Maya

The air in the hallway was thick with the silent aftermath of his words. "She's with me."

It wasn't a question or an invitation. It was a statement of fact, a challenge. Kaelen's teammates, Marcus especially, just stared at him for a beat, a mix of disbelief and wary respect in their eyes. Then, as if a spell had been broken, Marcus cleared his throat and muttered something about grabbing a shower. The group of them shuffled past us, their boisterous laughter replaced by a low, awkward murmur. They glanced at me as they went, their eyes full of questions I had no answers for.

I stood frozen behind Kaelen's broad back. He was a mountain of a man, and he hadn't moved. The scent of him—sweat, ice, and something wild and earthy—was all-consuming. It was a strange mix of intimidating and intoxicating. My heart, which had just started to slow down, was now hammering a frantic rhythm against my ribs.

"Are you... okay?" Kaelen’s voice was softer this time, a deep rumble that seemed to vibrate through the floor. He turned to face me, and the intensity in his green eyes was back, but now it was layered with something else: a fierce, almost desperate concern.

I couldn't find my voice. I just nodded, clutching my half-empty bottle of glue. What just happened? Who is this guy? And why did he just growl at his friend because of me? My rational brain was screaming at me to run, but my feet felt rooted to the polished concrete floor. There was that strange, magnetic pull again, the same one I’d felt before, only stronger now. It was like a current running between us, impossible to ignore.

He must have read the confusion and fear on my face. His expression softened, and he ran a hand through his dark, wet hair again. "Marcus... he can be a lot. He didn't mean anything by it." The words were an attempt at an apology, but they didn't explain the growl, the territorial stance, or the command in his voice. They didn't explain the way his teammates had backed away, not from me, but from him.

"Right," I finally managed to say, my voice a whisper. "He just… came on a little strong, I guess."

Kaelen’s lips thinned into a tight line, and he looked down at the floor. He seemed to be fighting a battle with himself, and the air around him was crackling with a raw energy. "Look," he said, meeting my eyes again. "I'm sorry. That was inappropriate. I just... I don't know what came over me."

A flicker of doubt crossed my mind. Maybe I was overthinking it. Maybe this was just how hockey players acted, all alpha male and posturing. But a small, insistent voice in the back of my mind told me it was something else entirely. "It's fine," I lied. "I should probably get going. My dorm is on the other side of campus."

"I'll walk with you," he said instantly. Not a suggestion, but a declaration.

I wanted to say no. I wanted to escape, to get back to the safety of my dorm room and pretend this whole bizarre encounter never happened. But the small, trembling part of me that was intrigued by this strange, powerful man couldn’t resist. "Okay," I said, and the word felt like a surrender.

As we started walking, Kaelen's massive frame seemed to swallow the entire hallway. The easy rhythm of a conversation was gone, replaced by a charged silence. I found myself looking at him out of the corner of my eye. He had a few small scars on his knuckles, evidence of a life lived hard, and his jaw was set in a tight, determined line. The fierce, green eyes were no longer on me but were constantly scanning, as if expecting danger from every corner. He was a predator, I realized, and I felt like a little mouse who had somehow caught his attention. It was terrifying, and for some inexplicable reason, thrilling.

Kaelen

My wolf was furious. Marcus, a friend since childhood, had approached my mate with a smile and an easy charm, and the beast had wanted to tear his throat out. I had to restrain my instincts with everything I had, a struggle that left my muscles trembling and a dull ache behind my eyes. She is ours, the wolf snarled in my head, a constant, possessive refrain. Protect what is ours.

I was walking beside her now, the scent of frost and jasmine filling my senses, a heady perfume that made my head spin. I had to fight the urge to reach for her, to pull her close, to bury my face in her hair. She was so small, so fragile. So human. That last part was a truth that was both a blessing and a curse.

I couldn't just tell her. Hi, I'm Kaelen. I'm a werewolf, and you're my mate. By the way, I just growled at my friend because you're mine. It was insane. It was a rejection waiting to happen. The pack laws were clear: mates must be cherished, protected, and brought into the fold. But a human mate? A freshman who didn't even know what a werewolf was? This was unprecedented. My father would have my head.

"So, the Art and Design Club," I said, trying to force a normal, human conversation. "Are there a lot of people in it?"

She looked at me, a flicker of surprise in her eyes. It was a simple question, but it seemed to throw her off. "Uh, yeah. We have a lot of new members this semester. We're planning an exhibit at the end of the year."

I nodded, trying to look interested, but all I could focus on was the way the late afternoon sunlight caught the fiery strands of her hair. My wolf was purring, a low rumble of contentment. Just being near her was enough.

We reached the central quad, the heart of campus, now bustling with students. The noise was a welcome distraction, a way to drown out the voice in my head. I walked her past the library and toward the freshman dorms. Every passing student was a potential threat, and my senses were on high alert. I saw an upperclassman with a fraternity jacket give her a long look, and my fists clenched. I had to keep a handle on myself. I could not, would not, start a fight in the middle of campus over a possessive instinct.

"That’s my dorm," she said, stopping in front of the brick building that housed all the first-year students. "Thanks for... walking with me."

Her voice was full of a hesitant uncertainty. She was still scared of me, and that was the hardest thing to swallow. My wolf wanted to make her feel safe, to make her understand that I would never, ever hurt her. But my human mind knew that my actions had done the opposite.

I swallowed, the words catching in my throat. "It was... no problem." I wanted to ask her for her number. I wanted to ask her if I could see her again. But the words were stuck. What did you say to your human mate? What was the right way to act?

She gave me a small, nervous smile, and then, without another word, she turned and disappeared into the dorm. I stood there for a long time, the scent of frost and jasmine now fading, the emptiness where she once stood a physical ache in my chest.

My wolf whined, a low, mournful sound. I had let her go. I hadn't made my claim. The campus was full of wolves who would be able to smell her, to sense the newness of her scent, to know she was unclaimed.

I turned around and headed back toward the rink, the low hum of the mate bond now a sharp, painful sting. I had to find a way to get close to her again. I had to make her understand. I had to make her mine.