Chapter 32
Chapter
Thirty-Two
Cade
The stress of the protests and keeping the deltas and my omega safe were already wearing on me. Like usual, she came to the arena with us, heading straight for her kitchen. We had a security guard stationed outside and more posted throughout the employee hallways.
There were more and more of the protesters outside as the weeks wore on. The picket signs and chants directed at the deltas were full of accusations. They were always talking about keeping the alphas safe, like we couldn’t manage that on our own.
Lana was right. This felt crazy, all stemming from some jealous fan who decided to take pictures out of context.
It just went to show how dangerous the internet could be.
I worried the stands would be empty. Nobody wanted to fight through a crowd just to see a game.
It didn’t help that tonight we were facing off against the Narwhals again. It was one of our final games before playoffs to see who would take the AHA Cup.
The Narwhals had won it last year, but I was determined not to let them have it again. Not after everything they’d done.
Tonight, though, we’d have to be extra careful and ensure that we didn’t give into the urge to smash them against the ice again. The rumors were already brutal, and that would only add fuel to the fire.
As team captain, I knew my pack deltas weren’t the only ones under scrutiny. Coach had a big meeting with everyone yesterday, going over protocols and ensuring no one took risks. I was positive there was a warning buried in there somewhere, reminding us that we had to be on our best behavior.
The board was absolutely watching, though they’d been oddly quiet so far.
I had a feeling they were waiting to see if this was going to die down or if it was something they’d be forced to address. I’d be far more worried if we didn’t have Coach backing us as strongly as he did.
If anyone was going to advocate for us, it would be him.
Everyone was already geared up in the locker room, but the mood was off. I didn’t like it. This wasn’t how the Wardens were.
“Listen up, Wardens. We know this entire situation is shit,” I said, not bothering to hold back the truth.
“But it doesn’t have to cost us this game.
We are going to fight clean and strong like we always do.
They don’t get to turn our teammates into monsters, and we are not going to prove them right.
We will win this because we are that good, because we trained that hard, and because we fought for our place on this team. ”
The guys were locked in now, nodding along. I had a feeling they needed to hear this.
“This game determines whether we stay in the playoff lineup. We’ve come too far to lose it all now. We are the Wardens, and we’re going to show the Narwhals that we don’t have to fight dirty to kick their asses.”
Several cheers rang out as I finished the pep talk. I never thought I was good at them, but this time I was motivated. Even Mason and Lennon, who had been fairly stoic until now, were amped up and joining the battle cry.
“It’s time,” Coach called, sending us through the tunnel and onto the ice.
Music was already blaring through the arena speakers, the announcers discussing the protests outside. Then our names were called. We skated a lap around the ice, letting the cheers build, adrenaline coursing through me as I realized the fans were still here for us despite everything going on.
Even though the gossip had tried to bring us down, we could still feel the support we’d worked hard to earn.
The Narwhals took the ice next. Of course, they earned the complementary boos you get from being the away team. It still felt satisfying, knowing how much I hated their first-line.
By the time the puck dropped, the crowd was deafening. We usually filled the rink during the final games of the season, but this was more than ever. I refused to believe they were here for the drama and not our team.
As the two starting lineups faced off at center ice, I snagged the puck off the drop and took off down the ice. This was my turf. I wasn’t about to be embarrassed here.
We worked as a unit. I fed off the energy of my pack through the bond, and soon we were burying the puck in the net.
The first goal of the game was always satisfying.
We kept that momentum until Coach called us for a line change.
Just as I was racing back across the ice, the crowd started spilling onto it, blocking the way.
They were sliding around like baby colts taking their first steps, falling on their asses and to their knees because they didn’t have skates.
The game came to a dead stop, announcers shouting as security streamed out in droves. It was pure chaos.
I didn’t know what the hell they were thinking or how things had gotten so out of control. How had they even gotten onto the ice? Arena security was supposed to be top-notch, but someone had failed.
Coach ushered us back through the tunnel, and the Narwhals’ coach did the same. Police were already on the way, and the game was officially postponed.
We were supposed to have some of the best security in the league, yet it didn’t seem to matter.
“What the fuck was that?” Murphy demanded.
Even Coach looked shaken. He opened his mouth, then closed it again. “Your guess is as good as mine. That never should’ve happened.”
There was nothing else to say. The game was already canceled.
Instead of heading for the showers like the rest of the team, I hurried after Lennon toward the kitchen.
Lana was standing there. It looked like she’d tried to start cooking, but she was frozen in front of the TV.
We moved to her side and watched with her.
The footage showed the protesters spilling onto the ice, halting the game, then the police attempting to drag them out with the help of arena security.
“It escalated enough that the board has no choice but to make a statement. They’re calling for a press conference now,” she explained.
“Good. They need to defend us,” Lennon said.
I didn’t argue, but I also didn’t trust that they would.
Lana swallowed hard. “I need to go to my mom’s. I need to see what my dads have to say about this, make sure they’re going to speak up on our behalf.”
“I’m sure Conrad had the same thought,” I said gently. “Come on. You can clean up tomorrow. Tonight is not the night to linger. We’re already going to have to sneak out the back.”
She nodded without hesitation. I loved that she trusted us to take the lead when it mattered.
The others were already heading our way. I hurried into the locker room to shower and change, grabbing Conrad along the way. Security escorted us out back.
I’d never been escorted out of our arena before, but even the gated private parking didn’t feel safe anymore.
Not when people had been able to throw themselves onto the ice and stop our game.
“Word is they’re going to have a meeting to decide whether deltas and betas are allowed to stay,” Conrad said quietly.
“They can’t do that,” Wilder growled, but panic was rising in his eyes. “Are your parents really going to have enough leverage to change the board’s mind?”
“My dads hold three board seats,” Lana said firmly. “They have a voice, and they’re going to use it.”
“You don’t have a delta dad,” Lennon pointed out.
“No,” she said, her determination staying steady. “But I have two delta mates.”
“That they don’t know about,” Conrad added.
“Well,” Lana said, lifting her chin. “I hope you guys are ready to meet the parents.”
The pack bond flared with a mix of unease and resolve. I sent reassurance through it, even if I wasn’t fully feeling it myself.
I shouldn’t have been surprised by the mansion we pulled up to. I knew her parents had money. The iron gate slid open after Conrad punched in a code, and we drove up the winding path to the estate.
He didn’t knock, simply pushing the door open and calling out. “Mom? Dad? We’re here.”
The sharp click of heels echoed across marble floors before a striking omega with Lana’s same blonde hair rushed in. She pulled Lana into a tight hug, then Conrad, her voice shaking as she spoke.
“I’m so glad you’re safe. That was insane," she said. “Your dads are already on the phone with the board.”
“Mom, we need them to speak up against this. I have a pack now. Two of which are deltas,” she said, gesturing to us. Her mom’s gaze shifted between us before back to her daughter.
“Sweetheart, I’m so happy for you,” she said, giving her another hug, then coming over to give us one. She smelled like flowers and was far more grounded than I expected.
“Let’s fix this.” Her mother didn’t hesitate. She turned on her heels and marched us straight toward the office.
Mama Flynn didn’t knock as she pushed the door open. The three alphas were huddled around a desk and clicked the phone to mute themselves quickly.
The alphas looked grim, but their expressions softened when they saw Lana.
“We need you to put a stop to this. Our team and my pack are right at the center,” she begged her dads.
“I know,” the head alpha said, giving her a quick hug before shaking our hands.
“We’re not meeting under ideal circumstances,” he said after the greetings, voice heavy. “But we’ll make it work.”
He unmuted the call, voice steady and authoritative as he spoke about the current status of the league, the players, the past playoffs, and the undeniable impact deltas and betas had already had.
“Not only have they expanded the reach of the AHA, we owe it to them to listen to our players before making any decisions.”
The argument was heated, voices clashing until one commanding voice cut through them all.
“We are not making a decision tonight. One week from today, we will hold an open forum at AHA headquarters. Players will speak for themselves, then.”
“Yes, sir,” Lana’s dad said.
When the call ended, he looked at us with a serious expression. “You have to gather every delta you can and convince them to speak. Bring facts. Statistics. Keep emotions out of it as much as you can. We’ll do what we can from our end, but you have to put the work in.”
Lana squeezed my hand as she promised we’d do our best.
“Thanks, Dad. This is the chance we needed.”