Chapter 3 : His Gaze.

Mazikeen pov:

The cold bathroom tiles dug into my knees. I pressed the cheap burner phone hard against my ear, praying someone would answer. The dial tone mocked me for three long rings before a sharp voice answered.

"What do you want, Jace?" Aunt Sarah snapped. Her tone was dripping with pure venom.

"It is me," I whispered. I kept my voice incredibly low so the guys in the hallway wouldn't hear. "How is Mom? Did she take her meds today?"

"Your mother is a burden," Sarah spat out. "She coughed up blood all morning and ruined my good towels. You Thornes are nothing but parasites. If you don't send the clinic money by Friday, I am throwing her out into the streets."

The line went dead.

I let out a deep sigh, dropping my forehead against the stall door. My chest violently ached against the tight compression binder. I was doing all of this for my mom, putting my entire life on the line every single second, and she was still treated like dirt by our own blood. I wiped a stray tear from my cheek and shoved the phone into my pocket. I had to survive tonight.

I stepped out of the bathroom and bumped right into a solid wall of muscle.

Atlas grabbed the collar of my jersey. His knuckles brushed against my collarbone, sending a jolt of terror straight through me.

"Did you think you could hide in the bathroom all night?" he growled. His breath was hot and smelled like peppermint and pure rage. "It is midnight, Thorne. Time for your physical."

"I am not going." My voice shook terribly.

"You don't have a choice." Atlas dragged me down the hallway.

"I am going to enjoy watching the doctor declare you unfit. You are going to be stripped of that jersey by morning."

The academy clinic smelled like bleach and sterile needles. The pack doctor looked up from his clipboard. He had cold, unfeeling eyes that made my stomach churn.

"Vanderbilt," the doctor nodded at Atlas. "Is this the recruit?"

"Yes," Atlas sneered. He shoved me forward. "Check his ribs. Check his blood. Find out why he plays like a frightened little girl."

The doctor pointed to the exam table. "Shirt off, Thorne. Let us take a look."

My blood froze in my veins. I stood completely still. If I took off the jersey, they would see the binder. They would know everything. The penalty for lying to an Alpha was death.

"Take it off," Atlas ordered. He crossed his arms over his massive chest. His dark tattoos shifted under the harsh fluorescent lights. "Stop wasting my time, runt."

My fingers hovered over the hem of my shirt. I closed my eyes. This was the end. I had failed.

The clinic door suddenly burst open.

"Atlas!"

We all turned around. Eros stood in the doorway. He was out of breath, his blonde hair messy and falling into his eyes. He looked incredibly handsome, a sharp and bright contrast to the dark, suffocating energy Atlas brought into the room.

"What is it, Eros?" Atlas snapped. He looked absolutely furious at the interruption.

"The rival team from Eastbridge," Eros said quickly, looking dead serious. "They just broke into our locker room. They are smashing the hockey sticks and tearing up the ice. Coach wants you down there right now to handle it."

Atlas cursed loudly. He looked at me, his icy blue eyes full of heavy suspicion. "You got lucky tonight. This physical is happening tomorrow. Count on it."

Atlas stormed out of the clinic.

I let out a huge breath, my knees almost giving out completely. I grabbed the edge of the exam table to keep from collapsing.

Eros stayed behind for a second. He looked at me and offered a soft, gentle smile. "Get out of here, Jace. Go back to the dorm before he realizes the gear was already being replaced anyway."

"Thank you," I whispered. My heart did a weird flutter. Eros was actually nice. He was a predator just like the rest of them, but tonight, he was different. I felt drawn to that warm smile.

I went straight back to the dorm room and locked the door tight. Hours passed in pure silence. It was three in the morning when the lock finally clicked open.

Atlas stumbled inside. He looked completely different.

His skin was flushed a deep, angry red. Sweat dripped down his neck and soaked his shirt. He leaned heavily against the doorframe, his breathing ragged and wildly uneven. The room instantly filled with the heavy, intoxicating scent of burnt cedar and dark spices. It was so strong it made my head spin.

He was in rut.

"Atlas?" I asked softly from my narrow cot.

"Shut up," he snarled. His voice was much deeper than usual, almost demonic. "Don't look at me. Look away from me right now."

He tore his shirt off, throwing it to the floor. His broad chest heaved up and down. He looked like a wild beast fighting a cage.

"Are you okay?" I asked. I couldn't help it. He was being so cruel to me, but his fever looked terrifying. He was trembling violently.

"I told you to shut your mouth!" he roared. He slammed his huge fist right into the wall. The plaster cracked under his knuckles. "You disgust me. You are weak and pathetic. Stay on your side of the room before I break your neck."

He collapsed onto his bed, groaning in pure agony. The heat radiating from his body was reaching my side of the room.

I bit my lip hard. If his fever got any higher, it could trigger a fatal wolf seizure. I hated him. I truly did. He was a bully and a tyrant. But I couldn't just sit here and let him die in the dark.

I grabbed the plastic pitcher of cold water from the mini fridge. I poured a glass and slowly, carefully walked over to his bed.

"Atlas," I whispered gently. "Just drink this. It will help cool you down."

"I said get away!"

He lashed out blindly. His large hand hit the glass, sending it shattering into pieces all over the floor. Before I could even step back, his hands grabbed my waist.

I gasped loudly.

He pulled me down hard. We tumbled right onto his mattress. I landed flat on my back, and within a split second, his massive, scorching hot body was hovering directly over me. He pinned both of my wrists above my head with just one of his hands.

My heart hammered violently against my ribs. We were pressed together from chest to knee. I could feel every single hard line of his body. The intense heat of his skin was burning right through my clothes.

Atlas buried his face deep into the crook of my neck. He inhaled sharply. His hot breath sent a massive shiver straight down my spine.

"Vanilla," he groaned against my bare skin. His voice was thick with lust and heavy confusion. "Why do you smell so damn sweet?"

"Let me go," I pleaded. My voice was a tiny, breathless whisper. I was absolutely terrified, but my traitorous body was reacting to his touch in ways I couldn't control.

Atlas slowly lifted his head. His icy blue eyes were completely black with raw desire. He traced his rough thumb over my bottom lip, his gaze dropping to my mouth.

"You don't act like a boy," Atlas whispered, his face inching closer to mine until our lips almost brushed. "And you definitely don't feel like one."