Sweat streamed from his temples and down his body, as if the very air was trying to strip away the last remnants of his control. His shirt—soaked through—had been left somewhere in the hallway, near the bench. His shorts—gone too. His body ached, and the throbbing in his groin pulsed with each beat. Hockey usually gave him an adrenaline rush, but now... Now was different.

He felt it rising inside him—that sweet, bitter, sticky sensation. At first, it crept up his spine like an icy needle. Then it flared—sharp—slamming into his pelvis, his chest. Like something had boiled over inside him. And it wasn't stopping.

Heat. He hated that word. Hated the way it sounded. Hated that it was about him.

Elio, bitch on the brink. An omega, clenching his teeth so hard his jaw popped. He growled to keep from moaning as he stepped into the shower, shutting the door behind him and pressing his back to the cold tiled wall.

Empty. Or so it seemed.

He turned the faucet blindly—and icy water crashed down on his overheated body. He exhaled—a sound close to a moan—from the jarring temperature difference. But even that didn't help. The throbbing between his legs only intensified. The scent... He could smell it himself. His own. Spicy, sweet, alluring. Pheromones spilling from him like honey from a split hive.

He clenched his fists, grabbed the back of his head, rested his forehead against the wall. His tail twitched—then pressed flat. Ears pinned. He trembled—from the cold and the arousal. It was too much. Too fast, too sharp. He hadn't made it home. Hadn't injected another dose of suppressants. He'd just... exploded. From the inside.

He gritted his teeth, ran a hand down his stomach. Damp hairs clung to his skin. He didn't want to... But his body did. His body betrayed him with every drop sliding down the inside of his thigh. He grabbed himself between the legs—quickly, harshly, with hatred. And hissed—whether from pain or pleasure, he no longer knew.

"Fuck..." he spat through clenched teeth, biting his lip.

He cursed under his breath, slammed a fist against the wall. His fingers shook. He tried to be alpha—strong, predatory—not the weak omega he truly was. But here he stood, under a freezing shower, in nothing but a stream of water, burning up from within. Pulsing. Wet. Vulnerable.

Elio ran his tongue over his lips. In his mind, fingers skimmed his thighs. Teeth grazed his neck. Eyes—those eyes watching him.

He shook his head. Gritted his teeth. That's enough. He'd pull himself together. He'd breathe. He was stronger than this. He—

Slipped.

His body jolted, his foot slid on the wet tile, and with a muffled thud, Elio crashed onto the floor, his back hitting hard, the sound echoing off the walls in a dull ricochet. His tail smacked the tile. A soft, stifled moan escaped him.

He lay sprawled, semi-erect, completely naked, legs spread wide. Breathing heavily. Water still poured down, breaking against his collarbones.

He was just about to curse again when suddenly... he heard footsteps. Soft, hesitant. Not his own.

Someone else was in the locker room.

Someone had seen.

Or—was about to.