Ice Alpha's Sick Obsession

[POV: JAXSON]

"Get in the car, Remi. Now."

My voice was a jagged edge of ice, cutting through the heavy, humid air of the parking garage. My pulse was a frantic hammer against the base of my throat, each beat sending a fresh wave of adrenaline-fueled fire through my veins. The scent of her—lilies, ozone, and that lingering, traitorous sea salt from the party—was an assault on my sanity.

"I'm not going anywhere with you," she snapped, her voice trembling but sharp.

I didn't answer. I reached out, my fingers wrapping around her upper arm. Her skin was scorching hot against my palm, a direct wire to the bond that was currently trying to rip my chest open. I dragged her toward the SUV, the heels of her shoes clicking a frantic, uneven rhythm against the concrete.

"You're hurting me!" she cried out.

I ignored the way my heart lurched at her pain. I ignored the way my wolf was howling in the back of my skull, demanding I soothe the very bruise I was creating. I was the Alpha. I was the MVP. And I was losing control of everything I owned.

I threw the door open and shoved her into the passenger seat. The leather groaned under her weight. I slammed the door, the sound echoing like a gunshot through the empty garage. By the time I slid behind the wheel, my vision was blurring at the edges, turning a dangerous, predatory amber.

"Where are we going?" she demanded, her back pressed hard against the door, her fingers digging into the upholstery.

"To work," I growled.

The drive to the arena was a blur of neon lights and screeching tires. I drove with a reckless, animalistic speed that matched the chaos in my blood. Beside me, Remi was a statue of terror. I could smell the cold sweat breaking out on her forehead, the way her breath came in short, shallow hitches that made my ears ring.

We arrived at the back entrance of the stadium. The massive structure loomed over us like a silent, concrete beast. I used my keycard, the light flashing green with a soft, mocking beep.

"Out," I commanded.

"It's midnight, Jaxson. The lights are off. What are we doing here?"

"I said out!"

I grabbed her again, leading her through the dark, echoing tunnels. The smell of stale popcorn and old ice rose up to meet us. It was my cathedral, my sanctuary, and tonight, it would be her cage.

I pushed through the heavy doors leading to the rink. The air was a sudden, violent drop in temperature, hitting my face like a slap. The ice stretched out before us, a vast, shimmering mirror of white.

"Sit," I said, pointing to the player's bench.

"Jaxson, you're acting crazy. Talk to me." Her voice was small, swallowed by the immense silence of the empty arena. Her eyes were wide, the pupils dilated until the gold was almost gone.

"Sit down, Remi. Don't move. Don't speak. Just watch."

I didn't wait for her response. I vaulted over the boards, my skates hitting the ice with a sharp, echoing clack. I didn't bother with a helmet. I didn't bother with pads. I grabbed a stick and a bucket of pucks, my movements fluid and lethal.

I began to skate.

[POV: REMI]

"Jaxson, stop this!" I screamed, but the sound just bounced off the thousands of empty seats, returning to me as a ghostly mockery.

I sat on the wooden bench, my hands tucked between my knees to stop the shaking. The cold was a physical weight, seeping through the thin silk of my dress until my bones felt like they were made of glass. My heart was a trapped bird, slamming against my ribs with every explosive stride he took on the ice.

He was a blur.

He wasn't skating like a professional; he was skating like a demon. The sound of his blades carving into the ice was a series of violent, rhythmic stabs. Rrip. Rrip. Rrip. The ice was flying up in white clouds behind him, shimmering like diamonds in the dim emergency lights.

He took a puck, and with a flick of his wrists that looked more like an act of war than a sport, he sent it screaming toward the goal.

Clang!

The sound of the puck hitting the metal post was a thunderclap. I jumped, my breath hitching in a throat that felt like it was filled with needles.

He didn't stop. He looped back, his face a mask of pure, unadulterated rage. Sweat was pouring down his temples, flying off his chin as he pivoted. I could smell it even from here—that thick, metallic tang of an Alpha pushed to the brink. It mixed with the scent of the cold ice, creating an atmosphere so heavy I could barely draw air into my lungs.

He grabbed another puck. This time, he didn't aim for the net.

He turned toward me.

My eyes widened. My blood turned to slush in my veins. He drew his stick back, his muscles coiling like a serpent about to strike.

Thwack!

The puck was a black streak of death. It hit the safety glass directly in front of my face with a force that made the entire barrier vibrate.

I shrieked, flinching back, my hands flying up to cover my eyes. The glass didn't break, but the sound—a high-pitched, ringing crack—echoed inside my skull until I thought my ears would bleed.

"Is that enough, Remi?" he roared from the center of the ice. He was heaving, his chest rising and falling with a violent rhythm. "Is that the excitement you wanted at the party? Is that what you were looking for with Leo?"

"You're insane!" I shouted back, my voice cracking. I stood up, my legs feeling like water. "You're trying to kill me!"

"I'm trying to kill the part of me that wants you!"

He skated toward me, not slowing down. He looked like he was going to plow right through the boards and crush me. At the last possible second, he turned his skates sideways, sending a massive spray of ice shavings over the top of the glass.

The white frost coated my hair and shoulders. I stood there, shivering, the ice melting against my warm skin like a thousand tiny stings.

He leaned over the boards, his face inches from mine. The glass was the only thing between us, but it felt like it was melting from the heat radiating off him. His eyes weren't blue anymore. They were a glowing, molten gold that seemed to pierce right through my flesh to the mark on my neck.

"Do you have any idea what you're doing to me?" he hissed. His breath was hot, smelling of chocolate and iron. "The board is gone. My career is in the dirt. My 'sister' is a stranger who carries the scent of my rival."

"I didn't ask for any of this!" I grabbed the top of the boards, my knuckles white. "I didn't ask for the bond, and I didn't ask for the lies!"

"But you're here," he said, his voice dropping to a low, dangerous purr. "And you're not leaving."

[POV: JAXSON]

"Watch me," she said.

The defiance in her voice was a physical strike. It made my wolf snarl, a deep, guttural vibration that started in my diaphragm and filled the entire rink. She actually turned around. She began to walk away from the bench, her small shoulders set in a line of stubborn pride.

The silk of her dress clung to her hips, moving with a taunting rhythm that made my vision swim.

I didn't think. I vaulted over the glass, my skates clattering onto the rubber flooring of the walkway. I was on her in three strides.

I grabbed her waist and spun her around, pinning her back against the cold, hard glass of the rink. The impact made her gasp, the air leaving her lungs in a soft oomph.

"Let go of me, Jaxson!"

She tried to push me, her small hands landing on my chest. I was bare-chested under my open jersey, and the contact of her palms against my skin was like a lightning strike. My heart hammered against her hands, a frantic, rhythmic demand for her to stay.

"No," I growled.

I leaned in, my weight pressing her into the glass. I could feel the cold of the rink behind her and the heat of my body in front of her. She was trapped in the middle, a delicate thing caught between two glaciers.

I reached up, my hands slamming against the glass on either side of her head. The sound was a dull, heavy thud that echoed through the empty arena.

"You think you're going to that college?" I asked, my face inches from hers. "You think you're going to fly away and find some human life where I don't exist?"

"I have the right to a life!" she screamed. Her face was flushed, her eyes wet with tears that refused to fall. "I am not your property, Jaxson! You are not my brother, and you are not my king!"

"I am your mate!"

The word exploded between us, a truth we had both been trying to outrun. The silence that followed was absolute. The only sound was the hum of the cooling system and the frantic, synchronized thudding of our hearts.

I watched as her throat worked, a delicate swallow that drew my eyes to the mark on her neck. It was glowing. A faint, ethereal amber light was pulsing beneath her skin, mocking my attempt to ignore it.

"The bond doesn't care about your rights, Remi," I whispered, my voice breaking. "It doesn't care about my contract. It only cares that I am starving, and you are the only thing that can feed me."

I leaned down, my nose brushing the soft curve of her jaw. She smelled like heaven and a looming storm. My hands moved from the glass, my fingers tangling in her hair, forcing her to look up at me.

"You aren't leaving this city, Remi," I breathed against her lips. "Not until I'm finished with you."

"And when will that be?" she asked, her voice a ghost of a whisper.

"Never."

I lowered my head, my lips hovering just a fraction of an inch above hers. The electricity between us was a physical barrier, a wall of static that made the fine hairs on my arms stand on end. I wanted to crush her. I wanted to protect her. I wanted to tear the world apart just to hear her say my name.

She didn't pull away. She leaned in, her breath hitching, her fingers curling into the fabric of my jersey.

"Then finish it," she challenged, her voice a jagged shard of glass. "Do it now, or let me go."

I grew rigid. My wolf was screaming for me to claim her, to sink my teeth into that glowing mark and end this torment. But before I could move, a light flooded the arena.

The giant scoreboard above the ice flickered to life, its hum a sudden, artificial roar.

I looked up, my eyes squinting against the glare.

A message was scrolling across the screen in giant, blood-red letters.

THE TRUTH IS IN THE BLOOD, JAXSON. SHE ISN'T WHO YOU THINK SHE IS.

I felt Remi stiffen beneath me. I looked back at her, and the terror in her eyes was replaced by a look of absolute, soul-crushing realization.

"What is that?" I demanded, my grip on her shoulders tightening. "Remi, what does that mean?"

She didn't answer. She looked past me, toward the dark tunnel we had just come through.

A figure was standing there, silhouetted by the lights of the concourse. He was holding a file, and even from this distance, I could smell the scent of old paper and ancient, rotting earth.

"It means," Remi whispered, her voice trembling so hard I could barely hear her, "that the blood test didn't just say we aren't related, Jaxson. It said I'm not even human."

The man in the tunnel stepped forward, his face coming into the light. It was the same man from the party, but he wasn't wearing a suit anymore. He was wearing the crest of the High Council.

"She’s right, Jaxson," the man said, his voice echoing through the rafters. "She isn't your sister. She’s your prey. And if you don't hand her over now, the entire city will burn."