Page 55 of Puck Your Bunny

"Get in the middle of the room." I wave Kel away from the door. "Bring her over here. Keep her and Brendan behind us so the camera just sees us."

Kel nods, standing in the middle of the rug and crossing his arms.

Wally walks Vayda over to the sofa, kisses the top of her head, and steps up next to Kel. They stand shoulder to shoulder, forming a solid wall.

I unlock my phone, ignoring the text notifications and missed calls from our agent. I open my official social media page. We have millions of followers who check in for game updates and locker room jokes. Tonight, they get a reality check.

The media thinks they have the upper hand. They think leaking a story means they own us. But they underestimate the Canval Reapers. We are used to pressure. We handle fights on the ice all the time, and we can handle this one right here in our living room.

I step up beside Wally and frame the shot to get the three of us. I angle the phone high so the background is just the ceiling and a blank wall, making sure Vayda and Brendan stay out of the frame. Their privacy is the priority.

My thumb hovers over the button. The crowd outside chants Vayda's name, demanding she come out. They want to tear her down just for being with three younger Alphas.

"Ready?" I look between the two of them.

Kel nods. Wally sets his jaw.

I tap the screen.

The red icon flashes in the corner of the screen. The viewer count ticks upward in a blur of changing numbers. Five hundred.Ten thousand. Fifty thousand. The numbers climb at a dizzying speed. The fans are awake. They wait for a response to the article. The comments section turns into a scrolling waterfall of text.

I stare into the camera lens.

"My name is Simon Clark." I keep my voice steady, even with the anger simmering just beneath the surface. "You all know Wally Nelson and Kel Lars. We play for the Reapers. Tonight you read a garbage article on a tabloid site and many of you have opinions and are attacking a woman without all the information."

The viewer count hits one hundred thousand.

"Right now, there is a mob of paparazzi standing on a residential lawn." I point my thumb toward the window. "They are banging on windows. They are terrorizing a home for no other reason than baseless claims from gossip trash."

Kel shifts his weight. His presence fills the space beside me.

"The Sin Bin Insider called Vayda Moore a burnt-out widow. They called her a puck bunny.” I let the disgust coat my words. “Let me make this crystal clear for every single person watching. Vayda Moore is our Omega. She is our scent match. We submitted our compatibility blood tests to the League this morning."

The last part is a white-lie, but it will happen sooner rather than later.

The scrolling comments freeze for a fraction of a second. The internet absorbs the confession. Then the chat swells. The text moves so fast it becomes a white blur.

"We pursued her." I lean closer to the phone. "Not the other way around. She honors the memory of her late mates every single day. She built a life based on loyalty and resilience. We begged her to let us in."

I feel Vayda watching us from the sofa. The scent of her distress begins to fade. A warm note of awe replaces the bitter fear. Her scent wraps around my senses. It fuels the fire in my blood.

"You think an age gap matters to us?" I scoff. "You think a few years changes the truth? She is our scent matched Omega. We plan to spend the rest of our lives taking care of her and Brendan. He is also part of our family and we will do anything for him."

Wally steps forward. He fills the right side of the screen. His expression is cold. The playful center the fans know is gone.

"To the people standing on our lawn." Wally speaks with a low rumble. "You have five minutes to get off the grass. The local police are on their way. We plan to file trespassing charges. We will pursue severe legal consequences against anyone who publishes unauthorized photos of this house."

Wally stares into the lens. The intensity in his eyes promises violence.

"You want a scandal?" Wally asks. "There is no scandal. We love her. We claim her. If any publication prints another word slandering her name, my lawyers will bankrupt your company. This will not effect us winning the Alpha Cup. We plan to win, and she motivates us more than you will ever know."

Kel leans in from the left.

"Get off our property." Kel snarls. "Before I go out there and remove you myself."

I pull the phone back. I frame the three of us one last time. A united front. The League will lose their minds over this broadcast. The PR department will have a collective heart attack. The Canval Reapers’ first-line just bypassed the entire corporate machine.

"We bleed for this city on the ice, and we will bleed for our Omega. Do not test us."