanks and drank, because it was the path of least resistance to get right back to where he needed to be. Levy went away, because this was his job too, but he kept coming back, circling closer and trying to talk .
Kallen half wanted to scream at him, but anger was as far from his goal as any other display of emotion. He needed the numbness of the ice too much to risk it.
No one could stop him from playing.
No one.
“Guin!”
His shot went too wide, he heard someone cursing him out. He didn’t know who. He couldn’t look up or to the side. He couldn’t move at all. McKinley was standing in front of him and Kallen’s throat was closing up and his hands were clutching so hard at his stick they ached, but he couldn’t let go.
“You keep messing up your shots,” his captain was saying, or he thought so, because the whole world was growing hazy and unreal. “Firm up your wrists.”
And with that, he’d just gone. For a moment, Kallen had just panted in air; his lungs screaming as he was suddenly able to provide them with oxygen once more. Then he turned and went to the bench.
He needed to drink, that was all.
IT HADN’T BEEN HIS best playing, but other than that wide shot, he thought he’d done pretty well. Nothing to be embarrassed about, anyway.
He’d earned some rest, and he wanted to go home. But Levy was still in the shower for some reason, and he... Well, he could have waited in the changing room, but he could also wait in the car.
The keys were still in Levy’s bag, but it wasn’t like it was cold, he didn’t mind leaning on the hood for a few minutes, getting a bit of fresh air.
“Kallen!” his friend called out from halfway across the parking lot, he was jogging over. “I thought... I thought you’d left,” he said once he reached the car.
“You have my keys,” Kallen pointed out.
“Oh,” Levy’s eyes were all over him. “Okay, I forgot.”
Kallen shrugged and they got in the car.
“You okay?” Levy asked.
“Yeah.” It was all fine, he had practised and now he could sleep. He’d earned it.
LOSING HIS SCORING strike three days later wasn’t a punishment, just bad luck and bad playing. But it felt like one. Like any time his omega needs came up, they fucked up his whole life, and this time Kallen hadn’t been good enough to make up the difference.
It wasn’t like he didn’t know the deal. Or like he hadn’t known he hadn’t been playing his best lately. He should have stayed on the ice longer, asked the trainers for help and done the work.
Instead, he’d gone home to fucking sleep .
Of course he couldn’t score.
So when the Ice Cap asked him to stay behind, it felt almost fitting. Coach hadn’t said anything to him, though Kallen’s pucks had missed the goal three times in the final period alone.
McKinley clearly wasn’t going to be so lenient.
Levy had lingered, telling Kallen he’d wait for him in the car, but had scrambled when the captain had glared at him.
“You have disappointed me,” McKinley told him, every word like a stab. He was towering over Kallen where he sat on the bench.
Kallen kept his gaze lowered and his shoulders tense, not making a sound. He could feel the alpha’s anger like lightning about to strike, his overpowering scent metallic and sour in the air. The last thing he wanted was to piss him off even more. No, he’d take whatever he was told and be grateful for the feedback. He knew he deserved it.
He’d disappointed himself most of all, and whatever McKinley told him, it couldn’t be worse than the thoughts already circling through his mind.
The hand on his chin, roughly pulling his head up, shocked him into looking up for a flash before he remembered himself. “Do you understand, Guin? You let this team down.”
“Yes,” Kallen gasped, nodding against the fingers digging into his tense throat. “I’m—” The sound got cut out as McKinley shoved the bottom of his hand against his jaw, forcing it abruptly shut, his own teeth grazing the tip of his tongue. He scrunched his eyes shut, swallowing the bitter taste of blood. That was obviously a mistake because he got shaken again. “ Look at me .” The pull of will felt like getting his insides dragged out and even as he obeyed, Kallen jerked in place, body beyond his conscious control.
McKinley’s blue eyes were cold, ruthless. “Keep your mouth shut and listen very carefully, omega.” Kallen focused his gaze on the alpha’s cheek, close enough to fulfil the order. “You are here only as long as you are helping us win. The moment that stops? It’ll be time for breeding your arse out as often as we can. So if you wanna play, you better show up tomorrow and show you can , or I’ll be talking to Management.” Kallen clenched his teeth, pressing his sore tongue up to keep from speaking, or worse, whimpering. Showing fear to an alpha this incensed could only end in tears. “Now open,” McKinley said, and for a moment Kallen didn’t understand. Then a thumb pushed against the corner of his mouth. His lips parted mostly to avoid the pressure, and then McKinley had two fingers past his teeth and he heard the sound of a zip.
The rest was a bit of a blur, getting his mouth forced open fully by both hands. The order, quiet and furious, to put his own hands down and keep them there. And then the cock pushing against lips, full and leaking and making him gag, the hand squeezing his throat only making it worse. Realising he couldn’t breathe through his mouth and inhaling sharply through his nose instead, the alpha scent thick and cloying. Swallowing around the length of it on pure instinct as he got his face fucked in rough shoves, the painful stretch on the corners of his mouth, the tightening fingers choking him a little at intervals. His eyes falling shut in desperation as McKinley sped up, pulling at his hair and angling him how he wanted while Kallen clung to the bench, not even trying to raise his hands as his captain used him for the only thing he was good for.