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Chapter

Forty-Six

DARREN

T he locker room smells like alphas and pre-game hype, which is nothing out of the ordinary. Only tonight, there's an extra layer to it. Tonight, the whole fucking world is watching to see if an omega can really play in the NHL or if Vancouver was just a fluke.

My hands are steady as I lace up my skates, muscle memory taking over while my mind spirals. The suppressants are doing their job, keeping my scent muted, keeping the omega instincts at bay. But they can't suppress the knowledge that this game decides everything.

"You good, Brick?" Jax asks, cutting through my spiral.

I look up to find all four of my alpha packmates watching me. They're already suited up, looking like the warriors they are, ready to go to battle. For me. At my side.

"Yeah," I say, and I'm surprised to find I mean it. "Just ready to get out there and show these fuckers what an omega can do."

Zayn grins. "That's our boy."

The banter settles me. This is just another game. I've played hundreds of them. The only difference is that this time, everyone knows what I am. No more hiding, no more pretending. Just me, my stick, and the ice.

The pressure is off and on at once.

"Anyone seen Lexie?" I ask as we line up in the tunnel. The roar of the crowd is already deafening, and we haven't even stepped out yet.

"She said she'd be here," Aidan offers, bouncing on his skates with his usual pre-game energy. "Just not in the VIP box."

Right. The surprise. I've been trying not to think about it, but now that we're minutes from taking the ice, I can't help scanning the stands visible from the tunnel.

Where is she? What could she possibly have planned that required giving up her usual seat where she's comfortable and sequestered from the rest of the fans?

"Relax," Zayn says, bumping my shoulder. "Our girl will show."

"I know," I mutter, still searching the crowd. "Just curious."

"Malloy!" Coach Mitchell's voice booms down the tunnel. "Stop rubbernecking and get ready. You've got a game to play."

He's right. I force myself to focus, to push thoughts of Lexie and her mystery surprise to the back of my mind. I need to play my ass off tonight. The whole world is watching, waiting to see if I'll crack under the pressure, if the omega will fold when things get tough.

They're about to learn that The Brick doesn't fold for anyone.

The tunnel lights dim, and the announcer's voice echoes through the arena. My heart pounds as they call our names, one by one. When they get to mine, I expect boos. Maybe some cheers from our die-hard fans, but mostly negativity from people who think omegas don't belong on the ice.

What I don't expect is the explosion of sound that greets my name.

I step onto the ice and freeze.

The entire arena is a sea of orange and black jerseys.

No… not just generic Grizzlies jerseys.

My jersey. 47. Malloy. Over and over, as far as I can see.

"What the fuck?" I breathe, turning in a slow circle to take it all in.

The crowd is on their feet, cheering and screaming and waving signs I can't quite make out from ice level. The noise is incredible, overwhelming, like nothing I've ever experienced in my career.

"Holy shit," Aidan says beside me, and he's pointing up at the stands. "Look."

I follow his gesture and my breath catches.

A massive banner is being raised along the upper deck. Orange fabric with bold black letters that seem to scream a single phrase across the arena.

PLAY LIKE AN OMEGA.

The Jumbotron flickers to life, and there she is.

Lexie, holding one end of the banner with her sister Jessica on the other side.

Luke's there too, and what looks like hundreds of other fans, all wearing my jersey, all cheering like maniacs.

The camera zooms in on Lexie's face, and she's glowing. Radiant. Proud.

My throat tightens dangerously.

"Guess we know what that surprise was," Jax says with a chuckle, skating up beside me. But even his usual composure cracks a little as he takes in the scene. "She really went all out."

"You picked one hell of a woman, Darren," Dmitri rumbles, and there's unmistakable pride in his voice.

I can't take my eyes off the screen as it pans across the crowd. There are omegas with signs that say " We Belong Here Too " and " Designation Doesn't Define Talent ." Alphas wearing shirts that say " Real Alphas Support Omega Athletes ." Betas with " Pack Stands Together " painted on their faces.

"Yeah," I manage, my voice rough. "I sure as fuck did."

The ref skates over, probably to tell us to get our asses in position, but even he looks a little stunned by the display. "Hell of a showing, Malloy," he says quietly. "Now let's play some hockey."

Right. Hockey. I can do that.

I take my position, stick on the ice, muscles coiled and ready. The energy from the crowd pulses through me like electricity. They're here for me. For us. To show the league that the world is ready for change.

I'm not going to let them down.

The puck drops and everything else fades away.

This is where I belong. This is what I was born to do. The ice beneath my skates, the stick in my hands, the chaos of powerful, athletically honed bodies in motion. This is what I fucking do.

The first period is a blur of perfect passes and bone-jarring checks.

Every time I touch the puck, the crowd explodes.

Every hit I make, every play I break up, they're on their feet.

It should be distracting, but instead, it feeds me.

This is my territory. My ice. And everyone in this arena knows it.

We're playing like men possessed.

No, that's not right. We're playing like a pack .

There's none of our usual power struggles, no jockeying for position or glory.

Jax feeds Zayn a pass that would normally be too risky, trusting him completely.

Zayn actually passes to Aidan instead of taking a low-percentage shot.

Dmitri and I move like we share a brain, covering each other's zones without having to communicate.

And Aidan in net? He's a fucking wall. Nothing gets past him.

The other team tries to get in my head. Their center makes a comment about omegas belonging in the kitchen, not on the ice. Five minutes later, I lay him out with a hit so clean and devastating that his own teammates wince.

"How's the ice feel from down there?" I ask as I skate past. "Bet it's real comfy for someone who plays like a junior leaguer."

Zayn barks out a laugh as he steals the puck from their scrambling defense. "The Brick's back."

"Never went anywhere," I grumble half-heartedly, getting into position.

The game is close. They're good, I'll give them that. But we're better. We're not just five individual players tonight. We're a five-headed beast tearing up the ice.

Second period, I intercept a pass at our blue line and see an opening. Instead of the safe play, dumping it in and chasing, I take off. The crowd rises as I split their defense, deking around one guy, then another. Their goalie comes out to challenge, and time slows.

Lexie's image in my mind gives me that final push.

I snap the puck five-hole, threading it between the goalie's pads like it's on a magnetic line.

Goal .

The arena fucking erupts.

My teammates mob me, and I can barely hear their shouts over the crowd. But I see Lexie on the Jumbotron again, jumping up and down, screaming her head off. Jessica's hugging her, and Luke looks like he might cry.

"That's how a fucking omega plays hockey!" Aidan shouts in my ear.

"Damn right," I growl back.

The rest of the game passes in flashes. Dmitri scores off my assist. Jax nets one on a power play. Zayn, not to be outdone, dangles through three guys for a highlight-reel goal. We're not just winning. We're dominating.

But the other team doesn't quit. With five minutes left, the crowd's energy shifts, anxiety creeping in. This is where they expect the omega to crack, to wilt under pressure.

Instead, I dig deeper.

Every shift, I leave everything on the ice.

Blocking shots with my body, winning battles in the corners through sheer will.

My lungs burn and my muscles scream, but I keep going.

Because this is bigger than me. This is for every omega who's been told they're not strong enough, not tough enough, not alpha enough to chase their dreams.

And for our sweet, perfect Lexie. A beta who thought no one would ever value her the way they would an omega.

It's time to show the world designation and fate aren't one and the same.

The final minute of the game. They've pulled their goalie, six attackers bearing down on us. The puck bounces dangerously in our zone. I see their winger loading up for a one-timer that Aidan might not be able to stop.

I don't think. I just move.

The puck hits me square in the chest, knocking the wind out of me. But I control it, spin, and fire it the length of the ice into their empty net.

Game over.

My teammates pile on me, a tangle of sweaty gear and pure joy. The crowd is beyond deafening now, forty thousand people losing their minds. Through the chaos, I hear Coach coming over.

"Hell of a game, Malloy," he says, offering his hand. "You play like that every night, I don't give a fuck what your designation is."

"Thanks," I manage, shaking his hand firmly.

Even the other team's players come over, offering congratulations and respect. It's not everyone, there are still some assholes who skate off without a word. But it's enough. It's a start.

As soon as the handshake line is done, I scan the crowd for Lexie. She's made her way down to the glass, right against the barrier, still holding part of that banner. Her face is streaked with tears, but she's smiling so bright it could power the whole arena.

I skate over, not caring about protocol or cameras or any of that shit. I need to get to my girl.

"Lexie!" I shout over the noise.

She presses against the glass, and I mirror her, putting my glove flat against where her hand rests. The barrier between us has never felt more solid, more frustrating.

"You were incredible!" she yells, though I mostly read her lips. "I'm so proud of you!"

"That was one hell of a surprise, gorgeous," I say with a grin, gesturing up toward the VIP box before I add, "Meet me?"

I know Coach is gonna want us to talk to the media after this, and I will. We need to capitalize on tonight's momentum if we're going to convince the league, but right now, the most important thing in the world is holding my mate.