Page 1 of Take All of Me

Maya

I drop my duffel bag on the dorm room floor with an echoing thud that feels like the sound of my life hitting reset. Four years. Four fucking years since I last stepped foot on Northvale University’s campus, and the air still smells the same—like stale beer, desperation, and that crisp, icy bite that clings to everything here because of the rink just across the quad.

I’m back,finally, after wasting so much time on that fucker Nox, an Alpha who dangled love and stability in front of me like a carrot that I was too stupid to see was all wrong. I spent so much fucking time on someone who told me that love was all I needed and I was dumb enough to believe it—throwing away everything I had worked so hard for.

Joke’s on me, I guess.

I shove those feelings down right there with all of the other things I’m not dealing with as I kick my bag against the twin bed’s metal frame for good measure. A curse falls from my lips as the bed creaks, the emptiness of the room reminding me of days when all this was new, fun, and exciting. Four years ago, I was on top of the world, studying sports medicine, and aiming to follow in my father’s footsteps as coach, assistant, or whatever the fuck of the Northvale Hawks.

Nox turned that dream into background noise while I played house for an Alpha who thought “mate” meant “maid.” Goddess, how did I get so turned around? I shake my head, peeling off my sweatshirt in one fluid yank, the fabric catching on my curls before I toss it onto the bed. The room’s warm, stuffy from a radiator that’s clearly got a mind of its own, and I’m finally free to let my guard down, if only for a second.

This is my fresh start. My do-over. No more catering to a man who didn’t even love me enough to mean it when he said “forever.” And now that I’m back, that dream hasn’t changed. I used to all but live on the ice, with the team, in the stands, on the sidelines, and I’m ready to return. Just as soon as I get my life in order.

I step up to the mirror propped against the wall and tug the tie from my hair. Full, wild curls spill out, bouncing around my face like they’ve been waiting to breathe too. I smooth them down, just a little, and catch my reflection in the glass.

The tank top I’m wearing clings to me, showing off every inch of dark bronze skin I’ve spent the last year hiding under layers of shame and oversized hoodies. Muscles line my arm and shoulders, months of gym time finally paying off and there’s a spark in my brown eyes I haven’t seen in too long. I look… like me. Almost.

But that’s not the part that truly pains me. It’s the scar along my right shoulder, ending halfway up my neck. A pink, jaggedthing still slightly fresh despite the months since the surgery that ripped Nox’s bite out of me. I reach up to trace it with my fingertips, the skin puckered and uneven, a shiver crawling down my spine.

He told me I was overreacting when I demanded it gone, that cutting out his mark didn’t have to mean the end. “It’s just a scar, Maya,”he’d said.“You’re still mine.”

But I wasn’t. I never really was. I wanted a clean break, no traces of him lingering on my body so that I didn’t get caught up in the moment somewhere down the line and return to him. And now he’s behind me, the bite gone, his calls coming through every once in a while as he pleads for me to see reason and that I could be the best Beta to his new Omega.

I can handle all of that. But the nightmares. Those fuckers stick around, the biological taboo of surgically ridding a bite haunting me every time I close my eyes. Add in the fact that Nox used to use me and I’m just a little ball of disaster. Last night, it was his hands pinning me down, his growl promising forever while his eyes screamed lies. I woke up gasping, sheets tangled around my legs, and swore I’d never let him haunt me here.

The scar’s a reminder of all the bad but it’s also a statement, proof that I clawed my way out and set myself back on the right path. I’m not that doe-eyed little girl anymore—the one who dimmed her own light to keep his burning.

“New start, Maya,” I tell myself, reaching into one of the boxes for sheets and my duvet. I have no energy left to explore the campus I once knew or entertain myself at the ice rink. Food and sleep are the only things on my mind as I focus on wrapping my bed in the dark blue fabric. I remember when my dorm room screamed Northvale Hawks, my father’s jersey, the school logo, the mascot on every little thing. Red, brown, and golds woven through all of my fabric.

Now? I’m more than happy with the one-color scheme to offset the chaos in my head.

My shoulders fall as I sink onto the bed, flopping onto my side, running through my schedule for this semester. Nothing too difficult, classes I dropped four years ago, and just enough time to slip out to the ice rink to watch the games without being overloaded. It’sperfect.

The shrill ring of my phone—one that I thought I turned off—drags me out of my head as I slide the device from my back pocket. “Of course, it’s you, you fucker,” I mutter, staring at Nox’s name scrolling across the screen. I’ve blocked him more than once but that just seems to fuel his need to get to me, the Alpha showing up at my last apartment like it wasn’t weird he knew where I was.

I’ve switched phones, gotten a new number, and still, he somehow gets to me every time. I might not have been with him for the last year but it sometimes feels like I haven’t really left. It might have something to do with the fact that he works for the city and he has connections within the police department.

I’m surprised he hasn’t found a reason to have me arrested me yet.

I snort, imagining Nox catching me on some asinine bullshit, my phone going dark and then lighting up again. He doesn’t usually call twice in a row. He’ll leave a message, droning on about how it wasn’t that serious and that I still have a place in his house or whatever bullshit he woke up with today. The phone goes dark again and then buzzes, a three minute voicemail popping up in a voice to text message.

>>> Maya, don’t be like this. Everything is all fucked up. Vienna… isn’t herself and I need you…

I delete the message before I can read anymore of his bullshit and block that number before chucking it across the bed, wondering if his Omega, Vienna, had turned on him too. Maybeshe ran away, hooked up with another Alpha, maybe even chose Nox’s brother. A smile splits across my face, Nox losing control of his life for a second time.

Hilarious really.

“Alright, Maya, time to get the show on the road,” I tell myself, pushing to my feet and beginning to unpack. It just so happened that I got lucky enough to have my own room. Having started late in the year, it was the only dorm open and being a few years older than my graduate counterparts at 26, I’ll relish the silence.

It doesn’t take me long to stuff the crickety drawers with my clothing, enough sweatshirts to last me at least two weeks. The doctor said my scar would fade over time but until then I have absolutely no intention of showing off that horrid part of my life. The less questions the better.

Moving onto my other bag, I grab a framed photo from the bag—me and Dad, grinning rinkside, my gap-toothed smile from when I was ten. I set it on the dresser, running my thumb over the glass, and the ache shifts. It’s not just hockey I’m longing for. It’s… more. Someone to share it with, maybe. Not a pack—not after Nox—but a connection that doesn’t feel like a cage. Who am I kidding? Love’s a minefield, and I’m still recovering from the last fuckup.

I keep unpacking—socks, a notebook, a battered copy ofHockey for DummiesDad gave me as a joke. A melody starts up in my throat, something to pass the time until this room becomes just a little warmer with a touch of my stuff surrounding me. It’s not much but it’s mine and that’s all I can ask for.

A knock rattles the door, catching me off guard, the tune dying in my throat. The knob turns before I can say anything, the door creaking open slow enough to make my heart thud against my ribs. I twist around, shocked to see the one person who never leftme behind. Dakota, filling the frame like he never left, like no time has passed.

Like we’re still the oddball teenagers making plans for college. Or roommates with benefits four years ago at this very college. He’s tall as ever, all lean muscle and messy dark hair falling past his shoulders, but it’s his scent that hits me first—spicy lavender, richer now, sweeter than I remember, curling into my lungs like a memory I didn’t know I’d buried. I can’t smell it as well as I could before the surgery, just another one of those side effects but it’s enough to realize that it’s shifted.

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