Chapter 54: Traffic was bad

I froze, my hand hovering inches from the swinging wooden door that led to the kitchen.

The warmth of the living room, filled with the loud, oblivious chatter of my Beta siblings, felt miles away. Right behind me, Reid was a solid, towering wall of heat, his presence completely overtaking my blind spot.

​If Marina saw us like this—with Reid leaning down so close his chest was nearly brushing my shoulder blades, trapped in a space that looked far too intimate—it would immediately set off every single one of her protective alarm bells.

​I couldn’t just walk into the kitchen and introduce him to her like this. Marina wasn’t the twins. She didn’t look at a hockey player and see a cool teammate; she looked at the world through a lens of strict hierarchy and protective instinct.

She knew I avoided Alphas like the plague. She knew how terrifyingly dangerous a dominant Alpha was to my secret. For me to bring one to a private sibling dinner, let alone let him stand in my personal space, would look like a massive red flag.

​"Stay here," I hissed, turning my head just enough to glare at him over my shoulder, my voice a harsh, desperate whisper.

​Reid blinked, his smoky grey eyes widening slightly in genuine surprise at the sudden, sharp panic in my tone.

​"What’s wrong, Cap?" he murmured, a faint, curious smirk trying to form on his lips, though his eyes remained hyper-focused on the sudden tension in my jaw. "Scared I’ll tell her your lasagna preferences?"

​"I said stay in the living room, McCoy," I gritted out, planting my palm firmly against his chest and pushing back.

He didn’t budge an inch, solid as stone, but he did tilt his head, studying the absolute gravity in my expression.

"Talk to the twins. Play video games. Do whatever the hell you want, but do not follow me into that kitchen."

​Before he could argue or pull another arrogant stunt, I forced my expression into a neutral mask, pushed the swinging door open, and stepped into the kitchen, letting it slap shut firmly behind me.

​The air in the kitchen was thick with the rich, savory scent of baked cheese, marinara sauce, and garlic. But beneath the heavy aroma of the food, the sharp, distinct scent of a proud Alpha was cutting through the room.

​Marina was standing by the oven, her back to me as she used heavy mitts to pull a massive, bubbling tray of lasagna onto the counter. Her movements were precise, her posture commanding. Even without a jersey, my eldest sister carried herself like a general.

​"You’re late, Kain," Marina said without turning around, her voice smooth but carrying that innate, authoritative weight. "The twins are already starving, which means they’re ten minutes away from killing each other."

​"Traffic was bad," I lied smoothly, walking over to the sink to wash my hands, keeping my movements deliberate and steady. "Do you need me to carry the dishes out?"

​Marina set the heavy tray down with a dull thud. She peeled off the oven mitts, tossed them onto the counter, and slowly turned around.

​The moment her sharp, dark eyes locked onto me, the air in the kitchen instantly shifted.

​Her nostrils flared, taking a sudden, deep breath of the room’s air. Even with the high-grade synthetic patch sealed tightly under my thick black sweater and the overwhelming smell of the lasagna, an Alpha’s nose was a terrifying thing. Especially one who knew my scent too well.

Her eyes narrowed into dangerous, calculating slits as she tracked my posture, her gaze fixing on the high collar of my sweater before rising back to my face.

​"Kain," she said quietly, her voice dropping into a low, dangerous register that made my inner Omega instinctively want to shrink back.

She stepped closer, her sharp eyes scanning the closed kitchen door behind me before locking onto mine with an intense, protective severity. ℴℴ𝘮

"Why does the entire entryway smell like a strange Alpha’s territory? And more importantly... why is that exact same scent clinging to the back of your neck?"

I swallowed hard, my throat feeling completely dry as I forced my hands to stay steady under the running water.

I shut off the faucet, the sudden silence in the kitchen making the erratic pounding of my heart sound deafening in my own ears.

Turning around slowly, I kept my face entirely blank, leaning against the sink to give my aching ribs a rest.

​"That’s Reid McCoy," I said, my voice steady, though every nerve in my body was screaming. "He’s the new rookie from the first line."

​Marina didn’t move. She stood with her arms crossed over her chest, her posture unyielding as she waited for the rest of the equation to make sense.

​"He’s... Incredibly immature," I continued, forcing a tired, captain-like sigh as I spun the lie. "On the ice, he’s a force, but off the ice, he’s a total headache. The front office and Coach Devin have been pushing us to build team chemistry because our on-ice synergy is the only thing keeping our offense alive right now. That’s why he’s almost always around me lately. It’s a mandatory bonding thing."

​Marina stayed entirely silent. Her dark eyes didn’t leave my face, tracking the slight, microscopic movements of my jaw. The utter lack of a reaction from her made the air feel suffocating.

​Nervousness, cold and sharp, began to creep up my spine, forcing me to keep talking just to fill the quiet.

"He’s completely shameless, Marina. When Chloe called me this morning, he was right there and overheard about the dinner. He started acting all childish, throwing a tantrum because he wanted to blow off his own family, and insisted on coming over here for a proper home-cooked meal."

​"Why didn’t you turn him down?" Marina asked, her voice flat, cutting straight through my rambling.

​"I did," I insisted, my fingers tightening against the edge of the porcelain sink. "I turned him down over and over again. But he’s not exactly the listening type. He’s stubborn, he’s spoiled, and honestly... I didn’t want to push back so hard that it made it seem like I was hiding something. If I acted completely terrified of having a rookie over for dinner, it would look suspicious to the team. So..."

​"So you brought him home," Marina finished my sentence, her tone dropping into a dangerous rumble.

I gulped again, the sound loud and fragile in the tight space of the kitchen.