Chapter Text
It was Sunday, June 9th. The dorms were finally open, and Andrew had to move back in with his pack. Which explains why he’s sitting at the windowsill, a cigarette between his lips, watching his family tear apart their dorm.
Nicky was scrambling around like an idiot, swearing in German about the things he always forgot. Aaron and Kevin were fighting over desk space again, like children. And Andrew? Andrew couldn’t be bothered.
Because his mind was preoccupied.
There was something off about Neil Josten. Andrew had noticed it the second he saw him. The way he moved, the way he watched. Like someone who didn’t belong but had spent his entire life learning how to blend in. Like someone expecting to be hunted.
And then there was the other thing. The kid.
Neil was an idiot for bringing his little brother here. This was the Foxes, not some suburban neighborhood where betas raised their siblings in safe little houses. This was a team of misfits with records, addictions, and trauma thick in their blood. No place for a kid. And yet—Neil had walked in, his brother balanced on his hip, his stare even and unflinching.
Andrew doesn’t like things he can’t predict. And Neil? Neil is one giant question mark.
Andrew will solve him.
He took another slow drag of his cigarette, letting the smoke sit in his lungs before exhaling. The nicotine didn’t help with the pounding headache behind his eyes, but it was better than listening to this bullshit. Kevin’s pheromones were already suffocating.
Andrew knew why.
Kevin was a suppressed Alpha. Thanks to an insecure little bitch named Riko, Kevin had never been allowed to let his scent overpower anyone. It meant he had no control over it now, no way to rein it in, no way to stop broadcasting his every emotion for anyone with a functioning nose to pick up on. Kevin’s scent was erratic, shifting too fast to track. Too much at once. It was why Andrew had been helping him, calling his name every time it got unbearable, making him stop, making him breathe.
It hadn’t fixed anything. But it kept Kevin from spiraling.
And these past few weeks? Kevin had been worse. Drinking more. Agitated. Pheromones spiking for no reason. Andrew hasn’t asked why yet, but he knows Kevin is hiding something.
And really, he has no one to blame but himself. The moment he accepted Kevin into his pack, the moment he offered him protection, Andrew knew what he was getting into. But regret is a useless feeling. It doesn’t change anything.
He doesn’t remember when his family started seeing him as their leader, but they do. Maybe it was the moment he almost killed the four Alphas who beat Nicky. Maybe it was the moment he decided to protect Aaron. It doesn’t really matter. They see him as their leader, and Andrew stopped trying to change that a long time ago. It works in his favor.
“Could you just stop?” Aaron snapped, his patience already wearing thin.
“I’m not doing anything,” Kevin shot back, his pheromones going sharp, sour with irritation.
“Kevin.” Andrew’s voice was flat, unwavering. “ Deep breaths. ”
Kevin’s nostrils flared. He inhaled sharply, then exhaled. Again. Again. His scent finally leveled out.
“Thank god,” Aaron muttered, rolling his eyes.
Andrew ignored them both. His attention had already shifted back to the window—just in time to catch a glimpse of the real reason he was here.
Neil Josten.
Like usual, he had his kid brother in his arms. The little boy was talking, his hands waving as he spoke, while Neil pretended to listen.
Andrew had seen Matt leave earlier. Nicky mentioned he was picking up his girlfriend and Renee from the airport. Which meant their dorm was completely empty. Exactly what Andrew wanted.
He crushed his cigarette against the windowsill, stood up, and walked to the door. No one stopped him. No one questioned him. They let him leave.
Andrew walked to dorm number 321, slipping into Matt’s—and now Josten’s —dorm. He picked the lock in under a minute and stepped inside. The room was just as messy as his own. Boyd’s things were scattered everywhere, but Andrew didn’t touch them. He wasn’t here for that.
He was here for one thing.
Andrew made his way to the bedroom. The bunk bed told him everything he needed to know. Neil was sleeping in the top bunk. Which meant anything important was hidden close by.
Andrew started with the drawers. Then the closet. Nothing.
His eyes scanned the room again, moving to the bed. At first glance, everything looked normal. But if you looked closely— if you looked the way Andrew does —you could see the slight shift in the mattress.
Andrew reached forward, pressed his palm against the edge, and pushed. The mattress slid just enough to reveal a duffel bag wedged beneath it.
It was the same duffel bag that the beta always kept on him.
Andrew placed the bag down and opened it. There was nothing major, only clothes lined up in a way that Andrew knew was intentional. Neil had placed them like this so he would know if someone had gone through his stuff. Too bad for him that Andrew had an eidetic memory.
He removed the clothes slowly, keeping them in the same folds. There were coloring books, small storybooks, a brush—normal things. Too normal. Too neat, too carefully placed for someone like Josten to have.
Andrew palmed the bottom of the bag, running his hand along the material, pressing lightly until he felt a shift beneath his fingers.
There.
He peeled back the fabric and found a binder. And this — this was what had set Andrew on edge from the beginning.
Since the first day Neil had tensed when Wymack mentioned Kevin. Since all the times Andrew had caught him watching Kevin, gaze dark with something unreadable. Since the way he moved, the way he flinched just slightly whenever someone’s scent got too close.
Andrew hadn’t wanted to confirm his suspicions until he had solid proof.
And now, proof was staring him in the face.
From cover to cover, it looked like a stalker’s journal. Plastic sheet protectors were stuffed full of newspaper clippings, photographs, and anything else he could find on Kevin and Riko. The clippings were glued to computer paper, which the beta had placed back-to-back in the plastic slips to create a hidden inner pocket.
And in those pockets were slips. Slips that hid money. Certificates with five-digit amounts. Different certificates for him and his brother. A list of emergency contacts, coded as a childish nursery rhyme, tucked toward the back.
Different phone numbers. Ciphers. Codes that Andrew couldn’t immediately crack.
And then, in the last slip of the binder, Andrew found something that made him pause.
There was a forged optometrist’s note. Prescriptions for illegal suppressants.
Andrew had to sit down properly as he read them. It wasn’t just that Neil Josten looked like a stalker —someone who had been paid by Riko to watch Kevin—but he was an omega .
Andrew knew exactly what these suppressants were. Heat suppressants. Period suppressants. Scent blockers. Each one listed with precise dosages, dates, and a contact number.
How long has he been on these?
Andrew put everything back in the binder, keeping the order Neil had left it in. But suspicion pushed him to dig deeper, pressing his fingers between the folded clothes until he found something else. A plastic bag. One he had missed at first.
Inside were three small perfume bottles, sport bras, and pads. Andrew stared at them for a long moment, feeling something like discomfort crawl under his skin.
He wasn’t sure what unsettled him more—the blatant proof that Neil was an omega or the fact that he had never once slipped up.
Not once.
Andrew returned everything to its place, except for one thing.
The presenting paper. Neil Josten: Dominant Omega.
Andrew was angry. He could feel the anger simmering beneath his skin, burning slow and deep. Angry that he’d been fooled. Fooled by Josten. Fooled by David and Abby.
He put everything back in its place, smoothing the clothes with deliberate care, all while resisting the urge to tear through them, to rip the whole damn bag apart.
By the time he returned to his dorm, his scent was neutralized, locked down tight, buried beneath layers of control. He climbed onto the windowsill, lit a cigarette, and ignored the weight of Aaron’s stare.
The presenting paper was in his pocket, folded neat, packed full of illegal suppressants.
Josten wasn’t getting it back. Not yet. Not until Andrew said so.
He was in the middle of his cigarette when the door unlocked.
Which was interesting, considering Andrew remembered locking it
The door swung open, and there was Neil.
He was alone . His brother nowhere in sight. His face was flushed, his fists shaking , his scent buried so deep beneath that pathetic little perfume of his that Andrew almost couldn’t catch it.
But his eyes—
His eyes were locked right on Andrew.
“That was locked, right?” Nicky asked in German.
“Yes,” Aaron answered, his confusion evident.
“Neil, hey,” Nicky switched languages with ease, his voice light, like he hadn’t noticed the tension rolling off the omega in waves. “Did you meet Dan and Renee yet?”
Neil didn’t so much as blink at him.
“Why?” His voice was low, sharp and thin as a blade.
“Try again, Josten,” Andrew said, exhaling smoke. “You’re in the wrong room.”
Neil stepped forward, his entire body vibrating. Andrew couldn’t tell if it was fear or rage.
“Where is it?” he demanded, voice tight, barely held together.
Andrew tilted his head, watching him. “Why?”
“It’s personal,” Neil gritted out, none of his emotions reaching the surface, nothing but that stiff, locked-down mask.
Andrew took another slow drag of his cigarette.
“What are you planning to do with it?” Neil’s eyes flickered to Kevin, just for a second, before snapping back to Andrew.
Ah. There it is.
“What is he talking about, Andrew?” Aaron asked, irritation creeping into his voice.
Andrew waved a hand at his brother, dismissive, never looking away from Neil. “Are you scared?”
Neil sucked in a sharp breath, then closed his eyes, forcing himself steady.
“Please,” he said.
Andrew went still, His entire body locked tight.
“Don’t say that word again,” he snapped.
Neil startled, took a step back, eyes wide—but then the shock vanished, replaced by something hotter, something angrier.
“Give it back, then,” he snapped.
“I will,” Andrew said, flicking the ash from his cigarette. “After you come with us this Friday.”
“What?” Nicky asked, confusion clear. Aaron cursed under his breath.
Neil’s eyes narrowed. “Go where?”
“Out,” Andrew said. “And leave your brother here.”
The panic was instant, a sharp hitch in Neil’s breathing, his shoulders curling inward, his arms tightening around his bag.
“No,” he said, shaking his head, his voice frantic . “I can’t—I can’t leave Eli and go.”
Andrew raised a finger. “One night. And I’ll give you back your stuff. You don’t come, and everyone will know.”
“Know what?” Kevin asked, brows furrowing.
Neil looked horrified
If Andrew had any sympathy left, he might’ve felt bad.
But he didn’t.
So he didn’t care.
“You can’t,” Neil choked, his whole body trembling. “You can’t do that, Coach won’t let you.”
Andrew stepped forward, watching as Neil took another step back.
“Coach can’t stop me,” he said simply. “You can ask Boyd about it.”
Neil stared at him in disbelief, breath coming fast, too shallow. The panic gave way to anger, then—
Then to disgust.
And when Neil spoke, his voice was quiet enough that only Andrew could hear.
“You’re just like them,” he said, trembling, his expression twisted in something sharp and ugly. “Just like every Alpha I know. You’re all disgusting .”
Then he turned and slammed the door behind him.
Andrew stood there, frozen despite himself.
The words crawled beneath his skin, scraping old wounds raw.
You’re just like them.
Like every Alpha I know.
Disgusting.
Andrew clenched his jaw so hard it ached. He stared at the closed door, at the space where Neil had stood, and forced himself to move.
He turned and walked to his room.
Ignored Aaron calling his name. Ignored Kevin’s questioning look. Ignored Nicky’s hovering.
He shut the door behind him. Locked it. Sat on the bed.
If Neil Josten thought he hated him now—
—he’d hate him even more by Friday.
Andrew pretended he didn’t care .
____
Neil was angry. Fuming. Exposed. Disgusted. But more than anything, he was so fucking disappointed in himself. How could he be so stupid, so reckless? How could he leave his bag unattended like that, like he had nothing to lose, like he was safe here?
Safe. He almost laughed bitterly at the thought. He should have known better.
When Neil met Matt this morning, the Alpha had seemed nice. Too nice. He cooed over Eli, bought him chocolate, offered to drive Neil anywhere he needed. And for a brief, fleeting moment, Neil had let himself feel something dangerously close to ease. Matt didn’t set off his usual alarms. There was nothing in his scent or body language that made Neil think he would snoop. Besides, Matt had been busy, out picking up his girlfriend and Walker from the airport. He wouldn’t have had time to dig through Neil’s things.
But Andrew had. Andrew had been watching him, suspicious enough to pick apart the fragile life Neil had been desperately holding together. And now Andrew knew . Neil could already feel the walls closing in on him.
He was so stupid .
After leaving the monsters’ dorm—Matt’s words—Neil picked up Eli and walked straight past Dan and Renee without stopping. Dan seemed nice, another Alpha that Neil could almost believe wasn’t a threat. But Renee… Renee was different. The look in her eyes made something in Neil go tense, made his instincts scream at him to be careful . But he didn’t have time to process that, not now.
His fury and frustration burned too hot, so instead of stopping, instead of thinking, he walked. Walked straight to the stadium, his mind spiraling with every step.
He didn’t think about the fact that his period had started that morning, that he woke up to blood and panicked until he remembered that this was normal, that his body was supposed to do this. His legs were aching, his back was killing him, his stomach twisting in sharp, relentless cramps. Abby had called them cramps . She had even offered him painkillers, but Neil refused. If he could handle being stitched awake , he could handle this.
But it didn’t make his mood any better.
He had been on edge all day, irritable and snappy, and Eli—his son—had noticed. Neil could feel the way Eli had been watching him all morning, quiet and wary, waiting for him to finally break . Neil hated himself for making his son like this.
So he walked. Declined Matt’s offer for a ride. Refused to even consider getting in a car with Andrew. Not because he was afraid of him, but because he was afraid of what Andrew would do with the information he now had. Andrew had all the power now.
Neil was trapped.
And the worst part?
He had to find somewhere to leave Eli.
The thought alone made his stomach churn. A deep, primal wrongness settled in his chest, heavy and suffocating. He had never been apart from Eli before, not once. But now, with his instincts heightened, with his body changing in ways he didn’t understand, his omega instincts were getting worse. He had never been this territorial, never felt this kind of suffocating, desperate need to keep Eli close. The very idea of letting him out of his sight, even for one night, made his pulse skyrocket.
But he had no choice.
Reaching the stadium, Neil made his way straight to Abby’s office and knocked.
“Come in,” came her voice, gentle and warm.
Neil stepped inside, clutching Eli tighter as he crossed the room.
“Neil, hi,” she greeted, motioning for him to sit. “How do you feel?”
Neil sat, pulling Eli into his lap, keeping him close, his fingers subconsciously running through his curls. “Good,” he lied. His throat felt tight. “I got my period today.”
Abby’s expression shifted, surprise flickering across her face. “Oh, are you okay?”
Neil nodded stiffly. “Yeah. It’s fine.” Another lie.
Abby studied him, waiting for him to say what he actually came here for.
Neil hesitated. He hated this, hated needing help. But he had no other options.
Taking a slow breath, he finally said, “I need a favor.”
Abby didn’t even blink. “Of course. What is it?”
Neil swallowed hard, eyes dropping to Eli. His son was playing with his shirt, small fingers twisting in the fabric.
“I need you to watch Eli this Friday,” he said, voice low, like saying it too loud would make it real. “Can you?”
Neil hated everything about this.
He hated trusting anyone with Eli.
Hated leaving him behind.
Hated the idea of being even a single mile away from his son.
But Abby was his only option.
“Yes, I don’t mind,” she said, smiling at Eli. “I’m sure we’ll have a great time. But Neil… where are you going?”
And that —that was the question he couldn’t answer.
If he told Wymack or Abby what Andrew had said, they would intervene . They would fight for him. And if Andrew hadn’t planned to expose him before, he would then.
Neil was an unregistered omega, and he had been on illegal suppressants for years. If the wrong people found out—if the police got involved—it would be over. For him. For Eli .
No amount of interference from Wymack or Abby could stop that.
So he lied.
“I have some business to finish,” he said, voice carefully even. “Just for one night. I’ll be back by morning.”
Abby watched him closely, her gaze warm but searching .
“Okay,” she said at last. “You can drop him off before you go. Just tell me about his routine.”
Neil nodded, reaching for a piece of paper and quickly scribbling down notes. Eli eats at eight , usually grilled cheese or fruit. Neil would bring his favorites when he dropped him off. A bath after . Warm water. Then coloring books . Then bed by ten or eleven.
“I’ll pack everything he needs,” Neil murmured, handing her the paper. “He’s not fussy. He’s quiet. He watches TV or colors. He understands English, but only to a certain level.”
His stomach twisted as he admitted, “I haven’t… I haven’t been separated from him before.” The words felt wrong coming out of his mouth. “And I don’t have a phone, but I’ll text you or call you from Kevin’s if I need to.”
“Kevin?” Abby repeated, brows furrowing slightly.
Neil nodded stiffly. “Yeah. We’re going together.”
Or rather, Andrew was forcing him to go.
Abby hesitated for a moment, something unreadable in her gaze.
“There’s nothing wrong, right?” she asked carefully. “You know you can tell me, Neil.”
“I know,” he lied.
“There’s nothing wrong,” he lied again.
Abby watched him for another long moment, then sighed and looked down at the paper with a small smile. “You’re a great father, you know?”
Neil didn’t know.
So he didn’t answer.
“If he cries,” Neil said instead, voice tight, “Call me through Kevin’s immediately.”
Abby nodded. “Okay. Don’t worry.”
Neil was worried.
He ran a hand through Eli’s curls, hugged him tighter , his chest aching with something too big to name.
“I should go,” he muttered. “The team must have arrived.”
Abby nodded, waving at Eli. Eli waved back.
Neil left, his thoughts spiraling with every step.
With every possibility of how this could go wrong .
Neil’s mind was still tangled in the events of the day, his thoughts a storm he couldn’t quiet, until Eli patted his hair. Small fingers threading through the strands, gentle but insistent. “Nello,” Eli whispered in French, voice small and uncertain. “Are you okay?”
Neil forced a smile, pausing just outside the foyer, tightening his hold on Eli. “Yes, mon lapin, I’m good,” he reassured him.
Eli tilted his head, scrutinizing Neil the way only he could, like he knew when Neil was lying. His wide blue eyes were searching, unraveling him thread by thread. “Are you sad?”
Neil huffed a quiet, breathy laugh, shaking his head. “No.”
Eli didn’t look convinced, but he didn’t push. Instead, he wrapped his small arms around Neil’s neck and rested his head against his shoulder, his warmth bleeding into Neil’s skin. Then, soft, rhythmic pats against his shoulder, a comforting gesture Neil had used on him a hundred times before. “It’s okay if you’re sad,” Eli murmured, voice barely above a whisper. “Eli is here.”
Neil’s breath hitched, his throat closing around a sudden, suffocating weight. Heat burned behind his eyelids, sharp and stinging, and before he even realized what was happening, something wet slid down his cheek.
A tear.
Neil touched his face, fingers brushing against the dampness.
Strange.
He never cried. Not when his mother beat survival into him, not when he buried her in California, not when he ran for his life every day afterward. He didn’t cry .
But now—another tear fell. Then another. And another.
Eli kept patting his shoulder, murmuring reassurances, echoing words Neil had told him time and time again when he woke up from nightmares, crying in the dead of night. And Neil—helpless, exposed, raw—clung to his son, his face buried in his curls, trying to breathe through the silent tremors wracking his chest.
It might have looked pathetic, if anyone saw them. A grown man breaking in the arms of his two-year-old son. But Neil had never felt this powerless before, never let himself feel it, never let himself crack .
Maybe it was frustration. Maybe it was rage. Maybe it was the exhaustion of everything pressing down on him—his secrets, his past, his present, the suffocating weight of it all.
Eventually, he forced himself to move, wiping his face roughly with the sleeve of his hoodie, pressing a lingering kiss to Eli’s head.
“Let’s go,” he murmured, voice raw. “Coach is waiting.”
Eli nodded, loosening his grip, and Neil set him down gently, gripping his small hand tightly as they stepped into the foyer.
The moment they entered, the air shifted.
Thick, oppressive, suffocating—pheromones everywhere , clashing and heavy, curling around Neil’s throat like invisible fingers. The scent of irritation, anger, exhaustion pressing in from all sides .
Neil fought the instinct to bolt .
His gaze landed on Andrew first, sitting between Kevin and Aaron, watching him with those sharp, unreadable eyes.
Neil clenched his jaw and forced himself to keep walking, picking the furthest seat possible. The division in the team was glaringly obvious, upperclassmen clustered on one couch, Andrew’s lot on the other, tension palpable in the space between them.
“Neil!” Matt said brightly, as if he hadn’t just walked into a suffocating atmosphere. “Didn’t see you there.”
Neil sat down stiffly, keeping Eli perched on his lap. “I was at Abby’s,” he replied flatly.
Dan grinned at Eli, waving. “Oh, he’s so cute.”
“I know, right?” Nicky beamed. “You should see his face when Neil plays. Kid looks like he’s watching the second coming of Christ or something.”
Neil barely registered their conversation. His attention was elsewhere, locked on Kevin, watching the way he sat too still , shoulders tense, fingers twitching in his lap.
Ever since that night in Wymack’s apartment, Kevin had been… off. More withdrawn, more on edge, his pheromones wrecked —wild and unchecked, laced with something cold and distant.
And when Kevin met his eyes—
The door slammed open, the force of it rattling the room.
Neil barely had time to react before the scent hit him—sharp, acrid, furious. Alpha pheromones, aggressive and unchecked.
His breath caught, body going rigid, heart hammering against his ribs as instinct clawed at the edges of his mind. He tightened his grip on Eli, too tight , too protective , as his eyes snapped to the source.
Allison Reynolds and Seth Gordon stormed in, both looking furious, both radiating too much scent, the combined weight of it making Neil’s stomach churn.
Seth sneered at him, the air around him warped by the sheer force of his anger. His scent clashed violently with Kevin’s, two Alphas challenging each other in the worst way, and Neil had to grit his teeth against the overwhelming nausea that threatened to claw up his throat.
He fought the urge to cover his nose. Fought the urge to run .
Allison let out an irritated huff, crossing her arms as she shot Neil a sharp look, something unreadable in her expression. Neil instinctively pulled Eli closer, burying his nose in his son’s scent, his scent, vanilla and blueberries, something safe .
She smirked. Then turned away, dropping onto the couch beside Renee like she hadn’t just upended the entire atmosphere .
The door opened again, and Wymack stepped in, expression drawn, nose wrinkling at the absolute mess of pheromones filling the space. His eyes flicked to Neil, lingering for a second before shifting away.
“You two are finally here,” he said.
“Hello, Coach,” Allison drawled. “Can we do this fast? I’m exhausted from the flight.”
“You’re the one who made us late,” Wymack shot back before turning sharply, pointing a finger at Neil. “First order of business: Neil Josten, our new sub striker. Anything to say, Neil?”
Neil shook his head.
Wymack moved on without pause. “You already met everyone else. Here’s the last of them: Seth Gordon, starting striker, and Allison Reynolds, our defensive dealer. Questions, comments, concerns? Anyone? ”
Seth immediately pointed at Neil and Eli, his scent curling with fury. “I’m fucking concerned—”
Wymack cut him off before he could finish. “Alright then,” he clapped sharply, voice edged with finality. “Stop with your pheromones. You’re suffocating all of us.”
Seth’s jaw clenched, but he relented with a huff, pulling back.
Neil barely stopped himself from sighing in relief.
“Moving on.” Wymack gestured at Abby. “Abby?”
She got up and passed out packets of paper. “Same boring forms as always. Sign your name on the appropriate lines and give these back to me first thing tomorrow. You can’t practice until I have these on file.”
Wymack continued, “Summer practices start at 8:30. Enjoy sleeping in while you can, because we’re moving to 6:00 when the semester starts. We’re meeting at the gym. I repeat, we’re meeting at the gym . If you’re late because you came here instead of there, I will put my shoe through your face. You’ve only been gone for a month. I know you all know how this works.”
“Yes, Coach,” the team chorused.
“Physicals get done before you leave today. Andrew, you’re first. Seth, you’re going second. The rest of you figure it out. Do not leave before you’ve seen Abby. ”
Abby moved to stand behind Kevin, and Wymack hesitated before reaching for another stack of papers. “Last order of business: our schedule.”
“Already?” Matt asked. “It’s only June.”
Neil knew where this was going.
He looked at Kevin—ashen, tense, eyes locked on Wymack like he was bracing for impact.
“We don’t have dates yet,” Wymack said. “But the ERC’s made some changes that will make this spring look like a cakewalk. They’re notifying the coaches in our district one by one to control the fallout . It has potential to get ugly .”
Kevin inhaled sharply.
"How could it be worse than the shit we dealt with last year?" Seth asked.
Matt counted off on his fingers. "The break-ins, threatening phone calls, rabid press, vandalism…"
"Personal favorite was when someone told the police we were running a meth lab out of the dorm," Dan said sourly. "Police raids are awesome."
"The death threats were creative, though," Nicky said. "Maybe this time they'll follow through and actually kill one of us. Let's vote. I nominate Seth."
"Fuck you, faggot," Seth said.
"I don't like that word," Andrew said. "Don't use it."
"I would say 'fuck you, freak', but then you wouldn't know which one of you I was talking to."
"Don't talk to us at all," Aaron said. "You
never have anything useful to say.”
"Enough," Wymack said. "We don't have time for petty bullshit this year. We've got a new school in our district.”
Neil looked at Kevin again, more because of the sudden fear that radiated off the alpha, and it unsettled him in a way he couldn’t explain. Kevin Day wasn’t supposed to be afraid. He was supposed to be arrogant, stubborn, relentless in his pursuit of the game—but not this. Not haunted . It clawed at Neil’s nerves, an unwelcome discomfort settling in his chest. He hated it.
Andrew must have sensed it too, because his gaze flicked to Kevin, assessing. Neil couldn’t pick up any scent from him, but he could see the realization settling over his expression just as Wymack spoke the words that changed everything.
“Edgar Allan’s come south.”
The team went silent. The weight of the announcement crashed down on them, pressing into the space between heartbeats.
Then—
“No way,” Dan said sharply. “That isn’t funny, Coach.”
Seth, apparently, thought otherwise because he started laughing. A sharp, bitter sound.
Aaron, Nicky, and Matt drowned each other out as they demanded explanations. Allison let out a shrill noise of disbelief that left Neil’s ears ringing.
Renee, like Neil, said nothing .
Neil barely heard the chaos around him. His focus was on Kevin—on the sheer terror bleeding from his pores, the way he was staring at his hands, shoulders rigid, face pale.
Neil hated it.
“You hear that, Kevin?” Andrew finally spoke, voice a low drawl as he drummed his fingers on his thigh. “They are coming.”
Kevin’s breath shuddered out of him. “I know,” he whispered.
Andrew’s mouth twitched, an ugly semblance of a smile. “You knew? Since when?”
Wymack answered before Kevin could. “May.”
Andrew raised a brow, twisting in his seat to face Kevin fully. “May. You knew and you didn’t tell me.”
The room went still. The kind of stillness that felt dangerous.
“I told him not to,” Wymack said.
“You picked Coach over me?” Andrew clicked his teeth, mockingly, but there was an edge to it. Something sharp and biting. “Favouritism.”
Kevin shook his head slightly, still fixated on his hands—his left hand, the one that bore the scars of a past neither of them could outrun. “I told you he would come for me,” he whispered.
Andrew followed his gaze, watching the way Kevin’s hand shook despite his efforts to still it.
And the fear—Kevin’s fear—was so strong , so thick in the air that Neil almost felt it as his own . It wrapped around his ribs like invisible binds, constricting, suffocating.
Then—Andrew sighed.
He moved, shifting forward, and raised his hand in front of Kevin’s face, blocking him from looking at his own trembling fingers.
“Look at me,” Andrew ordered.
Kevin did, slowly, as if it took effort . His hands clenched into fists, his breathing uneven.
“Help me,” Kevin said, so quietly it almost didn’t reach Neil’s ears.
Andrew didn’t hesitate. “I promised you, didn’t I?” His voice was calm. Steady . Unshaken in a way Kevin clearly wasn’t . “Don’t you believe me?”
Kevin exhaled, shaky but there , and something in his posture eased . The dead look in his eyes softened, just slightly, as if Andrew’s presence alone was enough to pull him back from whatever abyss he was teetering on the edge of.
Neil should have been impressed. Should have been relieved that Kevin was regaining some semblance of control.
But all he felt was bitterness .
It curdled in his stomach, twisting into something ugly and sour.
He forced himself to look away.
Wymack observed the two of them for a moment longer before nodding. “The ERC will make their official announcement later this month. They agreed to wait until you were all here, where it’s easier for us to protect you. That doesn’t mean you can be careless. Chuck—that’s our university president Charles Whittier, Neil—has reissued orders that reporters stay off our campus without a police escort this summer. You’ll see twice as many campus police around, and I need all of you to save their number to your phones just in case. Understand?”
Neil didn’t own a phone, but he joined the chorus of, “Yes, Coach.”
The room fell quiet again, heavy with unsaid things, with the weight of something none of them could control.
Neil hated it . Hated the silence, hated the tension, hated the storm of emotions wrecking through him.
“Anything else, Coach, or are we finished?” he asked, blunt, pointed.
Dan bristled. “You don’t understand . This is big .”
“ Neil understands ,” Wymack said, cutting her off. “ He’s known with Kevin since May. Yes, you can leave, Neil. ”
Neil didn’t hesitate.
He met Andrew’s gaze—sharp, assessing—but didn’t linger. He turned, picked Eli up into his arms, and walked out.
Someone called his name, but he ignored them.
Unfortunately, Renee caught up to him.
“Neil, you could wait and pick a ride with us,” she suggested. “Or you can wait for Andrew, but unfortunately, he’s a bit too busy with Kevin at the moment.”
Neil wanted to refuse outright, wanted to shake her off and keep walking. But instead, he found himself asking, “ Why does Kevin trust Andrew so much? Is it just because he’s pack?”
Renee smiled, gentle but knowing. “Yes. He knows he can trust him.”
Neil frowned. “ With so much at stake? ” The words felt heavy on his tongue, leaden. “With everything Kevin knows, with everything he’s been through, he just… trusts Andrew? Is that what being in a pack means?”
“With so much at stake,” Renee agreed, “he knows Andrew is enough.”
Enough.
Neil looked at her hand when she held it out. “Neil,” she said, voice soft, as if she could sense his thoughts spiraling. “Please wait for us.”
Neil took a step back. Clutched Eli closer. “ No, thanks. I know the way. ”
Then he was running .
Renee called after him, but he didn’t stop.
Once he hit the pavement, he ran at full speed , lungs burning, legs aching.
And he tried— tried —to scrub the image of Kevin and Andrew from his mind.
The way Kevin reached out. The way Andrew was there without question. The trust, the understanding , the weight that Andrew so effortlessly helped Kevin carry.
It twisted inside Neil, something sharp and bitter, something that sat wrong in his chest.
Because for a moment—a brief moment—he had thought Kevin was like him.
But he wasn’t.
Kevin had someone . Kevin had a pack . Kevin had Andrew, had trust, had security , had someone to rely on .
Kevin wasn’t like him at all.
Neil had no one .
Would never have someone like that.
He stopped at a small children’s park, his breath coming in sharp gasps. He loosened his grip on Eli, setting him down gently.
Eli looked up at him, then around at the nearly empty park. He hesitated before turning back to Neil.
Neil nudged him forward. “ Go play, mon lapin. I’ll be here.”
Eli beamed, his small legs wriggling in excitement before running toward the slide.
Neil collapsed onto the nearest bench, pulling out a cigarette with shaking fingers. He lit it, inhaled deeply, and exhaled the smoke up into the night sky.
He tilted his head back, staring up at the clouds.
And he wondered— if his mother was watching him now . If she was looking down at him, disappointed. Angry.
The way he felt about himself.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered.
His gaze shifted to Eli, to the bright, unburdened smile on his son’s face.
“One of us has to make it, Mom.”
It wouldn’t be Neil. It would never be Neil.
But it would be Eli.
Neil would make sure of it.
He might never have someone to lean on. Never have a pack, never trust someone like that, never allow himself to.
But he would be that person for Eli.
His father might be lurking. The Moriyamas might be coming. Andrew might hold his secrets in his hands.
But Neil wouldn’t fall until he was certain Eli would be safe. Until he was certain that beautiful smile would never leave his son’s face.