26. Sabs
TWENTY-SIX
Sabs
Who knew that watching hockey could be so exhilarating?
I can see now why having to give it up must have been such a blow to Luca.
The arena is buzzing with excitement, hundreds of eyes tracking the puck and players as they shove and push.
Gasps, cheers, and words of encouragement reverberate around the stands.
I wipe my forehead with the back of my hand. Despite the chill of the rink, I’m burning up from all my cheering. I peel off my hoody before returning to yelling, with Izzie, in support of Adler.
I keep my eyes locked on him as he expertly handles the puck, aggressively shoving past a brute in yellow.
“Go, go, go!” I scream, jumping to my feet as he shoots across the ice, heading for the net.
I feel all his emotions, so it’s like I’m down there with him. He’s not in a frantic state of panic; he’s driven purely by determination and adrenaline. If he scores, I’m giving him a victory prize that he’ll never forget.
A chorus of wild roars vibrates through the rink as the Foxes supporters rise, the outcome of the game hanging by a thread. Right now, they’re tied with only one minute left on the clock. If Adler scores, they win!
Even Drax seems to be invested in the game.
After eating his way through a mountain of snacks, he growled when a defender pulled a late hit on Corbin—a dirty move that left Corbin hobbling.
I spotted Nia sitting in another section, screaming in objection.
I make a mental note to check in with her soon.
I want to know what’s brewing between the two of them, but I haven’t spoken to her since Corbin told us they were going on a date.
“You’ve got this, Addy!” Izzie shrieks, filming the moment on her cell phone. “Keep going!”
“Ace! Ace! Ace!” Pride fills me as the crowd chants my alpha’s name.
His blades glide over the ice with the elegance of a dancer, but he reminds me of a shark, ready to take out anyone and anything that stands in his way.
He maneuvers around the players, protecting the puck like his life depends on it.
The “Ace” chant begins to feel like a drumbeat, hammering against my ribs.
A wave of nauseating dizziness hits me. Maybe it’s all the excitement.
I drop my hands, gripping the seat in front of me as the world seems to tilt, and my vision swims. The chanting bodies around me morph into a blurry orange wave, the fox mascot becoming a flickering smudge at the edges of my sight.
And then, the bottom drops out of my stomach.
“Sabs?” Drax’s heavy arms are suddenly around my waist, holding me up. “What is it?”
He smells incredible, like fresh laundry and juicy peaches that I want to sink my teeth into.
When I look up at him, it’s as if I’ve been dying of thirst yet have suddenly found a river.
My perfume floods the air, an overripe cherry that’s so powerful it cuts through the smell of greasy food, making me momentarily question whether I actually applied my scent blocker.
I relish in Drax’s touch that elicits a riot of tingles over my skin before my abdomen is hit with an excruciatingly painful stabbing cramp.
“Ouch!” I double over, yelping. Between my legs, a sudden, heavy rush of slick coats my panties. There’s so much of it that I’m pretty sure I’ve soaked through my leggings. Thank fuck I’m wearing black. “Drax…”
The rink erupts in deafening hollering, but I’m too preoccupied to question what they’re celebrating.
“What’s happening?” Drax’s voice jumps an octave, his dark eyebrows pulling together with worry.
The commotion in the crowd around us continues, people jostling and shouting, but something tells me it’s not about the game anymore. The atmosphere has shifted, the palpable tension and unease putting me on edge.
“We need to get her out of here.” Izzie’s sharp voice cuts through the noise. “I think she’s going into heat. Right now.”
“Heat?” Drax repeats, wobbling on his feet. “Here?”
“Can’t you smell it?” Izzie snaps. “Every alpha in this section is about to lose their mind.”
I try to speak, but another cramp has me pausing to catch a breath. I’m clutching my midsection when a low, primal roar comes from the row behind us, causing the hairs on the back of my neck to stand on end.
“Stop him!” someone yells.
My omega instincts go on high alert, sensing a threat. My legs will me to run, but the gnarly pain in my stomach keeps me hunched over, unable to move. Dread coils around my lungs when an unpleasant smell grows closer. Alpha pheromones that definitely do not belong to anyone in the Strike Pack.
“Omega.” I look up to see an alpha leering at me from behind us, his teeth snapping and his eyes blown out into dark, soulless pits. “Mine!”
There’s so much chaos happening around us and bustling bodies that it makes escaping impossible. Drax uses his body as a human shield as the rogue alpha holds up his fists to take him on.
“Hold him back!” Izzie shrieks as surrounding fans try to haul him away from me. He thrashes in their arms like a wild animal. I’ve never seen an alpha go into a rut in public, but the signs are unmistakable: the nonsensical snarling and the terrifying, single-minded focus. Focus that’s set on me.
“B-b-but I’m bonded,” I manage to say while Drax yells instructions at those attempting to restrain him.
“It’s still early days. Your body must still be adjusting,” Izzie explains frantically. “Or you just smell too damn good for his instincts to care. We need to leave.”
I watch in horror as the fans struggle to contain the rutting alpha. As I feared, he somehow manages to wrestle out of their grasp. I can barely breathe as he lunges forward, propelling himself over the seats, bumping straight into Izzie and sending her toppling over onto her side.
“Izzie!” I yell hopelessly, seeing her splayed on the ground.
“Step away from my omega,” a low, rumbling voice commands.
I peer around Drax to see Orin, looking lethal in his black shirt, his jaw set in a determined line.
He grabs the crazed alpha, twisting his arms behind his back with a sickening pop before snapping handcuffs into place.
“This will hold you.” He looks at me, his eyes hooded with his own lust as he catches my scent. “Get her out of here, Drax. Now.”
Izzie’s back on her feet again, looking shell-shocked but mostly okay.
“Are you okay, Izzie?” Right now, she’s my number one concern.
“Don’t worry about me! A little fall isn’t going to keep me down.” She winces as she cradles her wrist. “You need to get out of here.”
“Backup and an escort requested.” Orin puts a finger to his earpiece, barking out orders. “Row twelve, seats eight and nine.”
Drax glances out at the rink where the SVU Foxes appear to be celebrating their win. “What about Adler?”
“We’ll meet you at home,” Orin replies. “Sabs needs to go.”
Luca has also found his way toward us, his face flushed. “Sabs!” He’s obviously concerned, a palm on his chest and a sheen of sweat covering his forehead. “What’s happening?” He inhales deeply, recoiling in what I can only assume is surprise from the sheer potency of my scent. “Oh, shit.”
“Luca, you need to check Izzie’s wrist,” I bite out through my own pain. “She’s hurt.”
“Luca, take Izzie to the medics,” Orin orders. “Drax, move. Now!”
Drax doesn’t hesitate. He scoops me up into his arms then marches through the stands, clutching me tightly to his chest like I’m his most prized possession.
“Drax…” I whimper. “It hurts.”
He strides purposefully, not having to stop when he’s waved through a back exit by Rook.
I gulp in the fresh air, overwhelmed by the brightness of the sun and the heat of its rays as we reach the parking lot.
He races to our car, loading me into the passenger seat with careful tenderness, as if he’s afraid of breaking me.
Despite my discomfort, I can’t help noticing the caution he uses as he fastens my seatbelt, amplifying my hunger.
“Drax… I need—”
“You need to be in your nest,” he states through gritted teeth.
My slick pools on the leather seat beneath me as Drax gets into the driver’s seat and speeds off, tires squealing. His nostrils flare and knuckles turn white. From how his pheromones are going into overdrive, he’s fighting his own biology just to keep his hands on the wheel.
As the car tears through campus, I’m thankful that the roads are ghostly quiet because of the game.
After a few minutes, I can’t stop myself from slipping a hand between my legs, rubbing against the damp fabric of my leggings.
When I let out a needy moan, Drax steals a glance at me, swallowing hard.
“Fuck, Sabs.” His deep, gravelly voice only makes me wetter.
Thankfully, we’re soon pulling onto the driveway, Drax bringing the car to a jarring halt.
He throws opens my door in a heartbeat and doesn’t shut it behind him as he carries me inside like a bride crossing the threshold for the first time.
The moment we’re in the entrance way, the scent of the pack hits me—the smell of safety—and my lungs finally expand fully.
He sprints up to the nest, then I let out a sharp cry before entering. “Sneakers! I don’t want your sneakers in my nest!”
He places me on my feet, grumbling. Obviously, my nest carpet is the last of his concerns as he kicks off his shoes then looks down at me, waiting expectantly. Now that the “rescue” is over, he looks unsure, burying his hands in his pockets as I take off my own shoes.
“Do you want to wait for Adler?”
“Adler?” I wrap my arms around his neck, pulling his face to meet mine. He’s radiating heat like a furnace. “I want you, Drax.”
He kisses me with the enthusiasm of a starving animal, his tongue sweeping through my mouth as he backs me toward the bed. My hands are already under his shirt, clawing at his rippling back muscles, desperate to eradicate the agonizing ache in my core.
“Off!” I pull at his shirt so hard I hear a rip.