Chapter 5 005

Elara's POV

"Maybe fake dating him wasn't so bad after all."

I sighed in relief, clutching my bag tighter. For once, Alric hadn't misunderstood me or mocked me. He had turned on Lyra instead, cutting her down in front of everyone. I never thought I'd see the day.

It was 4 a.m. by the time I finished my shift and dragged myself out of my uniform. The streets were empty, damp with the chill of night. I was half-asleep, ready to collapse into bed, when a sound froze me mid-step.

Breathy. Urgent. "Alric... please... touch me."

I stopped dead. My chest tightened. Was that-?

I turned my head slowly.

In the dim corner of the street, two figures tangled together in the shadows. A man's broad shoulders, a woman's desperate hands tugging at him. Their mouths locked hard, bodies pressed close.

My throat went dry. My feet refused to move.

The man tilted his head, dark hair falling across his face. I didn't need to see more. I knew that frame, that voice, the way the world seemed to bend around his presence.

Alric.

I tore my gaze away so fast my neck ached. Whatever it was-it wasn't my business. He had a reputation, after all. Wild. Reckless. Dangerous. Maybe this was just... him being him.

But the sound of her moan-his name tangled in her plea-chased me all the way home.

★★★

The next day arrived too quickly.

The stadium was already packed by the time I slipped into the student stands. Flags waved, drums pounded, and the announcer's voice cracked over the speakers, hyping the crowd. This wasn't just a game. It was his game-the championship.

And somehow, after mastering faking smiles and handholding, I had perfected the role of Alric Harlow's girlfriend. At least, in everyone else's eyes.

My stomach churned as I spotted him on the ice. He looked like a machine-skating sharp, stick clashing with bone-rattling force. Too focused. Too angry.

Ulric Hale skated close, jaw set, movements sharp with something more than competitiveness. Every chance he got, he slashed his stick near Alric's legs, aiming for bruises not goals.

The crowd hissed, the referees blew warnings, but Ulric didn't stop. His grin grew sharper each time Alric narrowly avoided him.

I gripped the rail, nails digging into my palm. Alric was fast-faster than Ulric could anticipate. Every scheme Ulric set up, Alric dodged it with ease. It was almost... satisfying, watching him win at a game that wasn't just about hockey.

Then came the snap.

The referee blew the whistle, arm raised high. Penalty-against Alric.

The crowd erupted into chaos. Half shouted in outrage, half cheered like they'd been waiting for this.

Ulric smirked. Alric's face hardened.

Before I could process it, Alric grabbed the referee's arm. Not like a player protesting a call-no, it was harsher, sharper. The ref cried out, stumbling back. His sleeve tore, and red welts slashed across his skin.

The entire stadium gasped.

I froze, my breath caught in my chest. Because I saw it. Clearer than anyone else.

Those weren't nails.

They were claws.

The hall buzzed with panic, eyes locked on Alric. Shock. Confusion. Fear. The medical team rushed to the referee, pressing cloth to the blood dripping down his arm. Students shouted over each other-some calling it an accident, others swearing Alric had attacked him.

No one noticed me slip away.

★★★

I pushed through the heavy doors and stepped into the night air, lungs aching as though I hadn't breathed in hours.

The rooftop balcony stretched before me, cold wind whipping my hair. And then I saw it.

The full moon hung heavy and bright above the city, silver light spilling across the rooftop tiles. My chest tightened. Something about it felt... alive.

My lips parted, and for a moment, it wasn't the chaos I remembered-it was my mother. Her laughter. The way she'd hum under the moonlight while braiding my hair, whispering, "The moon makes even broken things shine."

Tears threatened, but I blinked them back, clutching the railing.

A thud snapped me back.

I spun-and froze.

Alric was there. Alone. His fist smashed into the brick wall with brutal force. Blood smeared across the stone, dripping from his knuckles. He hit it again, harder, like he was trying to break himself before he broke the world.

I opened my mouth, words tangled in my throat. "You'll... you'll break your hand if you keep that up."

His head jerked toward me.

For a second-just a fleeting second-his eyes weren't the stormy gray everyone knew. They burned red, glowing under the moonlight.

I gasped. My back pressed against the railing instinctively.

But just as quickly, the glow vanished. His eyes returned to normal, shadowed and unreadable.

And yet-I knew what I saw.

"What are you looking at?"

Alric's voice was lower, deeper than usual-like it vibrated straight through my bones.

I was still clutching his hand, knuckles raw and bleeding from the wall, the heat of his skin searing into mine.

"Tell me," he pressed, his gaze sharp, cutting through me like glass. "What did you see?"

My chest rose and fell too fast. I stepped back, but he followed, each step closing the distance until my back hit the cold wall. No way out. His shadow loomed, caging me in.

"I... I didn't..." My voice broke. "Your eyes. They... they weren't-"

His jaw flexed. Silence stretched, heavy and suffocating, until it felt like the night itself was holding its breath.

Then-footsteps. Fast. Echoing closer.

Alric moved in a blur. His lips slammed against mine, rough, forceful, his hand locking me in place as he spun me hard against the wall. His tongue shoved past my lips, stealing my breath, sucking on my lower lips like he owned the air in my lungs.

I pushed hard on his chest, desperate for space, but he only crushed me tighter, his forceful kiss making me breathless, as sounds of his lips slamming on mine filled my ears.

My eyes flew open-and met his eyes.

They weren't normal. Not anymore.

Under the cold wash of moonlight, they glowed-deep, violent red