RUN, RUSSO, RUN

ALEX

   It’s been five years since I left the Ragriz pack and my hometown altogether, that’s about long enough to forget the shame that had led to my decision to leave everything behind. 

But the sound of my knee popping will forever haunt me. 

One second I was spinning past the defense. The next, a solid wall of muscle named Reid Maddox rammed me so hard into the boards, the lights flickered. 

I remember the silence in the rink being louder than the impact. And after that, the whispers started.

“She doesn’t even have a wolf.”

“Why’d they let her out there in the first place?”

“Replacement for Vicky Deveraux.”

“Russo’s daughter? Please. They just felt sorry for her.”

My pack members were monsters!

They didn’t care that I had been rammed to shit by a rival team mate, they cared that a wolf-less girl had made it to the championship. 

They never acknowledged my years of training, how hard my father made sure, even without my wolf, I could replace any of his team members if it was needed. 

They scorned me. 

Mocked me.

Reminded me—

kshhhhk.

A voice crackles in the airport speaker overhead, “Welcome to Crystal Falls. Please proceed to baggage claim two for all incoming flights from Atlanta.”

I blink.

Right.

I’m here.

Home, apparently. 

This freezing, miserable town.

The cold hits harder than I remember as I toss my bag over my shoulder, grab my rolling suitcase, and force myself out of the double doors.

For minutes, I wait, shaking in my boots. 

Father had told me a ride was coming. What I don’t expect is the ride to be forty minutes late. 

I’m pacing near the curb, ready to scream, when I hear the rumble of an engine. It pulls up slow, tinted windows, black jeep and my stomach fucking drops.

Of course.

Two Deverauxs step out.

Not just anyone.

Valen fucking Deveraux leads the way.

Alpha of the Razgriz Pack. Captain of the team. My team. The last time I saw him, he’d stood in front of the whole locker room, in full uniform, and dumped me like I was nothing. One missed shot, one loss to the Paxon Pack, and suddenly I’d humiliated his position. Made the Alpha look weak. So he reminded everyone who really wore the crown.

Now here he is, doing airport pick-up duty like a fucking Uber driver. His twin, Valerie, walks behind him, rolling her eyes like this is the last place she wants to be. 

I can’t even blame her.

Why him? 

Why them?

Valen’s eyes connect to mine, and it’s like someone shoves a fist into my chest and twists. 

I don’t have time to react when another car pulls up.

A blacked-out SUV this time. 

My eyes widen. 

No.

No, no, no, fuck no. 

My head is shaking before he even fully steps out of the car, because I’d know that presence anywhere. It doesn't matter how many years pass.

Perpetrators have strong imprints on their victims. 

And sure enough, my senses don’t lie, Reid Maddox steps out. Paxon Pack royalty, my personal fucking hell.

I swear the concrete trembles beneath his feet. 

My brain fries trying to process what the hell is happening.

Why the two Alphas from rival packs, and rival hockey teams are standing right here, together, waiting like this is some kind of casual airport pickup.

Royalty. 

Both of them. 

Huge, tall, arrogant dicks, too handsome for the eyes. 

There’s distinct features between them. 

Valen Deveraux’s the laid-back one, he has droopy eyes, calm face, that dead-inside Anakin vibe like he’s seen some shit and couldn’t care less. 

Reid Maddox looks like fucking trouble. Tousled hair, smug smile, eyes that immediately scan me like I’m meat. 

They’re total opposites, but if I didn’t know they’ve nearly beat each other’s brains out on the ice more than once, I’d swear they are brothers.

It won’t take long before the paparazzi start snapping pictures and fans start crowding around, screaming, filming, and posting. Werewolf clans may have kept themselves buried from the human world, hidden in plain sight…But these two?

Valen and Reid?

Even humans know them. The best hockey players to ever exist. Their names were everywhere, sports blogs, tabloid articles, magazine covers. Just enough glamor to distract from the beast underneath.

I’m still trying to get air back into my lungs when it happens, squeals and screeches surround us. 

Fans pour in from every corner. 

“Oh my god, that’s Reid fucking Maddox!”

“Valen’s here too, what the hell, are they filming something?”

“Wait, they came to pick her up?”

“Is she famous?”

“Get a video! Get a fucking video!”

I don’t wait for them to GET A VIDEO. 

I do the thing I’ve always resorted to at the first sight of danger in my entire life. 

I run.

I drag my bags behind me like an idiot, the tyres clatter against concrete, they slow me down.

Screw them. 

I let go, drop the handle, and take off full speed. 

My eyes are burning as I run, and a few drops fall to my cheeks before I realise I’m crying.

My father and I had reached a conclusion before I got on the plane. I would return to Crystal Falls, but not to the team, not to the pack, I will stay at the outskirts of the pack's territory and keep a low profile. 

I should have known he was baiting me. 

Seeing Valen and Reid standing side by side like that is a dangerous combo. I don’t know what the hell they’re planning, but I know it’s not going to end nice for me. 

I crash hard into a man’s shoulder. 

He curses. 

I mumble an apology without stopping. 

Someone’s kid yelps as I dodge around them. 

A woman swings her bag too wide and it catches my hip. 

Doesn’t slow me down. 

I glance over my shoulder once, twice, nearly tripping as I skid through the airport. 

They’re not behind me.

I make the mistake of slowing down, because when I whip back around, I slam right into a body. 

The breath leaves me on impact and my knees jolt, like they remember. 

He’s too fast. 

He always has been.

His grip clamps around my wrists before I can get out a full gasp, he hauls me towards him. I yank back with everything in me. 

Nothing. 

The fucker doesn’t even blink.

His head tilts like he finds this amusing. “You know what, Lexy? It’s kind of cute, how your first instinct is to run when you see me.” A grin stretches his lips, “But come on, do me the honour of saying hello first. It’s been five years.”

Reid Maddox. My lungs hitch. My body is quivering like I’m about to pass out, and I swear my heart gives out. 

He leans in, breathes me in deep, like he’s waited years to get his fix. Then he growls, “Mate.”

Not figuratively.

Literally.

I think I flatline.

I think I fucking flatline.

Fuck my life.