Page 7 of The Price of Ice

Like he was a fucking child who needed bribing. He had to inhale again, slowly and relishing making Maslow wait even— No, because he knew he could only make him wait, not refuse him altogether. But then he had to face the music. “How...?”

“If you can manage to roll onto your side,” the doctor told him, almost gently.

Kallen wasn’t sure if that made it better or worse, though. He did it anyway, sucking in a sharp breath but not crying out again, then felt the alpha’s hand on his leg, guiding his top knee towards his chest to leave his hole exposed. He bit his lip hard to keep from making noise. He didn’t know why making noise felt like losing, but it did. They’d hurt him and he hadn’t been able to stop it, and now he couldn’t stop this either, but he could not show them how much damage they’d done.

“Mmm... irritated,” Maslow declared, and Kallen would have snorted if he’d had the chance before his hole was spread open and all his focus had to go to being quiet. “I need to palpate.”

It was all the warning he got before a cold finger was entering him. He clenched, inevitably, nails digging into his own calf as the doctor kept pushing through the resistance, pausing every so often to circle his finger around.

He didn’t make a sound, but by the time the finger was withdrawn, his eyes were wet, and he was shivering.

“They were right, no tears,” the doctor told him, and Kallen didn’t turn to look at him, tracking him by ear as he moved around the room. “I’m leaving you the ointment, apply it at least twice a day, three would be better if you want to heal quicker. There are painkiller drops if you need them.”

And you shouldn’t, he could hear that loud and clear. Just like the good doctor had made it clear Kallen shouldn’t have needed to get drunk to sleep with multiple alphas during his heats. It was fine for an omega to play hockey, but only if he could prove he was just as strong as any alpha.

No alpha on his team was going to miss the game that night because he’d been fucked raw, of course, he thought bitterly, and got his elbows under him to reach out for the drops.

Chapter 4

He could have gone back to play three days later, even if he was still a little sore. He’d played while a little sore post-heat more than once, after all. But apparently this time he was getting benched for someone else’s fuckup as well as hurt. And he had to show up to the game as well, sit on the bench and look like he wanted them to win, which he did, obviously, they were still his team, but he also wanted...

Levy dropped down next to him after his shift, letting their elbows touch but not jostling him. “Hey.”

Kallen glanced at him, suddenly terrified.Did they all know what had happened?He kept his gaze on the ice, even if he couldn’t have said who had the puck. “Hey.”

“You feeling better?” Levy asked, without any of his usual cheer.

“Sure,” Kallen said, knowing he was lying. His arse was better, but he felt like shit, barely able to swallow past the rage beating in his throat. His pulse was probably faster than if he’d been skating full-tilt right then.

Once the match was over—they’d lost so at least he didn’t have to congratulate them on it—he stood up and started to walk out.

It said a lot about his state of mind that he didn’t realise he was being addressed until Levy, shoeless, caught up to him and grabbed his forearm. “Hey!”

He blinked at the young alpha, confused.

“Wait for me?” Levy asked. “I’ll drive you home, feed you something?” And his smile wasn’t quite there, but Kallen could see it in the softness in the corner of his eyes.

For a moment, he nearly shook his head and turned away again. But then he thought about going home with Johnson instead, about how the veteran would try to make small talk and analyse the plays with him, and Kallen wouldn’t know what he was talking about. “Yeah, okay.”

IN THE CAR, LEVY PUTthe radio on, then waved his hand towards it, flashing him a smile. “Your choice.”

Kallen didn’t really care that much right then. Except that the fast music Levy must have been listening to on the way to the stadium was getting on his nerves, so he changed stations until something softer came on. The words were lost to him, but they filled the silence between them with something that wasn’t what they weren’t saying. WhatKallenwasn’t saying because he didn’t even think he was allowed to. The twins had stopped Vandy, and the doctor had made sure he was okay, but other than that... It really seemed like they all were going to pretend nothing had happened.

They didn’t speak at all as they made their way upstairs, Levy lugging his bag and humming something under his breath, fingers silently beating on the lift railing.

The moment they were inside, his host dropped everything by the door and shot for the kitchen.

Taking a seat on the sofa seemed like the path of less resistance. Whatever Levy wanted to do, Kallen could follow, as long as his teammate didn’t expect him to speak.

A few minutes later, Levy was back, putting down a plate on the coffee table and lifting a bottle in the air in offer. “Beer?”

Kallen glanced down at the finger food with a frown, he wasn’t all that hungry, but Levy had just played a game. “Aren’t you going to eat more than this?”

“Oh, I just popped a lasagna in the oven,” he was told with an easy smile that seemed to fall off Levy’s lips too soon. “Kallen...” His throat worked as he swallowed. “Can I... Do you want to tell me what happened?”

His eyes shot up, shoulders tensing.

“You don’t have to!” Levy said at once. “You can, it’s what I’m saying. I’m here to listen, if you... Or I can get you a beer, or something stronger, and we can...” He glanced around. “Watch telly, play video games, whatever.”

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