Chapter 19
Three weeks later and I’m pretty sure I’ve never been this happy and this terrified at the same time.
We made it to the championship, my sorry ass standing outside arrivals at the airport bouncing on my toes like a kid on too much sugar.
My phone is in my hand, refreshing Camila’s flight status for the tenth time even though it already says “landed.”
The sliding doors open and there she is, tall and sleek in her usual all-black travel outfit, rolling a carry-on behind her like she owns the terminal. The second she spots me her sharp face cracks into that feral Reyes grin.
I bolt across the tile and slam into her for a hug so hard we almost take out a luggage cart.
“Little brother,” she laughs, squeezing me back just as fiercely. “You look like you’re about to explode. Calm down before you pop a claiming bite open.”
I pull back, still grinning like an idiot, and tug my collar down just enough to show off the two marks on my throat. “Not gonna happen. They’re already healed.”
Camila stares for three full seconds, then nods once like she’s sizing up a business deal. “Good. About time someone permanently claimed your chaotic ass.”
We head toward the car, her arm slung around my shoulders, and I talk a mile a minute the whole way, about the team, about the dean’s failed attempts to ruin our lives, about how Sol and Roxie are mine now and I’m never letting them go.
Camila just listens, occasionally interjecting with a dry “you absolute menace” or “I’m proud of you, idiot. ”
When we pull up to the arena parking lot, Sol and Roxie are already waiting by the side entrance. I introduce them like it’s the most normal thing in the world. “Camila, this is Sol. My… Alpha. Coach. Mate. All of the above.”
Sol extends a hand, though Camila ignores it completely. She sizes Sol up for three long seconds, her eyes flicking from the braid to the tattoo sleeve to the quiet confidence that radiates off her, then nods once. “Finally,” she says, and pulls Sol into a hug instead.
Sol looks momentarily stunned, then hugs her back with a quiet laugh.
With Roxie, Camila doesn’t even let her extend a hand. She just yanks her into a crushing hug, too.
“Roxie Calloway,” Camila says against her shoulder. “I’ve heard a lot about you. Mostly, you make my brother shut up sometimes. I like you already.”
Roxie huffs a surprised laugh and hugs her back. “He’s still a handful.”
“Tell me about it.”
I stand there pretending to be embarrassed, but the bond is humming so loud in my chest I can barely keep the grin off my face. Camila pulls back and looks at all three of us. “You two are good for him. He’s been a lot happier. I’d say welcome to the Reyes family but... our dad’s kind of an ass.”
Sol’s mouth twitches. “Noted.”
The arena is already packed as we head inside.
The entire Knotlocke chaos family has claimed an entire section near the front, Parker front and center with Fox and Arlo flanking her like bodyguards.
Even some of the other teams have shown up to support, a few faces in the crowd I recognize but not many.
Camila fits right in. Within five minutes, she’s trading insults with Milo and making Parker laugh so hard she snorts. I just turn my attention toward the mats, focusing on the woman’s team because Roxie’s up first.
I jump up so fast the seat clatters behind me, screaming her name until my throat feels raw.
“Roxie! Come on, baby—let’s fucking go!” The words rip out of me, lost somewhere in the roar of the crowd.
She’s a force of nature in that red fight gear, her ponytail swinging like a weapon as she stalks forward.
When the ref throws up his hand to start the match, she explodes.
The first thirty seconds are pure violence, clean strikes snapping the other girl’s head back, a takedown so smooth it looks choreographed.
Roxie flows straight into mount, isolates an arm, spins, and sinks the guillotine so deep the ref barely has time to react before her opponent taps out.
In thirty-eight seconds, my Alpha already beat her opponent.
No wonder she said I never stood a chance against her.
The entire Knotlocke section loses their collective minds as she throws her arms up in victory, my scream getting lost in the chaos. Camila just looks up at me, laughing at my enthusiasm. A few feet down, Sol is watching, pride radiating through the bond.
Roxie stalks off the mat, sweat glistening on her skin, as her eyes find mine immediately through the chaos. That half-smirk appears on her face just for me, the one that still makes my stomach flip even after all this time. I step toward her when the announcer calls my name.
Camila squeezes my hand once, then shoves me toward the floor with a grin. “Go get ‘em, little brother.”
I stand up, crack my neck, and jog toward the mat. Sol is already waiting at the edge, looking every bit the coach, even though her eyes are soft when they land on me. I point at her, still buzzing.
“You said no public stuff!”
Sol doesn’t even hesitate. She grabs my face with both hands, pulls me in, and kisses me square on the mouth right there in front of the entire arena. It’s a claiming all on its own, her thumbs brushing down along my neck like she’s reminding the whole world who I belong to.
She pulls back just enough to speak against my lips. “You’re graduating. What are they going to do, fire me?”
I laugh against her mouth, still grinning like an idiot when she shoves me onto the mat with a firm hand between my shoulder blades.
I wrestle like my life depends on it. The first opponent goes down fast and I shoot in low, drive him to the mat, and pin him clean in under a minute. The second one is tougher. He sprawls hard, trying to stall, but I reverse him twice, scramble to top position, and come out on top by four points.
The final match goes the full distance. We’re tied heading into the last thirty seconds.
I can feel Sol and Roxie watching from the corner, their belief in me pulsing through the bond.
I shoot low one last time, desperate to win, and manage to get behind him.
I drive him down, my chest to his back, and hold the pin as the buzzer sounds.
One point.
The ref’s hand goes up, signifying my win as the crowd explodes a second time.
I’m still buzzing, adrenaline singing in my veins, when I climb off the mat shaking and sweaty.
I look up just in time to see Roxie’s hand raised on the other mat at the same time, working through her second win.
Camila is cheering louder than half the arena, Sol standing between both mats with the smallest, proudest smile I have ever seen on her face.
The rival fans in the section next to us are talking shit about the last call, obnoxiously loud. I lean over the railing, sweat dripping down my back, and start mouthing off right back.
“Yo, that was a clean pin, you blind bastards! Cry harder!”
One of the Westridge guys stands up. “Sit down, pretty boy!”
“Make me, asshole!” I yell, grinning like a maniac.
“That call was dogshit, and you know it!”
Sol sighs as she stalks over to me and drags me back to the bench. I catch the muttered words through the bond and the noise: “I give up. Thank fuck this is his last year.”