Chapter 182: What the Hell are You Doing Here?

Fidora hated hockey. She had always despised the violent, grueling sport that her son poured his entire life into. To her, it was an uncivilized, dangerous distraction from high society and real power. And now, standing in an Omega clinic, seeing her son tied to a sports captain who had spent a decade playing that savage game under the influence of black-market chemicals... The sheer absurdity of the situation filled her with bitter disgust.

​Beside her, Brad took a slow step forward into the heavy silence. His gentle face was pale with utter dismay as his soft eyes moved between the doctor, the dissolved chemical bin, and my pale, trembling frame.

​"Kain..." Brad choked out softly, his voice trembling with deep, genuine concern as he bypassed his wife’s frozen aura. "The doctor just said your system is severely compromised... Please, tell me you’re okay."

​Brad knew that exact terror—the terror of never being able to conceive again. He didn’t care about the fact that I was the captain of the team his son played for, or the fact that a scandal could happen; he was simply terrified for my life.

​Before I could even find my voice to answer him, the suite’s double doors swung wide open.

​Marina stepped into the room, tablet in hand, fully expecting to find just Reid and me waiting for her. Instead, she walked right into the middle of the standoff. Her sharp eyes swept over the scene—Reid’s parents standing in the doorway, the destroyed chemical bin, the doctor holding the ultrasound, and me sitting on the edge of the bed looking utterly drained.

​Taking in the suffocating atmosphere and seeing the McCoy matriarch looming near the bed, Marina’s composure shattered instantly. Her protective instincts flared into a dangerous, protective heat.

​"What the hell are you doing here?!" Marina barked, stepping forcefully into the suite and placing herself firmly between the McCoys and the bed. "Are you trying to threaten my brother right now?!"

​Fidora snapped out of her silence, slowly folding her arms neatly across her tailored blazer as she looked down her nose at my sister.

​"Threaten him?" Fidora replied, her voice dripping with pure, aristocratic arrogance. She cast a dismissive, sharp glance over my trembling frame. "When I asked Reid to finally get with an Omega and get himself an heir, I didn’t mean it like this."

"What the hell is going on here?" Marina asked, turning to me. She expected I should’ve been in a state where I couldn’t sit up because of her chemical reactions but I was fine and there were a few unwanted presence as well.

"Sister," I called and briefly explained everything the doctor had said, and her face went hollow, deathly pale.

Fidora tilted her head, her tone dry, cutting, and utterly devoid of warmth. "Congratulations. You’re going to be a father, Reid. And it’s not with an Omega from a respectable family of our standing."

​The insult hung heavy in the air for less than a second before Marina turned on her head-on.

​"Hey! ’Family of your standing’?" Marina yelled, her voice shaking with raw, dangerous fury as she stepped directly into Fidora’s personal space. "Do you want to invoke my fury right now?! How can you say such a thing at a time like this?!"

​Fidora didn’t even flinch. "I’m not the one who asked your brother to hide his identity and live off illegal blockers for ten years, so it is not my fault. If anything, I am worried for the child that will grow in that contaminated body."

​The word hit me like a physical blow.

​Contaminated.

​My breath hitched violently. Automatically, my fingers reached up, clutching the fabric of my turtleneck over my chest as a cold, suffocating dread pooled in my stomach.

I had never thought of it like that when I was taking Vance’s illegal blockers and suppressants year after year. Back then, I only had the game in mind. I only cared about stepping onto the ice, passing the tests, and keeping my secret locked away.

I never considered what those blockers were doing to my organs.

​If something happened to the child inside me right now because of the toxins I had pumped into my own blood... that was it. I would never be able to conceive again. I would lose the game, my health, and my only chance at a family.

​"Don’t talk bad about Kain, Mother," a low, dangerous voice growled.

​Reid stepped up, his towering, broad frame cutting off Fidora’s view of me. His grey eyes were dark, flashing with an unhinged, protective Alpha rage, his fists clenched so tight they trembled. "I’m warning you."

​Fidora furrowed her brows, her lips twisting into a sneer of pure disbelief as she stared at her son, apparently warning her for a sports captain.

​"You’re warning me?" Fidora asked, her voice dangerously quiet.

​"Fidora, that is enough!" Brad cried out, his voice cracking as tears finally spilled over his cheeks. He stepped between his wife and son, his hands shaking as he looked at Fidora with deep, painful shame. "Look at what you’re doing! Look at what this boy is going through! Have you no heart?!"

​Brad turned to me, his soft eyes filled with devastating empathy. "Kain... don’t listen to her. Please."

​Fidora let out a cold, sharp breath, looking at her weeping husband, then at Reid’s murderous scowl, and finally at my pale, quiet face. Seeing the absolute, unbreakable wall standing between her and her son, she slowly lowered her arms.

​"Fine," Fidora said, her tone clipped and distant. "Do whatever you want. Destroy your life. You might think you’re an adult making your own choices, Reid," she added said, her voice dropping into a deadly, calculated murmur that sent a chill through the room. "But the moment you produce an heir, you belong to the family structure again. If you carry this child to term... the family will step in, interfere, and hold you directly responsible for every single drop of fallout from your actions."

​Without another word, Fidora turned on her heel and walked out of the suite, her heavy leather boots clicking sharp against the hallway floor. Brad lingered for a second, offering me a tight, tearful nod of silent support, before hurrying after his wife.

​The suite fell into a suffocating, heavy silence.