Page 96 of Eight Count Heat
"We will," Gray says, his voice carrying both authority and something deeper. "Whatever it takes."
The medication dulls the worst symptoms, bringing clarity back to my thoughts. I can do this. Get through the ceremony. Return to the hotel. Face what comes next on my own terms.
"Thank you," I say, looking at each of them. "All of you. For protecting me. For giving me choices."
"Team takes care of team," Bo says, his voice taking on a sort of haunted quality.
As we prepare to rejoin the public celebration of our victory, I realize how much has changed. Two weeks ago, I was fighting just to earn a spot on this team. Now they're willing to risk everything to protect me.
The thought should terrify me. Instead, it just feels right.
I won't be facing this alone. And for once, I actually have a say in how it goes.
chapter TWENTY-SIX
Zane
The emergency suppressantis working, but barely.
I can tell the moment we step out of the equipment room because Reese moves differently now. Her usual confident stride has become careful, measured, like she's concentrating on each step. The flush in her cheeks could pass for post-race excitement to anyone who doesn't know what to look for, but I know exactly what I'm seeing.
Unlike most of my teammates, I've been around Omegas in heat before. More than I care to admit, actually. The summer after high school, working at my uncle's resort in the Hamptons, I learned firsthand how to help an Omega through a cycle without losing my head or my heart. Casual arrangements that benefited everyone involved and ended cleanly when vacation was over.
Those experiences taught me something the others haven't learned yet: maintaining an Omega in heat is as much about restraint as it is about satisfaction. Too much stimulation can send them spiraling. Too little can be dangerous. It's a delicate balance that requires patience and control.
Skills I never thought I'd need for my college rowing team.
"How long do we have?" I ask Eli quietly as we form a protective cluster around Reese, heading toward the awards area.
"Maybe thirty minutes before the medication starts wearing off," he replies, adjusting his position to block her from curious onlookers. "Less if stress accelerates the metabolization."
"And then?"
"Then we find out how good our acting skills are."
The awards ceremony setup sprawls across the lawn beside the boathouse, a temporary stage flanked by corporate banners and folding chairs arranged in neat rows. Officials bustle around with clipboards while photographers position themselves for optimal shots. The rain has stopped, leaving everything damp and gleaming under the late afternoon sun.
I spot Andrea and Kinsley immediately, positioned near the media area with phones out, clearly hoping to document whatever breakdown they're expecting. Their satisfied expressions make my jaw clench.
"Vultures," Beckett mutters, following my gaze.
"Ignore them," Gray says, but his voice carries an edge that suggests he's noticed too. "Focus on getting through this."
Coach Bennett waves us toward the staging area where other winning crews are gathering. The men's lightweight eight fromBayside celebrates nearby, still high on their victory. A women's four from Northridge poses for team photos, their coxswain beaming with pride.
Normal post-race energy. Normal celebration.
Nothing about our situation is normal.
"Sable Ridge Men's Varsity Eight," an official calls. "Ready for presentation."
We fall into formation, Reese positioned in the center with Gray and Bo flanking her. I take my place in the back row, close enough to steady her if needed but far enough to avoid overwhelming her heightened senses.
The stage feels enormous as we climb the steps. Hundreds of spectators, cameras flashing, officials preparing to hand over hardware that validates all our training. This should be a celebration of our first major victory of the season, momentum building toward bigger races ahead.
Instead, I'm watching Reese fight to maintain her composure as heat begins breaking through military-grade suppressants.
"Ladies and gentlemen," the announcer's voice booms across the lawn, "your 2024 Riverside Invitational Men's Varsity Eight champions, Sable Ridge University!"
