Dangerous Intrigue

RYDER

"You already kicked my friend out, so we might as well," is what she says to me in response to my question.

For a few beats, I don't know what to say back to her. I've never had anyone—and I mean anyone—talk to me the way she did just now.

"Tyler Hawke's your friend?" I ask, my voice laced with disbelief and this anger that really has no place inside of me. Why the fuck do I care if she's friends with that fucking loser? Why am I calling him that when we're teammates and I respect his work? Why do I feel this spark of jealousy and possessiveness just at the thought of them standing a few feet away from each other?

Nothing makes sense anymore, and I realize this happened from the second I laid my eyes on her in that medical room.

Her scent—it came from out of nowhere and hit me with a force that still has me confused. It was only a hint, though. A breath later, it was gone. My wolf held onto it, though, and maybe that's why I'm here.

Standing in front of her like an idiot, even after she spoke to me—the future Alpha of this pack—the way she did just now.

I'm hoping to get a whiff of that delicious scent again, but I'm standing incredibly close to her and nothing's coming through.

What the hell is going on?

"Yes, he's my friend," she answers, jolting me out of my thoughts. "And you were pretty rude to him."

I couldn't help myself—I felt mad when I saw them come in together, and a wave of rage crashed into me when I saw him touching her chest. It's clear he spilled a drink on her, but why would he touch her?

What the fuck was that all about? Why do I even care?

I change the subject. "I came here because I wanted to apologize to you for how I spoke to you in the medical room."

She blinks—I'm sure my apology caught her off guard. "Oh. Right."

The worst part? I'm trying really hard to remember her name, but I don't think Coach got a chance to say it. I was so damn mad about the stats of the game. We were losing, and my father asked me to win this game. It's important because the Silvertails were making crazy demands and this game would be the one to settle things.

When an ice hockey match is meant to be for fun, it's alright to lose, even though we never do.

When it comes to solving political issues...that's when things start to get ugly.

I arch a brow at her silence, the same brow with the stitches on it. They're completely unnecessary because the wound is practically healed.

I don't know how she did it. I'm pretty sure that gash was deep as hell. I felt the pain of the impact—it really hurt. I felt dizzy as I left the rink.

I mention this to her, then add, "What's your secret? How'd you get it to heal so quickly?"

Her eyes meet mine, and in them, I see anger. "Secret? I don't have one. Perhaps it's just that I approach things with kindness and not like an asshole. Excuse me."

I watch her walk away, shocked. I'm pretty sure she just called me an asshole.

What the hell?

I tried to be nice to her—I apologized. I watch her head into the kitchen, weaving through the crowd to get there. Then, I spot her standing close to Tyler again, who apparently has been watching us this whole time.

Are they seeing each other? They seem a little too—

Fuck. By the goddess. Why do I care? I don't even know her name.

I knew there was an intern from the medical field, but I didn't pay attention to her until tonight, when she had to stitch me up.

I prefer who I was before I met her, because none of this makes sense.

Arms wrap around my middle, and when I look down, I see Nadia standing beside me. Her smile is broad, but there's a seriousness to her eyes. "Why were you talking to that Omega?"

Her question rubs me the wrong way. "That's really none of your business, Nadia."

She grows more serious and stands upright, her arms falling to her sides. "I'm just asking, Ryder. It's not like I'm trying to be intrusive."

I fold my arms. "I think you are."

Nadia and I have been on and off for years—since our senior year of high school, to be exact. I always end up pushing her away because it doesn't matter how many times I warn her that I don't want any commitments; she always starts acting like she's my girlfriend whenever we've spent too much time together.

She's doing that now.

I don't want commitments, relationships, or anything that comes with permanence where a partner is concerned. Hell, I don't want a mate.

Never have. Never will.

"It's just that people will start to talk if they see you talking to someone of her rank," she explains sweetly. "I mean, you know the rules just as well as I do."

"What rules?" I challenge her, even though I know exactly what she's talking about. "There are no rules for me, Nadia. I'm the Alpha heir. I do what I want, when I want. And if people talk, they better do it behind my back."

Hurt is written all over her face. I ignore her and make my way back to the living room.

The rule she's referring to is one I've heard all my life—I can mess around with as many girls as I want, but at the end of the day, I can't have an Omega mate. They're too weak, and their bloodlines could ruin all my future children. What if they're born runts, meaning they have no wolves? There are many risks to mating with an Omega.

But I just thanked her for stitching me up—it's not like I asked her to fucking marry me.

Even if I did, I'm sure she'd say no, which can't be said for any girl in here.

And maybe that's why I'm so damn intrigued.

"Isn't that Coach's niece or whatever? The intern?" Zach asks once I'm sitting close to him. Zach is my closest friend on the team.

"Yeah," I reply dismissively. I don't want to talk about her with them.

"What did she want?" he asks, not getting the hint that I don't want to talk. "Did she throw herself at you because she stitched you up?"

The others laugh—I hadn't realized they were listening until now. I refrain from answering, and the matter is forgotten. The opposite happened, actually. Would they believe me if I told them?

No. They wouldn't. For years, they've witnessed girls throwing themselves at me, desperate for a chance of being Luna. Like I said, I never came across anyone who spoke to me rudely.

I was astonished even in the medical room, when she basically told me to fuck myself.

I try to focus on the party, but that's incredibly harder to do when I'm busy looking around for her, hoping to see her face. I can't get her scent off my mind, even if I didn't smell it on her tonight. I'm intrigued, though. I can't forget it.

It makes me wonder just what kind of hole I'm digging myself into.