Maya
The roar of the crowd made my teeth ache. I pressed myself deeper into the shadows beneath the bleachers, clutching my algebra textbook like a shield against the chaos above. The metal seats groaned and shook as hundreds of students stomped their feet, chanting Liam Black's name like he was some kind of god.
"BLACK! BLACK! BLACK!"
I winced and tried to focus on problem seventeen. If x equals three, then what is the value of… The numbers blurred on the page as another thunderous cheer erupted overhead. Dust rained down from the old bleacher structure, settling on my homework like gray snow.
This was supposed to be my safe space. The one corner of Millfield High where nobody looked, where I could disappear and actually get something done. But tonight was the championship game against the Riverside Wolves, and apparently nowhere was safe from the hockey hysteria.
Through the gaps in the metal framework, I could see flashes of the ice rink. The players moved like lightning, their skates carving sharp lines across the frozen surface. But even from here, even with my limited view, one player stood out from the rest.
Liam Black.
He moved differently than the others. Where they seemed to struggle against the ice, he flowed over it like he was born there. His dark hair whipped behind him as he stole the puck from an opposing player, his movements so fluid they almost didn't look human.
I shook my head and looked back at my textbook. *Focus, Maya. Just because every other girl in school is obsessed with the hockey captain doesn't mean you have to be.*
A sharp crack echoed through the arena as two players collided near the boards. The crowd gasped, then exploded into cheers as someone hit the ice hard. I couldn't help but look up through the bleacher slats.
Liam stood over a Riverside player who was clutching his shoulder and groaning. But instead of offering a hand up like the rulebook said players should, Liam's whole body seemed coiled, ready to strike again. His teammates skated over, but they kept their distance, like they were afraid to get too close.
"That's what you get for checking our captain!" someone yelled from the stands above me.
The referee's whistle shrieked, but the damage was done. The Riverside player struggled to his feet, his jersey torn and his face twisted with pain. He said something to Liam that I couldn't hear over the crowd noise, but I saw Liam's reaction.
His shoulders went rigid. His hands clenched into fists around his hockey stick. And for just a moment, I could have sworn I saw his lips pull back to show his teeth.
"Fight! Fight! Fight!" The chant started somewhere in the home section and spread like wildfire.
I should have looked away. Should have gone back to my algebra. Should have minded my own business like I always did. But something about the way Liam held himself made my skin prickle with warning.
The Riverside player shoved Liam's chest with his glove. It wasn't hard, barely a tap, really, but Liam exploded.
He dropped his stick and grabbed the other player by the jersey, spinning him around and slamming him against the boards so hard the entire rink shook. The safety glass rattled in its frame just a few feet from where I sat hidden.
"Holy crap," I whispered.
The other player tried to fight back, throwing wild punches that Liam dodged easily. But when one lucky swing caught Liam across the cheek, something changed.
Liam's head snapped back from the impact, and when he looked up again, his whole face had transformed. His features seemed sharper, more predatory. His movements became impossibly quick and precise. He grabbed his opponent's helmet and yanked it off, then drove his fist into the player's nose with a wet, horrible sound.
Blood splattered across the ice. Across the boards. Across the glass.
A drop hit the safety barrier right in front of my face, bright red against the clear surface. I jerked backward, my heart hammering against my ribs.
That's when I saw them.
Liam's eyes.
They weren't the dark brown I'd seen in yearbook photos or glimpsed in the hallways. They were gold. Bright, molten gold that seemed to glow under the arena lights. And they were staring straight at me through the blood-streaked glass.
My textbook slipped from my numb fingers and hit the concrete floor with a loud thump. The sound shouldn't have been audible over the screaming crowd, but somehow, impossibly, Liam's head turned toward the noise.
Toward me.
His golden eyes found mine through the maze of bleacher supports and shadows. For a heartbeat that stretched into eternity, the rest of the world disappeared. There was no crowd, no arena, no championship game. Just him and me and those impossible, glowing eyes that saw right through my carefully constructed invisibility.
My lungs forgot how to work. My pulse pounded so loud in my ears that it drowned out everything else. In three years at Millfield High, Liam Black had never looked at me. Had never spoken to me. Had probably never even realized I existed.
But now he was staring at me like he could see straight into my soul.
The referee finally reached the fight, pulling players apart and shouting penalties I couldn't hear. Other players crowded around, blocking my view, but I could still feel those golden eyes searching for me in the darkness.
I scrambled to grab my textbook and shove it into my backpack. My hands were shaking so badly I could barely work the zipper. This was crazy. I was imagining things. Eyes didn't just change color, and star hockey players definitely didn't notice girls like me.
But when the crowd cleared and I dared another glance at the ice, Liam was still looking in my direction. The referees had separated the fighters and were setting up for a face-off, but he wasn't paying attention to the game. He was scanning the bleachers with those too-bright eyes, searching.
Searching for me.
A chill ran down my spine that had nothing to do with the cold arena air. Whatever I'd just witnessed, whatever had made his eyes glow like that, it wasn't normal. It wasn't human.
And somehow, he knew I'd seen it.
The whistle blew for the face-off, finally drawing Liam's attention back to the game. But as I crept out from under the bleachers on shaking legs, I could still feel the weight of his gaze following me.
For the first time in my life, Maya Carter had been noticed. And I had the terrifying feeling that everything was about to change