Chapter 5
Harper
Perfection.
Thirty rows between us should have been enough.
It wasn't.
I could feel his eyes on me the moment I boarded, tracking me down the aisle like a predator watching prey. My skin prickled with awareness, and I kept my gaze firmly on my seat number, refusing to look toward the front of the plane.
"Dr. Graves!" Morrison waved from row 20. "There's a seat up here if you want…"
Hell no, I thought immediately.
"I'm good, thanks," I replied as I practically dove into 32C, yanking my medical bag into my lap like a shield.
The suppressant patch behind my ear itched.
I'd doubled up this morning, one behind each ear, and taken an extra oral supplement.
Away games were always risky. Enclosed spaces, heightened Alpha testosterone, nowhere to escape if things went sideways.
But this was my job, and I'd be damned if Knox Maddox was going to make me bad at it.
Peterson limped past, his jaw still heavily bruised from Knox's fists. He flinched when he saw me, probably remembering what had triggered the beating. I wanted to tell him it wasn't his fault, that Knox was just unhinged, but that would require acknowledging what was happening between us.
What couldn't happen between us.
The plane filled quickly. Players, coaches, support staff. The energy was different than usual, tighter, nervous. Tonight's game against the Colorado Eagles was crucial for playoff positioning, and the forecast was calling for severe weather. Everyone was on edge.
Everyone except Knox, who looked perfectly relaxed in his seat, head tilted back, eyes closed.
At least he wasn't watching me anymore.
I pulled out my tablet, trying to focus on player medical files.
Chen's ribs were still tender. Mitchell had a recurring groin strain I needed to monitor.
Normal, boring medical stuff that definitely didn't require thinking about how Knox had looked two days ago in my office, eyes black with want, one breath from fucking me up against my office wall.
God girl, you were gonna let him take you, I shook my head.
"This seat taken?"
I looked up to find Ben, the team's backup goalie, gesturing to 32B.
Great.
"It's all yours," I said, shifting closer to the aisle.
Ben was one of the few Betas on the team, which made him safe. Neutral. But as he settled in beside me, his expression was troubled.
"You okay?" I asked.
He sighed softly. "Just wondering when someone's going to do something about Maddox."
My stomach clenched. "What do you mean?"
"He's getting worse. That fight with Peterson, now he's stalking around practices like he's going to murder someone." Ben lowered his voice. "Some of the guys think he's going into rut."
"He's not," I said automatically, though I wasn't entirely sure. Knox's control had been fraying for weeks, but rut would explain the increased aggression, the territorial behavior, the way he looked at me like I was gonna be his last meal. He wanted to devour me.
"Then what's his problem?" Ben’s right eyebrow had raised quizzically.
Me. I’m his problem.
"I can't discuss patient information," I said instead. “Confidentiality and all.”
Ben sighed again and nodded in understanding before throwing his head back against the seat he now occupied.
The plane pushed back from the gate, engines humming to life. As we taxied toward the runway, I caught myself glancing toward the front. Knox hadn't moved, still appeared to be sleeping.
Then his head turned slightly, and our eyes met across thirty rows.
Fuck!
My breath caught.
Even from this distance, I could see his jaw clench, could feel the weight of his dark gaze like a physical touch. The patches behind my ears started to burn.
I looked away first, staring determinedly at my tablet as we took off. Seattle disappeared beneath clouds, and I tried to lose myself in medical charts. But concentration was impossible. My skin felt too tight, too warm despite the aggressive air conditioning.
"Ladies and gentlemen, we're getting reports of severe weather at our destination. We may experience some turbulence..."
The pilot's voice faded as another wave of heat washed through me. Something was wrong. Very wrong. The suppressants weren't just feeling weaker, they were failing entirely. I could feel my body fighting against them, my hormones surging despite the pharmaceutical blockers.
No. Not here. Not trapped on a plane with twenty-three hockey players, a good bit of them Alphas.
I excused myself, stumbling toward the bathroom. My legs felt weak, shaky, and I had to grip seat backs to stay upright. Several players looked up as I passed, nostrils flaring slightly.
They could smell it. The change beginning in my body.
The bathroom was barely big enough to turn around in, but I locked myself inside and immediately checked the patches. They were both still in place, but my skin underneath was red, irritated. Rejecting them.
"Fuck fuck fuck," I whispered, splashing cold water on my face.
My heat wasn't due for another week. But stress could trigger it early. Stress like being trapped in an enclosed space with an Alpha who made every cell in my body scream to be claimed.
A knock on the door made me jump.
"Occupied," I called out.
"Harper." Knox's voice, low and urgent. "Open the door."
"Go away."
"I can smell you from my seat.. Every Alpha on this plane can smell you."
My hands gripped the tiny sink. He was right. Without effective suppressants, my pheromones would be flooding the cabin. A plane full of hockey players, testosterone already running high, and me about to go into heat.
This was a disaster.
"I'm fine," I lied.
"You're about to go into heat at thirty thousand feet." His voice dropped lower. "Open the door before someone else decides to check on you."
I cracked the door open, and he immediately pressed inside, forcing me back against the wall. The bathroom wasn't meant for one person, let alone two, and definitely not when one of them was Knox's size. We were pressed together from chest to thigh, his body caging mine completely.
"Your patches are failing," he said, nostrils flaring. "Why?"
"I don't know." My voice came out breathless. This close, his scent was overwhelming pine and smoke and pure Alpha musk that made my core clench with need. "My body just started to reject them, probably due to stress or something."
The plane lurched violently. The lights flickered. We both froze as the pilot's voice crackled over the intercom.
"Folks, we're encountering severe turbulence. Everyone return to your seats immediately."
Knox didn't move. If anything, he pressed closer, one hand bracing against the wall by my head.
"You need to get back to your seat," I said.
"You need suppressants that actually work."
"I have emergency pills in my bag."
Another violent shake. This time, I would have fallen if Knox hadn't caught me, his arm wrapping around my waist. The full contact made us both groan.
"Fuck," he breathed against my neck. "You smell so good. Like heaven."
"Don't." But my hands were fisting in his shirt, pulling him closer instead of pushing him away. "We can't."
"I know." His forehead dropped to mine. "But if your heat hits fully on this plane, with all these Alphas..."
He didn't need to finish. It would be chaos. Dangerous chaos.
"The pills will help," I said, trying to sound confident.
"For how long?" His thumb stroked along my jaw, and I shivered. "We're still two hours from Denver, and that's if this storm doesn't force us to circle."
As if on cue, the pilot's voice returned: "Ladies and gentlemen, Denver is currently experiencing blizzard conditions. We're being diverted to hold pattern until we receive clearance to land. Could be a few hours."
A few hours. Trapped on a plane full of Alphas with my heat threatening to break through.
Knox's eyes had gone completely black. "You're not going to make it that long."
"I have to."
"Let me help." His voice was rough, desperate. "I ca…
"No." I pushed at his chest, and surprisingly, he stepped back. "I'll take the pills, stay in the back, keep distance between me and everyone else."
"Harper…"
I sucked in a hard breath. "Go back to your seat, Knox. Please."
For a moment, I thought he'd refuse. His jaw worked like he was fighting words, fighting instincts, fighting everything. Then he yanked open the door and disappeared, leaving me gasping in the tiny bathroom.
I made it back to my seat on shaking legs. Digging into the medical bag, I found what I was looking for and immediately dry-swallowing three emergency suppressants. Ben looked at me with concern.
"You okay, Doc? You look pale."
"Just airsick," I lied, pulling a blanket up to my chin. "The turbulence..."
But I could feel Knox's eyes on me from first class, could feel my body fighting against the suppressants, could feel the heat building despite everything.
This was going to be the longest flight of my life.
And we hadn't even reached the real storm yet.