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Chapter

Forty-Seven

LEXIE

M y legs shake as I walk the arena corridors, the adrenaline from our coordinated surprise finally catching up with me. Holy shit, we actually pulled it off. The jerseys, the banner, the synchronized chanting—everything went perfectly.

And the look on Darren's face when he saw the entire arena wearing his number? Worth every sleepless night spent knitting and coordinating.

The elevator ride to the VIP level feels endless. My reflection in the polished doors shows a woman I barely recognize, cheeks flushed, eyes bright, wearing Darren's jersey like armor. The marks on my neck peek out from the collar, and I resist the urge to touch them.

Mine.

They're mine, and I'm theirs, and the whole fucking world just saw that everyone has the right to follow their dreams regardless of designation.

The VIP box door is already open when I arrive, the space filled with the excited chatter of other guests celebrating the win. I'm practically shaking with the need to see my pack, to celebrate this monumental victory together.

That's when I freeze.

Because there, lounging in the premium seats like they own the fucking place, is Mark Werner and his new pack.

My ex. The beta who told his friend I was boring, pathetic for thinking I'd ever be enough for anyone. The man I found balls-deep in an omega after years of telling me he loved me.

And of course, she's here too. Tia. The petite blonde omega with the sugar-sweet voice. She's draped across Mark's lap, her possessive hand on his chest, surrounded by three hulking alphas who must be the rest of their pack.

Actually, now I recognize them. Took me a second without the matching sweaters and the cute golden retriever. Too bad they didn't bring him.

My first instinct is to turn around and leave. Find another way to meet my pack, avoid this confrontation entirely. But fuck that. This is my moment, my pack's triumph, and I'm not letting ghosts from my past ruin it.

I pretend not to see them, moving toward the bar to grab a water while I wait for the guys. Maybe if I ignore them hard enough, they'll return the favor.

"Oh my God, Mark, is that her?"

Tia's voice cuts through the celebration like nails on a chalkboard. Of course she noticed me immediately. Omegas and their superior senses.

I keep my back turned, focusing on the bartender who's taking forever to get my water. Maybe if I don't acknowledge them?—

"I guess they'll let anyone in the VIP box these days."

The scoff in her voice makes my shoulders tense.

Every instinct screams at me to turn around and tell her exactly where she can shove her opinions, but I won't give her the satisfaction.

I'm better than that. And I'm marked, claimed, and loved by five incredible men who just proved to the world that biology doesn't determine worth.

I don't need to prove anything to her or Mark or anyone else.

"Lexie?"

Shit . Mark's voice, closer now. He must have gotten up.

I turn slowly, schooling my expression into polite disinterest. He's standing a few feet away, wearing that fake smile I once thought was charming. Now I can see right through it. How the fuck did I ever love this man?

There must have been mold in that damn house.

"Mark." I keep my voice flat, unimpressed. "What are the odds?"

"Pretty low," I say dryly, taking my water from the bartender with a nod of thanks.

"I'm surprised to see you here." His eyes flick to my jersey, to the new marks visible on my neck, and something flashes across his face. Surprise? Jealousy? "We sent you an invitation to the mating ceremony. You never showed."

I stare at him, genuinely stunned by his audacity. He's seriously asking why I didn't attend his mating ceremony? The ceremony celebrating his bond with the omega he cheated on me with?

The truth is, with everything happening with my pack, I'd completely forgotten about his stupid invitation. It had probably gone straight into the trash with the rest of the junk mail when I was cleaning out before the move.

To think, I once spent sleepless nights agonizing over whether I was going to go or not. But I guess that indecision led me to giving Beyond Bonds a shot, which led me to my pack. If there's one thing I can be grateful to Mark for, it's that.

Before I can formulate a response that doesn't include telling him to go fuck himself, Tia appears at his side. She latches onto his arm like I might try to steal him back, her perfectly manicured nails digging into his sleeve.

"I can't believe you're so pathetic."

I balk at her words, turning to face her fully. "Excuse me?"

She tosses her blonde hair, eyes glittering with malice.

"Everyone's heard the rumors about you dating the entire team.

And here you are, like a total stalker." Her gaze travels over my jersey, my appearance, and her lip curls.

"We saw that stunt with your tacky little sign.

It's clear where those rumors come from. "

My mouth opens, but no words come out. I'm genuinely speechless. Stalking? She thinks I'm here stalking Mark?

Or…

It hits me like a slap in the face. She thinks I'm stalking the team. That the entire arena-wide show of support for Darren was some pathetic attempt to... what? Get the attention of the Grizzlies? As if I'd go through all of this just for attention?

I guess that's projection. It makes me want to laugh. Or scream. Or maybe both.

I tell myself she's not worth it. That responding will only feed into whatever twisted narrative she's created. But before I can walk away, I feel a presence behind me.

A large hand settles on my shoulder, warm and possessive, and Darren's deep voice rumbles through me.

"Sure is. Crystal clear. I'm the one who started them." His hand slides down to my waist, pulling me back against his solid chest. "And I'll give you one guess why."

I turn to look up at him, and my breath catches. He's changed out of his gear but still has that post-game glow, hair damp with sweat, eyes bright with victory and…

Possession. Protection.

More than anything else, love.

"The rumors are true," he continues, his gaze never leaving Mark and Tia. "She's mine."

"Ours," Zayn corrects, and I realize the rest of my pack has arrived, filing into the VIP box like an invading army. He looks directly at Tia, then back at me, his dark eyes taking in the marks on my neck with obvious satisfaction. "Were the marks on our girl's neck not clear enough for you?"

Tia's face goes through several shades of red before landing on purple. Her mouth opens and closes like a fish gasping for air, and I can practically see her brain short-circuiting as she processes what's happening.

"You... she... but she's just a beta!" The words explode out of her, making several people turn to stare.

"And?" Dmitri's voice is dangerously low, moving to stand at my other side. "Do you have a problem with that?"

"Who the hell are you, anyway?" Jax demands, cocking an eyebrow as he looms over the pair.

Mark sputters unintelligibly and Tia looks increasingly enraged that he isn't defending her properly, even as her eyes keep flicking over my pack like she can’t believe she isn’t the one on their arms.

"This can't be happening," she says, her voice rising an octave. She sounds like a child who just found out someone else has a better toy.

"She found something better than a cheating beta and his discount pack," Aidan adds cheerfully, but there's an edge to his smile that shows too many teeth. "Shocking, I know."

Tia makes a sound somewhere between a screech and a sob, then turns on her designer heel and flees the VIP box. Mark and the three alphas scramble after her, though two of them have the decency to mumble apologies as they pass.

Mark pauses at the door, looking back at me with an emotion vaguely resembling regret. But I don't care anymore. That chapter of my life is so thoroughly closed it might as well be in a different language.

"Please don't tell me that was actually your ex," Aidan says once they're gone, his nose wrinkled in disgust.

"Yep." I take a long drink of water, suddenly exhausted. "That's him. And the omega I found him with in our bed."

"Birds of a feather fuck together," Jax observes dryly. "Or something like that."

"Or something," I agree, and despite everything, I find myself laughing. Because really, what else can you do when your past tries to ambush you and gets absolutely destroyed by your present?

"Good fucking riddance," Zayn says, pulling me into his arms. "Though I'm insulted they thought they could come onto our turf and talk shit to our mate."

"Seriously," Darren agrees, pressing a kiss to my temple. "We're gonna have to get better security in this place."

One by one, they embrace me, surrounding me with their warmth and scent and my marks hum pleasantly. The encounter with Mark already feels like a distant memory, insignificant compared to the victory we're celebrating.

"Enough about those assholes," Zayn says in his usual gruff fashion.

"Seriously," Darren agrees, clinking his water glass with Zayn's.

"You're very good at keeping secrets," Jax observes, and there's pride in his voice. "That display tonight was incredible."

"I had help," I admit, finally relaxing into their touches.

"A lot of help. The jerseys were my idea, but the fans organized most of it themselves.

Jessica coordinated with the omega support groups, and they spread the word.

" I look up at Darren, making sure he understands.

"You have so much support. More than you know.

If the league had decided to be backwards about the whole omega thing, we probably could have started a whole new league. "

"That won't be necessary."

We all turn at the new voice. Coach Mitchell stands in the doorway, looking tired but satisfied. He's still in his game-day suit, though his tie is loosened and he looks exhausted.

"Coach?" Darren's arm tightens around me.

Mitchell steps into the box, and I notice he's carrying an envelope. An official-looking envelope, with the league seal visible even from here.

"The league has come to a decision," he announces, and I feel all five of my men tense.

"After tonight's display, after seeing the fan support and, more importantly, the level of play on the ice.

.." He pauses, and I want to shake him for the dramatic effect.

"Darren Malloy will be allowed to remain in the league and on the team.

Permanently. No more probation. No more conditions. "

The words hang in the air for a moment before they sink in.

"Fuck yes!" Aidan shouts, fist pumping the air.

Dmitri's rare smile breaks across his face. Jax's shoulders drop with relief. Zayn whoops, pulling Darren into what looks like a crushing hug.

And Darren looks like every dream he’s ever had is coming true.

"You played like hell out there," Mitchell continues, but he's smiling now too. "All of you. Best game I've seen in years."

"We already knew Darren could play better than anyone," Zayn says, clapping the omega on his shoulder. "This was about the fan response."

"That's part of it," Mitchell admits, and his gaze finds mine. "You've got yourself quite a good luck charm there."

Darren laughs, the sound bright and free, and pulls me in for a kiss that makes my toes curl. When we break apart, we're both grinning like idiots.

"We certainly do."

The End.