Page 54 of The Price of Ice

“Hey.” His voice was even, steady and calm. “Look at me.”

It was barely an order at all, but Kallen raised his head. Levy’s brown eyes were clear, his attention completely on Kallen.

He swallowed, throat tight. He was going to ruin this.

He allowed himself a beat, then two, to see the love on his friend’s face. And then he looked away because he didn’t think he could bear to see it disappear.

His jaw clicked audibly as he opened his mouth and closed it again.

“Hey,” Levy said again. “I don’t know what happened exactly. Only... Only that he hurt you,” and there was an edge of anger there, but it was controlled, leashed. Just like he’d promised. “And that isn’t okay. Even if... Even if your contract said it was, it would be bullshit. You know that, right?”

The contract... He hadn’t even thought about it. For the last few days, he’d been doing his very best not to think about whathad happened during his heat, and then when he’d lost his streak.

“I don’t think it does,” he said now, understanding landing softly. “Because— Because he didn’t help me. With my heat.”

Levy went very still, like he’d stopped breathing altogether.

Kallen wasn’t brave enough to check, but he managed to get the rest out, “He... He made me...” He lifted his right hand to his mouth, brushing his lips and flinching from his own touch like an idiot. And then shoved right past the embarrassment. “Hewouldn’tfuck me.”

“What?” Levy’s voice went high with both surprise and indignation.

“Alexei got to my room first, so we were already on the bed when Mc— The captain and Johnson arrived. He was angry, said I... Like I thought I could sleep with Alexei without his permission, or something.”

Levy didn’t respond and Kallen risked a glance. He was bent forward, fists clenched, eyes scrunched shut and face twisted into silent rage. And then, as if sensing his attention, Levy huffed out a breath and opened his eyes to meet his own, bright with pain and fury both.

He didn’t quite manage to hide the strain in his voice, but he kept his tone level. “What did Johnson and Alexei do?”

“Alexei apologised to the captain. And then...” His throat closed up so fast he raised a hand to it, a silent promise of protection. After a couple of beats of breathing through his nose, he managed a gasp. “He did it.” The words were thin and pathetic, and he wasn’t brave enough to look at Levy to see if he understood. “And then he left. And they helped me,” he told the cushion between them.

Levy was still silent. Kallen tried to focus on his breathing, like he could somehow read him that way since he couldn’t bear to look at him. But the silence stretched for so long that he hadenough air to add, “I don’t... I can’t see what else they could have done.”

“Whatelse?” Levy demanded, raw and not quite holding back. Kallen could feel it all over his skin, the tension spreading all over the room, a cloud that promised a storm. Electric energy that could set the world on fire. Rationally, he knew Levy wouldn’t direct that anger at him, but it still felt so...

The touch on his elbow made him jump, and only then did he realise he was hugging himself. Levy pulled his hand back at once. “Sorry. I’m freaking you out, and I promised I wouldn’t.”

His softness was like a cloak around Kallen’s shoulders. The storm wasn’t gone, but this was protection against it. Levy standing in front him so it wouldn’t touch him.

“Not really,” he said, trying for lightness. “You said you wouldn’t murder him.”

“And I’m very sorry I did,” Levy said and Kallen was pretty sure it was meant to be a joke, but it was so obviously true it fell flat.

And Kallen wasn’t sorry, because it wouldn’t... It wouldn’tfixanything. But it helped to know Levy wanted to, that he would have done it, maybe, in another world with less rules. That he felt—

“What happened in the changing room?” Levy asked, maybe realising there was no point in delaying.

Kallen clenched his eyes shut, nails digging into his arms. It was nearly done, he silently promised himself. “He— He said I had failed the— the team. Because I didn’t... I lost my streak.”

Levy’s breath hitched, the room growing warmer at an impossible speed—the storm was close to breaking now. Kallen leaned forward, grabbing the back of the sofa for balance and blindly grasped for one of his friend’s hands, squeezing hard when he found it. He opened his mouth but all that came out was a thin, shrill sound, pain in its purest form.

And then Levy was crawling closer, putting his free arm around Kallen’s neck and dragging him into an awkward half hug. Kallen collapsed into it, wanting nothing more than to hide in his arms.

“He did it again,” he admitted. He was crying, but that felt incidental as the words tumbled out. “He— I was sitting down and he—” He didn’t manage to finish the sentence, but the arms around him were already tightening and Levy murmuring next to his ear, vicious to the point of murder, “That fuckingcunt.”

And it felt good to hear, to have someone else confirm what he’d known, deep in his gut. But it wasn’t enough, he hadn’t given it his all.

“I think... Maslow’s right. I’m afraid.”

Levy leaned back far enough to look him in the face, his own twisted out of shape by agony and fury. “Fucking hell! Of course you are! He—" Levy turned his face away, throat working hard, but then he met Kallen’s eyes once more. “He raped you, Kallen.”

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