Page 57

Chapter

Thirty-Seven

LEXIE

T he door shuts behind us, and suddenly I'm face-to-face with the reality of what we're about to do. The corridor outside the green room is eerily quiet compared to the chaos we just left behind, but I know that's about to change.

"Remember," Jax says, his hand warm on my shoulder, "we're just creating a diversion. Don't engage with specific questions. Keep moving."

"And stay between us," Aidan adds, flexing his bruised knuckles. There's still blood on his jersey and the sight makes my heart flip. He defended what was his. What was ours.

I think I'm getting a little too into hockey.

"I can handle myself," I say, injecting more confidence into my voice than I feel. "I've dealt with worse than reporters. Ever tried to explain to an entitled customer that yes, wool does in fact shrink in hot water?"

Aidan's laugh is strained but genuine. "Fair point."

Jax leads us through a maze of corridors, his captain's authority clearing a path through the few staff members we encounter. They stare at us, at Aidan's bloodied jersey, at my flushed face, at the way Jax positions himself in front of me like a shield, but no one stops us.

The noise hits us before we even reach the main exit. It's a dull roar that grows louder with each step, punctuated by shouting and what sounds like hundreds of cameras clicking. My mouth goes dry.

"Holy shit," I breathe. "Is that all for the team?"

"For Darren," Jax corrects grimly. "But we're about to make it about us."

Security flanks the doors, their faces solemn. One of them, a woman with steel-gray hair and the build of someone who could bench press me without breaking a sweat, steps forward.

"Mr. Lawson," she says, nodding respectfully. "We've got a perimeter set up, but it's a zoo out there. You sure about this?"

"We're sure," Jax confirms. "Our teammate needs a clear exit. We're the distraction."

She studies us for a moment, her gaze lingering on Aidan's knuckles and my jersey—Darren's jersey. "The omega?"

"He's our packmate," Aidan says, and there's a warning in his voice that makes even this intimidating woman take a step back.

"Of course," she says quickly. "We'll do what we can to help. When you're ready."

I take a deep breath, squaring my shoulders. I can do this. For Darren. For my pack, and… fuck, when did I start thinking of them as mine?

"Ready?" Jax asks, looking between Aidan and me.

"Let's give them a show," I say, channeling every ounce of fake bravado I possess.

The doors open, and we're immediately assaulted by chaos.

Cameras flash like strobe lights, momentarily blinding me. The crowd surges forward, held back only by a thin line of security. Reporters shout questions, each trying to be heard over the others. Fans scream, some supportive, some definitely not. The energy is electric and terrifying.

"Jax! Jax! What's the team's position on Malloy's omega status?"

"Aidan! Did you know Morris is in critical condition?"

"Who's the girl? Is she Malloy's girlfriend?"

"Was this planned? Did the team know he's an omega all along?"

Jax's hand finds the small of my back, guiding me forward. Aidan flanks my other side, using his considerable bulk to create space. We push through the crowd, ignoring the questions even as they get more invasive.

"Miss! Are you dating the whole pack?"

"How long have you known about Malloy's designation?"

"Do you think omegas belong in professional sports?"

That last one makes me see red. I turn toward the reporter, a weaselly looking man with a press badge from some gossip rag, and before Jax can stop me, I'm talking.

"I think anyone who can play at Darren's level belongs wherever the fuck they want to be," I snap, my voice carrying over the noise.

"His designation doesn't change the fact that he's one of the best defensemen in the league.

Or are you too busy sniffing around for scandal to actually watch the games? "

The reporter's mouth opens and closes like a fish. Someone laughs, another reporter, maybe, and then everyone's shouting questions at once.

"Is that confirmation of a relationship?"

"How long have you been involved with the pack?"

"What's your name?"

"Aren't you afraid you'll be pushed out of a pack that already has an omega?"

Holy shit, these people are vultures.

Aidan steps forward, partially blocking me from view. "Back off," he growls, and there's a bark-adjacent edge in his voice that makes the crowd step back instinctively. They're probably also recalling what he just did on the ice.

"Keep moving," Jax murmurs in my ear, but I catch the hint of approval in his voice.

We push through the crowd, security finally getting their shit together and creating a clearer path. The SUV is visible now, idling at the curb with its engine running. Just a few more yards.

"Aidan! Aidan! How do you justify nearly killing a man?"

"Morris was facing an omega in heat! Don't you think?—"

Aidan stops so abruptly I nearly run into his back. He turns to face the reporter who asked that last question, and the look on his face makes my blood run cold. This is the same expression he wore before he destroyed Morris.

"Morris," he says, his voice deadly quiet but somehow carrying over the crowd, "was about to assault our teammate. An omega in a vulnerable state. If you think that's acceptable, then you're part of the fucking problem."

"But the violence?—"

"Would have been ten times worse if Morris had gotten what he wanted," I interject, surprising myself with my boldness. "Or do you think omegas in heat are fair game? Is that the story you're pushing?"

The reporter, a blonde woman with too much makeup and predatory eyes, focuses on me. "And who are you, exactly?"

"Someone who thinks you should be more concerned about an alpha who lost control at the scent of an omega than about the alpha who protected his packmate," I shoot back.

"Because if he's a danger to omegas on the ice, he's a danger to omegas off of it, too.

But I guess that doesn't sell papers, does it? "

She looks like she's about to respond, but then she's stopped short.

"Enough," Jax says, his bark cutting through the noise. "We're done here."

He guides us the final few feet to the SUV, practically lifting me into the backseat.

Aidan follows, slamming the door hard enough to rattle the windows.

Jax slides into the front passenger seat, and the driver, someone who works for the team, judging by his Grizzlies jacket, peels away from the curb.

The sudden quiet is almost overwhelming. My hands are shaking, adrenaline making my whole body vibrate. Outside the tinted windows, I can see reporters still chasing us, cameras flashing uselessly against the dark glass.

"Holy fuck," I breathe, slumping back against the leather seat. "Is it always like that?"

"No," Jax says, turning to look at me. "Tonight they're extra. But it could be worse."

I laugh, slightly hysterical. "Worse? How could it possibly be worse?"

"You handled yourself well," he says, and the approval in his voice makes warmth bloom in my chest. "Quick thinking with those responses."

"She was fucking brilliant," Aidan adds, grinning despite everything. "Did you see that reporter's face when you called her out? Priceless."

"I just..." I run a hand through my hair, trying to process what just happened. "They were talking about Darren like he's some kind of liability. Like being an omega makes him less than. It pissed me off."

"Good," Jax says simply. "That protective instinct? That's pack."

His phone buzzes, and he checks it quickly. "Zayn. They're out. On their way to the rental."

Relief floods through me so intensely I feel lightheaded. "Thank God. Is he okay?"

"As okay as he can be," Jax says carefully. "Heat is... intense. Especially when suppressants fail. His body's been fighting his biology for a while now, and now it's demanding payment."

"Will he be alright?" I ask, worry gnawing at my insides. "I mean, physically?"

"He'll be fine," Aidan assures me. "Uncomfortable as fuck for a few days, but fine. The bigger concern is..." He trails off, exchanging a look with Jax.

"Is what?" I demand. "Don't start keeping secrets now."

"The psychological impact," Jax says after a moment. "Darren's spent all this time trying to prove he can still compete as an omega. Tonight probably felt like a very public failure to him."

"But it wasn't his fault," I protest. "The suppressants?—"

"Logic doesn't matter when you're dealing with this kind of thing," Aidan says quietly. "Trust me. The shame spiral is real."

The city lights blur past as we leave downtown behind.

The rental is outside the city proper, isolated enough to provide privacy.

My mind is tangled chaos, trying to figure out how to help Darren through this.

How to make him understand that nothing's changed, that he's still the same person who makes my heart skip and my body ache.

"What can I do?" I ask finally. "To help him?"

"Just be there," Jax says. "That's more than enough."

"And maybe help with nesting," Aidan adds. "Omegas in heat have a powerful urge to nest. Having the right materials, the right scents... it helps."

Nesting. I've read about it, of course, but I've never actually seen it. The idea of Darren creating a safe space, of potentially letting me help... it appeals to me on a level I don't quite understand.

The rest of the drive passes in relative quiet. I text Jessica to let her know I'm okay, since she's definitely seen the news by now, and try to prepare myself for what's waiting at the rental. An omega in heat.

My omega in heat.

No, not mine. Not officially. But the way my body responds to just the thought of him, the way every instinct screams to comfort and be at his side…

Fuck. I've got it bad.