Page 10 of Puck & Her Blades

I manage to keep up my ice cold mask, until she leaves.

The moment that she’s gone, however, I collapse to the floor and allow the tears, which have been threatening all day, to chase down my cheeks.

Everything is overwhelming after so many months of silence and sensory deprivation.

Now, this change is too much.

I allowed myself to hope that even though my family rejected me, I’d been granted a second chance.

Stupid.

Will I be condemned to never dance again, instead, playing the mascot?

I hug my knees to my chest, sobbing.

Then I cringe away from the sudden stink of burned coffee that floods the locker room.

It’s the scent of enraged Alpha.

It’s a terrifyingly dominant Alpha.

My instincts kick in, and I whimper, scrabbling backwards.

It hurts to kneel on my impaired leg, but I still huddle on my knees in the corner.

The stench overwhelms the small locker room.

I can’t escape it.

It traps me.

Then my head snaps up, and I find myself staring into the furious eyes of an Alpha.

CHAPTER 2

Blade Arena, Washington

I stare at my new Head Alpha, panting desperately to control my panic in the face of the punishing waves of his burned coffee scent.

I’d know him anywhere: Roarke Blade.

He’s the billionaire owner of the Blades, the legendary ex-player and coach who led his team to victory twice in the Alpha Cup, and my new Head Alpha.

When he stalks into the small locker room, I freeze.

He’s a mountain of a man.

He’s in his fifties and is wearing a sleek black suit with a purple logo on the pocket. He must have been handsome when he was young but now, he looks like a snarl brought to life.

His blond, curly hair is threaded with gray and his narrow brown eyes flash with rage. He looks like he’s one intimidating moment away from ripping out someone’s throat.

As long as it’s not mine.

I’ve never felt more like baring my neck to someone.

And not in a good way.

He scans me up and down, as if considering whether I truly am worth twenty-one million dollars.

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