He only nods, still looking miserable about his full name being discovered.
“I wish I had been named after a video game character,” Opal says.
Rory scoffs. “You have the prettiest name. It’s literally agemstone.”
“Yeah, at least your name doesn’t mean ‘baby mink,’” I tell her, which makes her laugh.
“You kind of look like a mink,” Dax says.
Everyone laughs, including myself, but I still narrow my eyes at him playfully. “Shut up, Daxter.”
Before the teasing can continue, the draft starts, and everyone mingling quiets down to pay attention. Dax gets his camera ready as they start the round picks, going through the first one with ease as the more known teams pick their new members.
“How many rounds are there?” I ask Opal.
“Fuck, I don’t know. There can’t be more than ten, right?”
“There are seven,” Sam informs us before he goes back to watching silently.
“That still feels like a lot for this pace,” I comment.
“How did we end up surrounded by so many athletes?”
“Beats me. It’s kind of hilarious, though.”
When the third round starts, I get a bit anxious. What if he doesn’t get picked? Will we all leave Alpha Xi in a solemn mood? Will Pack Pearson be okay? I’ve never had these thoughts before, where our friends could be let down in such a major way. I wasn’t ready for this when I met my pack, didn’t understand how interconnected our group would be. I felt like this was a silly party when we first got here, but now it feels serious as we wait, when Atlas’ name might not be called at all.
As soon as my thoughts start spiraling, the announcer steps up to announce the next pick. Something in my stomach twists, and I grab onto Opal’s hands, my instincts going haywire in my chest. My heart pumps wildly as he talks into the microphone.
“—the fourth pick in the third round of the draft, the Washington Capitals select… from Bensen, Massachusetts, Atlas Pearson!”
There’s a rush of energy as we all stand up, rationalthinking and logic leaving us as we all scream at the top of our lungs. The screen shows Pack Pearson as Atlas stands up and turns to Stacia, giving her a kiss that’s full of relief and love. We can see Ciro jumping up and down, Kendall and Uriah poking out beside him to pat him on the back. And then he’s walking down to the stage to get his jersey as an official member of a professional hockey team. My heart is still pumping, and everyone around us is ecstatic as they jump around, hugging each other. The frat members start to do some weird, guy chant that actually makes me smile.
Someone shoots off a mini cannon of confetti—that Sam rolls his eyes at because he’ll definitely have to clean it later—and it hits me then that I am so glad I had an affinity for picnics in the quad, or I would have never met the loves of my life or this group of people. A foundation so full of endless devotion and support.
I kiss Opal, needing to release the emotion flowing inside of me, and she lets me pull her all the way in.
And it’s the best feeling in the world, to be completely, utterly, and finally hers.
EPILOGUE
10 Years Later
“You need to slow down.” The stern but soft voice comes from my left and cuts right through the accelerated thoughts in my head. My alpha’s baritone pulls me back, but I can still feel the familiar sensation of stress pumping energy in my veins.
“But, they’re going to be here soon,” I try to argue, even though I know I’ll lose. “And I still haven’t made the mac and cheese buffet. Or even cut the vegetables for the tray!”
Sam’s hands go to my shoulders and give the smallest amount of pressure to ease the tension in my muscles. “Thatcher is cutting the vegetables as we speak. And Kit just put the noodles in the strainer.”
“But Thatcher doesn’t cut them right,” I mutter to myself, and Sam snorts in amusement.
“I know you want everything to be perfect,” he says as he pulls me into his body. His apple scent is anything but muted as it mingles with my own, easing my strain with every inhale. “But they’re going to be happy to see you no matter what. Justlike your brother was when he came up with his pack last month.”
My lips immediately purse at that. He’s right to remind me. I was just as stressed out over Riley’s family coming to visit, but no matter what I did, nothing went right. His child decided last minute that he was vegan and didn’t tell anyone, so Thatcher went on an impromptu store run. It took him so long that we all thought he got lost, but really, he was googling everything to make sure it was vegan. By the time he got back and we started to make dinner, Jemma—despite her aversion to climbing up on the counters in her old age—decided to knock the ingredients right off the counter, apparently offended by the smell of soy cheese. I was a wreck, but Riley and the rest of his pack thought it was a memorable time, and the children loved Jemma despite her role in ruining our dinner.
In the end, we got subs from a place nearby, so everyone could get what they wanted. It was actually one of the best meals I’ve ever had, and it was good to finally relax and just enjoy the time I got with my brother. When they left to go further east to visit the rest of our family, I was emotional, but my mates let me blame it on the hormones.
Which are, by the way, fuckinghorrible.
