Chapter 46: Honey, Are you Coming?

Blair power-walked across the campus, keeping her head low. The campus was surprisingly bustling for this time of night. She kept her hands shoved deep into her hoodie pockets, forcing her legs to move faster. She needed to reach the woods before the fear clutching at her heart convinced her to turn back.

As she hurried past one of the courtyards, she found herself walking right behind two large beastmen in letterman jackets.

"I can’t believe the Timber Wolves are kicking their asses right now," the first beastman scoffed, shaking his head.

"Right? What’s up with Daemus?" the second one asked, sounding genuinely confused. "He seems completely out of it tonight. He missed two easy checks."

Blair stopped dead in her tracks, her sneakers skidding slightly on the stone.

Her eyes widened to the size of dinner plates. Daemus had a game tonight?!

Wait...

She pulled her hands out of her pockets and ran her fingers through her hair as a realization crashed over her.

I’ll see you later?

That’s what he meant?!

Blair stood frozen on the path. She looked to her left, where the bright lights of the ice rink lit up the night in the distance. Then she looked to her right, staring into the dark, foggy, terrifying abyss of the woods.

Her roommate might be in those woods. But her fake boyfriend was expecting her in those stands.

She was torn. What was she supposed to do?

----

Meanwhile, the Apex Wolves were taking a beating on the ice.

The scraping of skate blades and the violent smash of bodies hitting glass echoed through the freezing arena. Daemus skated backward, his eyes darting toward the VIP stands for the dozenth time this period.

The seat next to his mother and sister was still empty.

"Daemus, look out!" a teammate roared.

Daemus snapped his attention forward a fraction of a second too late. A Timber Wolf center slammed his shoulder into Daemus’s chest, throwing him against the boards. The breath left Daemus’s lungs in a rush as the opposing player pinned him against the glass.

"Maybe you pretty nerds should stick to your books!" the Timber Wolf sneered through his mouthguard, his hot breath fogging Daemus’s visor. "Leave the ice to real predators!"

Daemus shoved the player off, but the damage was done. The Timber Wolves had already stolen the puck, rocketing down the ice to score yet another humiliating point.

"Daemus, what the hell are you doing?!" his defenseman yelled, slapping his stick against the ice. "Get your head in the game! We cannot lose this match!"

Daemus didn’t answer. He just skated back to his position, his jaw clenched so tightly his teeth ached. He was unfocused. Every passing second ticked loudly in his brain, bringing with it a new wave of agitation.

By the time the loud buzzer blared to signal the start of the second intermission, they were down by an embarrassing margin.

Daemus sat on the wooden bench in the locker room, resting his elbows on his knees. He stared blankly at a scuff mark on the rubber mat beneath his skates, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath.

Standing in the center of the room, the coach was screaming his lungs out.

"Our defensive line is a joke right now!" the coach roared, his face purple with rage. "You are skating like newborn pups out there! Daemus, you are missing open passes!"

But to Daemus, the yelling was just background noise. It was slowly fading into a dull, echoing hum.

Did she forget? Daemus wondered, a cold knot forming in his stomach.

His mind spiraled rapidly through the worst-case scenarios. Was she hurt? Was she lying out cold in a ditch somewhere? Or... was she taken? By Killian?

Daemus tightly clenched his fist, his nails biting into his palm beneath his gloves. The mere thought of her being with the Snake Prince made Daemus’s blood boil.

He didn’t know why it bothered him so much. It wasn’t like they were actually in a relationship. He was just annoyed because she was breaching the terms of their agreement. That was it.

"Daemus!"

A hand grabbed his shoulder pad and gave him a rough shake.

"Stop ignoring me and say something!" the coach barked, leaning right into Daemus’s face.

Daemus slowly tilted his head up. He looked the coach dead in the eyes.

The coach instantly let go of his shoulder. The older wolf took a quick, stumbling step backward, swallowing hard. The air in the locker room felt like it had been sucked out. Daemus’s silver eyes held a look that screamed violence.

A drop of cold sweat rolled down the coach’s temple. The last time Daemus had looked this angry, they had to quietly cover up a murder on the ice.

"Look," the coach said, his voice suddenly losing its volume, adopting a much calmer, soothing tone. "I know you can win it for us out there. There’s no need to be angry."

"I’m not angry," Daemus said tightly.

The coach rubbed his neck nervously. "I can’t let you play if you don’t calm down, Daemus."

"I am very calm right now," Daemus replied, his jaw ticking.

The coach cleared his throat loudly, taking another step back toward the door. "Right. Just... clear your head."

The coach fled the locker room, pulling the door shut behind him.

A moment later, a cheerful voice echoed from the hallway. "Good evening, Coach!"

The door swung open again, and Uncle Silas sauntered into the room. He leaned casually against a locker, an amused glint in his golden eyes.

"No sign of your lady friend, huh?" Silas observed, clicking his tongue. "Well, I suppose that makes sense. I heard she is currently busy with Jasper."

Daemus froze. "Who the fuck is Jasper?"

"Oh, Lord Jasper Silver," Silas smiled brightly. "A very pretty fellow. He has a particular talent for getting females to spread their legs for him."

Daemus’s heart started racing like a jackhammer against his ribs as his imagination ran wild. The heat inside his body spiked so fast that a wave of steam rose off his shoulders.

"That’s the spirit!" Silas cheered, clapping his hands together as he watched his nephew practically boil over with rage. "Go destroy the Timber Wolves!"

The loud buzzer blared in the hallway, signaling the end of the intermission.

Daemus stood up. He didn’t say a word. He grabbed his stick and marched out of the locker room, walking right past the coach in the hallway.

The coach opened his mouth to stop him, to pull him from the roster, but his voice failed him. He watched in quiet panic as Daemus hit the ice, terrified that the Wolf Prince was going to kill someone out there tonight.

Silas chuckled, stepping up beside the trembling man. He casually flung an arm over the coach’s shoulder.

"Relax," Silas grinned, giving the coach a playful wink. "Everything’s more fun with a little bloodshed."