Chapter 90
WREN
Music booms around the stadium as the light show pulses, the fire cannons go off, and tens of thousands of Wolves fans scream to urge their team home.
This is the clincher, the cup final, when everything is on a knife’s edge.
New York has brought pure firepower, muscle, and gritty determination. You can see it in their eyes that they want this win.
While the Wolves have just snuck their noses in front with that score, it only gives them a slim points lead. That’s barely enough breathing room. At this stage, deep into the final countdown of the clock to halftime, anything could happen.
I’m terrified.
I’m hanging on to Nikita and Gabbie like I’ll crumble if I let them go.
I’m willing them with everything I’ve got to hang in there.
There’s still a whole half of rugby, forty minutes until they can officially taste victory, and there’s nothing more that I want for my Alphas.
“Not even a whole season could prepare me for this drama,” Nikita screeches.
Gabbie has been deathly silent throughout the game so far.
I’ve been too busy being stressed to talk much either.
Tonight, I wanted to be on the sidelines with the girls for the match. While I know I could hide away in Theo’s VIP suite, there’s something so much more powerful about being this close to the pitch. It feels right to be here, and a little full circle to the first match we watched together.
I’m here for my pack, I’m here for my brother, and I refuse to let anything get in the way of me showing them the fullest extent of support they deserve.
Besides, Lark has been on my ass about texting sideline updates and photos, so I’ve virtually had to livestream the game to her and my aunt’s pack back at home.
The Wolves have possession, but all it takes is a fumble on the halfway line. Our number ten drops the ball cold, knocking it forward. He’s not having a good time out there tonight, with simple mistakes piling up.
What follows is an agony of minutes that are eaten up by scrum resets, until the siren goes for halftime.
“Christ on a fucking bike, are you serious?” Nikita wheezes. “Don’t tell me they’re going to run it? Tighten up, boys, don’t let them score!” She yells orders into the night sky, joining in with the din of Wolves fans all screaming much the same instructions.
As nervous as I am, it makes a tiny smile appear that she’s become rugby’s number one fangirl since we first met, taking to the sport like a duck to water… or maybe that should be an Omega to short shorts and muscular thighs.
To all of our relief, the New York player kicks the ball dead, choosing to give their team an opportunity to rest, reset, and head to the locker rooms.
“Phew. I need a fucking drink to settle my nerves.” Nikita puffs out her cheeks. “C’mon, Gee Gee, let’s get our supplies for the second half.”
“I’m gonna race upstairs to see Theo for a minute.
” We had agreed I would go to find him during the break, since we knew it wouldn’t be a good idea to be seen watching the match together.
Flashing the swipe card he gave me before the game, I follow them as we squeeze along our row of seats.
“Want me to bring anything back from the VIP catering, since you don’t have your usual dainty finger food on tap? ” I tease.
“How many mini quiches can you stuff in your purse?” Nikita grins.
“I’ll bring you back a veritable leaning tower of fancy cheese and pastry.”
“That’s my girl.” She blows me a kiss, and we part ways.
I wave over my shoulder, then dart down the access way beneath the stands. All eyes are on the halftime entertainment, the scrum for refreshments, or the queues for the bathrooms. People mill everywhere as I dip and weave my way toward the elevators.
This route takes me past the location where they hold the media stand-ups after the match, and perilously close to where the coaching staff has their offices—a location I very much wish to avoid after my experience with going into heat in front of Coach Robinson—but Theo assured me that at this time during a final, there will be nothing to worry about.
Everyone’s focus will be turned toward the field, discussion over how the first half unfolded, and the players themselves in the locker room.
A few voices echo down the halls, and boisterous laughter bounces off the stadium’s concrete, but I reach the elevator without trouble.
With a swipe of my card to gain access to the level with the boxes and VIP bar, I bounce on my toes and check my phone.
If worst comes to worst, I can stay with Theo for the rest of the game, but I’m determined to make it back in time to meet Nikita and Gabbie at our seats.
“Well, if it isn’t Wren Murphy.” The drawling voice behind me isn’t exactly familiar, but it makes the fine hairs on the back of my neck stand up.
I hit the elevator button a few times, pretending not to hear, willing the light showing which floor it currently sits on to move faster, but it doesn’t.
“You’re a sneaky one, disappearing down here like lightning. Been calling your name this whole time.”
When I spin around, the two people closing in on me are absolutely not who I wish to engage with right now.
“Gareth Chumley.” The dickface reporter.
I recognize him immediately, and a queasy sensation rolls in my stomach at the prospect of why he’s followed me down here.
“This is my sister, Andrea.” The girl beside him is the box-dye job clone who I saw from a distance on the arm of my ex at the gala fundraiser.
“What a coincidence, running into you here.” Chumley bares his teeth as he gives me a sharkish smile. “Didn’t think you had media access, but looks like I was wrong.”
“I really have to go.” I smash the elevator button again, internally cursing its slowness to arrive.
“We see you at every game, and you’re always with the players. Your brother is on track to replace the current captain, if rumors are true.” Chumley tilts his head to one side. “Yet, from what I’ve been able to identify, you’re nothing but an Omega scholarship pity handout? Correct?”
Nothing about this feels like it is a chance encounter.
I feel like I just walked into a trap.
“Did you follow me?” I do my best to keep my voice calm. The last thing I want is for Atlas or Connor to sense something down our bond.
“Think of this…” Chumley waves a hand in the air.
“Like my area of special interest. Sniffing out Omegas who have found themselves where they don’t belong.
And if my suspicions are correct about you, Wren Murphy, that would put you in breach of your scholarship,” he tuts.
“Engaging in relations with either college-level or professional players is a big no-no, but you already know that, don’t you? ”
I’m officially cornered. As the two of them block my way of escape, I’m trying my hardest not to give anything away, even while being threatened so openly like this.
“Of course, it would be an Omega getting in the way.” His sister, Andrea, sneers at me and blows her gum into a bubble before snapping it.
“Not even my editor, Coco Francis, would listen. Apparently, she ‘knows you’ from the rescue dog thing. Everyone in this godforsaken town seems to be under your spell. She refused to follow up on the anonymous tip we received from a member of the public, but I don’t buy it for one second that there isn’t a story here.
” She points a neon orange lacquered fingernail at me.
Oh, so she’s a reporter also? Everything feels like it starts to click into place about my ex being friends with these people.
The way her upper lip curls as she says the word anonymous makes my skin crawl. I’d bet anything that these two, probably my ex also, are the ones behind the information being leaked to the gossip sites and the tip-off sent in to the Wolves board.
Sweet relief floods my veins when the elevator dings at my back.
“Look, I have no idea what you’re insinuating here, but I have somewhere to be,” I say calmly and step through the metal door.
As quickly as I can, with trembling hands, I swipe the card to activate the panel and select Theo’s floor.
I’m so close and yet so far, and while I can’t do anything to prevent them from getting in and riding in this small box with me, at least once we get to the upper levels, security guards can take over for me.
Hopefully, they can get themselves slapped with a lifetime ban.
But there’s a sudden jolt, and the door won’t close. Chumley’s foot wedges against the elevator to keep it open.
My stomach knots itself.
Andrea leans in and turns the lanyard hanging around my neck over.
Her eyes bounce over Theo’s name, and something dangerous sparks in her eyes.
“Oh, Wren. This is even more fucked up than I imagined. Gareth, would you look at this?” She flicks the card and makes a disapproving noise.
“Here we thought you might have been slutting your way around the team… but Theo Brennan? Brett’s father?
How gross can you Omegas be? Nothing like jumping on whatever dick you can, huh? ”
“First, you cost us an opportunity to get Atlas Palamo to give a proper interview,” Chumley says.
“Then, you got totally in the way of us successfully getting Renfro on board.”
“What—What do you mean?” I don’t think I want to know the answer to this.
“He’s a full-of-himself Alpha, who only would have needed a simple opportunity to know what he truly wanted.” She looks me up and down with disdain.
“Why are you doing this? I’ve done nothing to either of you.”
That makes them laugh. “Omegas really are just so pathetic. Always crying like you’re hard done by. Yet you get the jobs and the scholarships and the special treatment. You do it all with those crocodile tears while bleeding your packmates dry.”
Chumley sucks his teeth. “I’m running an exposé on your kind. The real truth.”