PUCKED BY MY BEST FRIEND’S HOCKEY ALPHA BROTHER

CLINTON'S POV

I watched her go, shoving another spoonful of food down my throat without even tasting it. It felt like swallowing gravel.

My chest was tightening so badly I could barely draw a full breath, and the familiar, agonizing heat of the full moon was already beginning to claw at my insides.

I knew this year would be the worst.

Every single second she was in my line of sight, all I could think about was dragging her to the nearest flat surface and finally, finally taking what belonged to me. But there was a line—a thick, jagged line—and I knew I couldn't cross it.

If I started, I wouldn't be able to stop until I’d ruined everything. I couldn't destroy the peace between our families, and I couldn't break the fragile reality she lived in.

I dropped my spoon, the clatter echoing too loudly in the tense silence of the dining room. I pushed my chair back and stood up abruptly.

"I'm full. I'll be in my room," I muttered, not waiting for a response from my parents or the "guests" at the table.

I walked off, my stride stiff and hurried. Once inside my room, I slammed the door and locked it, leaning my forehead against the cool wood for a second. The silence didn't help; it only made the pounding in my blood louder.

I walked over to my safe, my fingers trembling as I punched in the code. I reached inside and pulled out a small, worn photograph. Staring at it was the only thing that brought me a modicum of peace.

It was Melissa, three years younger, laughing at something off-camera. I remembered that day.

I remembered the exact moment my wolf had reared up and howled “Mate!” so loudly I thought my lungs would burst.

I had been too stunned to speak, too terrified of what it meant for a future Alpha to be tethered to a human that I let her slide through my fingers, before her mother had forced her away to Paris.

I should have stopped her. I should have claimed her right then and there, damn the consequences. Maybe then my life wouldn't be this complicated web of lies and pain.

The heat spiked again, a wave of fire rolling over my skin. I didn't know how much longer I could hold back. Having her under the same roof was a special kind of torture.

A sharp knock sounded at the door and immediately, the scent of vanilla filled my nostrils.

I shoved the picture back into the safe and locked it with a click. "Come in," I rasped, sitting heavily in the armchair.

Cassandra walked in, looking tentative. "The Alpha said I should come over. Everyone is currently with their mate, and he said I should be with mine."

I gave a curt nod, my jaw clamped shut. "Okay."

Another wave of heat hit me, more violent than the last. My body temperature was skyrocketing.

Slowly, I unbuttoned my shirt with frantic fingers, tossing it aside as I ran my hands through my hair.

The air in the room felt like it was boiling. I needed her. I needed my mate, but I couldn't subject her to this.

She was human; she was too fragile to survive the raw, unbridled hunger of a shifting young Alpha in heat.

"Are you okay?" Cassandra asked, stepping closer.

I looked up, my vision blurring at the edges. She was standing right over me.

"Get out," I breathed, the words coming out as a warning growl.

Instead of leaving, she reached out, her hand sliding across my bare chest. "The Luna asked me not to leave your side, Clinton."

I slapped her hand away, my temper flaring white-hot. "Get out before I lose my mind with you!"

My body was screaming for release, craving the friction, the skin-to-skin contact—anything to dull the ache. But I wouldn't betray the girl in that photograph. I wouldn't let a sham contract ruin the only thing that felt real.

"I'm sorry, Clinton," Cassandra whispered, her voice tightening. "But I can't stand the way you keep neglecting me. This might be fake, but…but I want you."

Before I could move, she reached for my belt, her fingers fumbling with the buckle.

The heat in my blood surged into an explosion of rage.

A low, guttural growl escaped my lips as I grabbed her wrists and without thinking, flung her aside, watching her sprawl onto the floor.

I staggered to my feet, my balance wavering. I lunged forward, grabbing her by the neck and pinning her against the wall— not enough to kill her, but enough to make sure she understood.

"This is a contract," I hissed, my face inches from hers. "Never forget you're just a fake mate and the fact that our relationship is a total sham."

“I still haven't settled the fact that you laid a hand on my mate today. Do not test my patience, Cassandra. You know exactly how deadly I can be."

She coughed, her eyes wide with genuine terror. "I'm... sorry."

I released her, watching her slump to the ground like a pathetic slut she was. "Get out!"

She didn't wait. She scrambled to her feet, pulled the door open, and vanished into the hall.

I slammed the door shut, my hands shaking so violently I could barely turn the lock.

I collapsed to the floor, clutching my abdomen as a wave of sheer agony rolled through me. My temperature was high enough to kill a normal man, and the pressure in my pants was becoming unbearable.

"Melissa..." I groaned, clutching at my chest. "I need you. Help me..."

The thoughts started leaking out, my mental barriers crumbling under the weight of the moon.

“Help... save me. I can't control it.”

Faintly, I heard a soft knock at the door.

My nostrils flared and immediately that Freesia and rain scent hit me.

My strength returned in a sudden, desperate surge. I clawed my way to my feet and staggered to the door, pulling it open.

There she was. Melissa.

I tried to shut the door, my last shred of nobility telling me to protect her from the beast I was becoming, but my strength deserted me. I collapsed to the ground, gasping for air.

"Clinton!" She stepped in quickly, kneeling beside me and helping me sit up. "Are you okay? Where's Cassandra?"

"She left," I managed to choke out.

I could see the shock in her eyes, the confusion, but my brain was beyond logic. All I could register was the softness of her skin and the urge to rip that dress off her body.

"Get out," I muttered, weakly pushing her hand away. "Get out, Mel."

"Stay still," she countered, her voice firm despite the tremble in her hands. "You're too weak to even stand."

She somehow managed to hoist me up, guiding my staggering steps toward the bed.

As soon as I sat down, I shoved her away again. "Please, go…before I lose control. I won't be able to stop."

She ignored me, reaching out to press her cool palm against my forehead. "You're burning up, Clinton. What's wrong with you?"

Her face was so close and I could barely register her words. The scent of her was intoxicating, a drug that finally broke the last tether of my restraint. Before I could think, before I could stop the monster, I reached out and grabbed the back of her head, pulling her down and…slammed my lips against hers.

Her eyes went wide, her body freezing in shock, but I didn't care. Her lips were softer than I’d visualized, tasting of everything I’d ever wanted. I needed more.

I rolled us over, pinning her beneath me on the mattress, my weight pressing her into the sheets.

"I can't control it, Mel," I groaned. "Please... just go."

"Does your body ache for me, Clinton?" she whispered, her voice stuttering.

A soft, possessive growl vibrated in my throat. She definitely didn't want a response to that.

Her hands slowly came up, resting against my bare chest, and I shivered at the contact.

"You don't know what you're doing to me," I muttered. "Go. Before I stop being a man and become a beast."

"Why?" she breathed, her eyes searching mine. "Why are you drawn to me today? Shouldn't you be with Cassie? She's your mate..."

"She's not my mate, Melissa!" I snapped, the sound of her calling that girl my mate hitting a nerve I didn't know I had.

I pushed myself up on my elbows, my thumb brushing over her swollen lower lip.

"You are my mate, Melissa. The only one my wolf and my body recognize. The only one I crave. Not her."

I looked down at her, my heart breaking even as my body burned. "I've craved you for two years. Every day has been torture since you came back. But you're human…You're too fragile for this. I don't want you getting caught in my games."

She reached up, her fingers tangling in my hair, pulling me back down toward her.

"I want you," she said, the words clear and defiant.

"I can't feel the bond, Clinton... but I know I want you."

She looked me dead in the eyes, her soul bared to mine.

"Claim me, Clinton."

My eyes searched hers and then, the last shred of my control snapped.

I let out a low, predatory growl and slammed my lips back onto hers, my hand sliding down to yank her gown upward, exposing the soft skin of her thigh.

Fuck! I was gonna ruin her.