Chapter 175: Trust Your Team

"The risk is that he gets pregnant," Vance replied bluntly through the speaker, not sounding even remotely intimidated by the Alpha on the line. "Without my high-grade blockers in his blood, his Omega biology went into hyper-drive the second your rut hit him. His body was literally built to conceive under those exact conditions. If you want a zero-percent chance of pregnancy, he has to take the heavy pill. Period."

​"And if he takes it, he can’t play on Saturday?" Reid asked, his jaw clenching so tight the muscles along his neck strained.

​"If he takes it, he’ll be doubled over in bed sweating out a synthetic hormonal storm for three days," Vance said grimly. "He won’t be able to stand, let alone skate sixty minutes of playoff hockey."

​Reid pulled the phone away from his ear, pressing the end-call button without another word to Vance. The room fell into a heavy, suffocating silence.

​He set the phone down on the coffee table and dropped back onto his knees, cupping both sides of my face in his large, warm hands. His grey eyes were intense, searching my pale, sweat-sheened face with a mixture of fierce, protective rage and agonizing conflict.

​"Kain," Reid whispered, his thumbs gently smoothing over my cheekbones. "Look at me."

​I forced my eyes to lock onto his, my chest heaving with rapid, shallow breaths. "Reid... I worked for every single game. I do not want to be benched. If I take myself out of Game 2 after already missing the third period of Game 1, Devin will tear me apart. The media will start digging. Miller and Russo just swore to keep my secret, but if I suddenly drop off the roster completely, the scrutiny will be too much. Everything falls apart."

​Reid’s brow furrowed, his stubborn, unyielding streak flaring up as his grip on my face tightened just a fraction.

​"Kain, it’s just one game!" he snapped, his voice rough and laced with desperate frustration. "If you sit out one game, you stand to protect the rest of your career by not suddenly getting pregnant! Or are you trying to risk it now and have regrets later? Huh?!"

​His words hit me like a physical blow, the harsh truth of his logic slicing straight through the frantic static in my brain.

​"I’m not trying to risk my career, Reid!" I yelled back, my raspy, ruined voice cracking under the sheer weight of the emotion tearing through my chest. "Do you think I want to carry a child right now?! Do you think I want to gamble with everything I’ve bled for over the last ten years?!"

​"Then take the damn pill!" Reid roared back, his eyes flashing dark with that terrifying Alpha intensity. "Take the pill, let your body crash, and let me deal with Devin and the media! I’ll take the fall for Game 2! I’ll tell them whatever they need to hear, but I am not letting you gamble your entire future on a mild flusher when you know your system was wide open!"

​"I can’t just step back, Reid!" I sobbed out, a single, furious tear finally slipping past my lashes as I grabbed his wrists, holding onto him for dear life. "I am the Captain! If I show weakness now, if I disappear when the team needs me most, everything we worked for goes down the drain! I can’t just sit on the sidelines and watch our season burn!"

​Reid stared down at me, his chest heaving, his mouth pressed into a hard, stubborn line as he fought the sheer, overwhelming instinct to just lock me in this room and force the commercial pill down my throat himself.

​He hated it. He hated every single second of the impossible choice laid out before us. But as he looked into my eyes, he saw the same terrifying, unyielding fire that made me the leader of the Serpents—the iron will that refused to bow, even when biology itself was trying to break me.

​Slowly, the explosive anger drained out of his posture, replaced by a dark, agonizing resignation.

"Kain, trust your team to handle it," he simply said, his voice dropping into a quiet, heavy calm that cut right through my frantic breathing. "They won’t fall just because they don’t have their captain on the ice for one game. They’re not that weak, Kain, and neither is the system you built for them. So what if you miss the game? If you’re sick, it can’t be helped. No one will suspect you for lying on a hospital bed."

​I blinked up at him, my throat locking as the tear tracked down my cheek.

​"And if we tell the team tomorrow, they can start planning a new strategy for the game," Reid continued, his thumb gently catching the tear and wiping it away. "In the meantime, we can get you hospitalized just for show and make up an excuse about a high fever or something. Your sister can talk to the coach about it so he doesn’t come to confirm on his own. Nobody questions Marina when it comes to your health."

​His hands slid up to frame my face, his grey eyes locking onto mine with an intensity that demanded my complete surrender.

​"Kain, you have to sit back and take this seriously," Reid growled softly, his voice laced with a raw, desperate authority. "I am not letting you gamble your entire future on a maybe. If you get pregnant right now, it won’t just be Game 2 you miss—it’ll be the rest of your career. I can’t let you destroy yourself just for sixty minutes of hockey. Especially..." his words slowed and became small, almost fragile. "... Especially since it’s my rut that put us in this mess in the first place," he whispered.

The quiet confession hung in the space between us, fragile and devastatingly heavy. His fingers, still framing my jaw, trembled ever so slightly as the anger and authority in his frame completely dissolved into raw, gut-wrenching guilt.

​Reid McCoy—the arrogant, unstoppable rookie who carried himself like he owned every inch of the ice—looked completely broken beneath the weight of his own guilt.

​My heart twisted, a sharp ache cutting through the lingering terror in my chest.

​"Reid..." I whispered, my raspy voice barely finding its footing.

​"I was out of my mind, Cap," he said, his eyes glistening with unshed tears as he looked at me, taking in every bruise on my throat and the pale, exhausted shade of my skin. "I knew what you were risking the second you walked through that door. You came to save me, and I... I completely tore down your defenses. I forced you into a heat. I knotted you until your system shattered. If I end up ruining your dream because I couldn’t control my own fucking rut... I’ll never forgive myself. Ever."

​"Hey," I choked out, forcing my weak, sore arms to reach up and slide behind his neck, pulling his head down until our foreheads pressed together. "Look at me, Reid. Stop it."

​He let out a shaky, shuddering breath, his forehead resting heavily against mine as his eyes closed tightly.

​"You didn’t force yourself on me," I murmured, my thumbs lightly tracing the nape of his neck. "I chose to come to you. I chose to stay and help you through the rut. I chose to open my mouth, let my scent out, and pull you into that bed. I knew the risks, Reid and I took them regardless. I’m a grown man, and I am your Omega. Don’t you dare take all the blame on yourself."

​Reid didn’t answer with words; he just let out a low, shuddering exhale, his broad arms wrapping around my waist, burying his face directly into the crook of my neck where his scent could wrap around me like a shield.

​The warmth of his body, the heavy, grounding pulse of his heart against my ribs, slowly began to anchor the chaotic storm in my head. I looked over his shoulder, staring blankly at the wall as the reality of his plan settled into my bones.

​Hospitalization. Marina taking the lead. A fake cover story for Coach Devin. Missing Game 2.

​It was a bitter pill to swallow. Every fiber of my competitive, fiercely protective soul screamed against sitting in a sterile room while my team fought the Vipers without their Captain. But looking at Reid, feeling the sheer terror vibrating through his massive frame, I knew he was right.

​Relying on a mild flusher when my body had been wide open was a fool’s gamble. If I got pregnant now, the secret wouldn’t just tear down my career—it would blow up our lives, our team, and everything we had bled for over the last decade.

​"Okay," I whispered into his damp hair, my hands tightening in his shirt.

​Reid went completely still against me. "Okay?"

​"We’ll do it your way," I rasped, a tired, defeated sigh slipping past my lips. "I’ll call Vance and get the commercial pill. And... I’ll call Marina."