Chapter 97

Zane’s POV

“You should find her and make sure she’s fine.”

I kept my voice sharp over the mind-link, but Vivian’s answer came back cool.

“What about her?”

My fingers curled into fists under the table. Every muscle in my chest itched to move, to do something. “Vivian.”

“She’s a big girl,” she said. “I’m sure she’s fine.”

“You’re disobeying me?” My aura slipped, a warning pulse that made nearby Alphas glance my way. I forced it down before anyone noticed too much.

Vivian stiffened. Brave, stubborn, but not stupid. She knew one wrong move could split me from Tyler, and none of us wanted that.

Still, she wasn’t giving me what I needed. Not about Mabel.

“Calm down, Alpha,” Vivian said with an even tone, her words more formal now. “You don’t want your guests suspecting anything. Mabel is safe. I’m keeping an eye on her.”

Safe. The word barely eased the weight in my chest.

On the field, the referee wrapped up his speech to the players. I rose from the VIP box, microphone in hand.

“Thank you all for joining us to celebrate the Summer Solstice.”

The crowd answered with cheers.

Out of the corner of my eye, I searched the substitutes’ bench. Mabel stood among them, head bowed. My voice echoed over the speakers, but she wasn’t looking at me. Not once.

Mabel’s POV

Zane’s voice came through the speakers like static, blurred under the noise of my own thoughts.

He stood tall beside Vivian, Tyler, Adrian, Navy, Sullivan, and the others. His presence was cold, untouchable. That wasn’t the Zane who held me close earlier. That was Alpha Zane, the one who ruled over everything.

I lowered my head. I didn’t want to see him like that. I didn’t belong in that circle.

The memory of him doing nothing when I was accused of stealing food pressed against my chest. Him letting Isabel get too close. The first time I saw him with Lydia on his lap. Every piece of it reminded me where I stood.

Not by his side.

For a moment, I almost laughed at myself. I had built another Zane in my head, one who was clingy, gentle, playful. A Zane who called me Mrs. Blake. That Zane wasn’t real.

A hand squeezed my shoulder.

“Are you OK?” Ronan asked quietly. “If this team spirit thing isn’t for you, you don’t have to do it.”

I blinked back the sting in my eyes and forced a smile. “The game’s starting. Where would you find another cute girl to cheer for you?”

He paused, then chuckled when he caught his own words thrown back at him. “You’ll do fine, Mabel.”

The whistle blew. The stadium roared.

The ball shot across the field, players chasing hard. My chest thudded with every turn of play. When Iver sprinted forward, his tattooed arm pumping like he really was the cheetah inked there, I leapt to my feet.

Two defenders closed in. Iver went down hard, clutching his leg.

Gasps echoed through the stands. The referee waved medics over. Trav met them halfway as Iver was carried off the field.

Ronan’s jaw tightened. “How is he?”

Trav crouched by the stretcher. “Not broken, but swelling fast. Needs an x-ray.”

“I’m playing.” Iver gritted his teeth. “Ice it, drug me, whatever. My wolf will heal. I’ve had worse.”

Ronan and Trav traded a look. Iver wasn’t backing down.

“If you’re not better in ten minutes, hospital,” Trav muttered, then waved at me. “Mabel, help me with the ice.”

I rushed forward, relieved to be useful.

Trav sprayed a numbing mist over Iver’s bruised leg and handed me a pack. “Flip it every minute. Don’t let it slip.”

I pressed the cold bag to Iver’s skin, watching the game continue while his teammates shouted from the bench.