Page 89 of False Catch

"Will have to deal with it. There's nothing in the rules that says an Omega can't cox. Nothing that says we can't be friends with our cox. The mixed-designation thing is to prevent conflicts in an athletic setting, not a law."

"They could still make our lives hell."

"They already are." He squeezes my hand. "Question is whether we let them win or we fight for what we want."

I think about the team. Gray's desperate need for control masking his fear. Jackson's newfound confidence. Eli's quiet strength. Zane's genuine warmth. Beckett's hidden depths. Tyler's practical protection. Cameron's silent support.

"They might not want to fight," I say. "They might decide it's easier to let me go."

"Then they're not the men I think they are." Bo stands, pulling me up with him. "But there's only one way to find out."

We clean up in comfortable silence, then pack our few things. The cabin already feels like a memory, a pocket of peace outside the chaos waiting for us.

"Thank you," I tell him as he loads the truck. "For this. For last night. For not letting me run."

"Always," he says simply before leaning over and kissing me hard on the lips. "That's what pack does."

The drive back to campus feels shorter than yesterday's escape. With every mile, I can feel the weight settling back on my shoulders, but it's different now. Lighter, maybe. Or maybe I'm just stronger after being reminded I don't have to carry it alone.

"Afternoon practice is at four," I say as we near campus. "That gives us a few hours to—"

"To let everyone know we're back and we're not giving up," Bo finishes. "I'll text the group. Team meeting at three."

"Gray won't like that."

"Gray's not the only one who gets to make decisions." He glances at me. "Neither are you, by the way. We're all in this together."

He's right. I've been trying to manage everything myself, just like Gray's been trying to control everything himself. Maybe that's part of the problem. We've been acting like individual pieces instead of a unit.

"Okay," I agree simply.

Bo pulls into the team house parking lot. Several cars are already there, including Gray's Range Rover and Cameron’s bike.

"Ready?" Bo asks.

I think about the mess waiting inside. The fractured relationships, the administrative pressure, the regatta tomorrow that we're completely unprepared for.

"No," I admit. "But that's never stopped me before."

He comes around to open my door, offering a hand down from the truck. "That's my girl."

The possessive note in his voice should bother me. Should trigger all my independent instincts. Instead, it makes me feel grounded. Claimed, but not owned. Protected, but not diminished.

I wrap my arms around his waist and look up at him. His own arms wrap around my back and he gives me a warm smile. “Let’s go put this back together,” I say. “Somehow.”

We walk into the team house side by side, ready for whatever comes next. The living room goes silent when we enter. Gray's at the table with his laptop, probably obsessing over lineups. Jackson and Eli are on the couch, sitting closer than they would have a week ago. Zane's in the kitchen, baking something sweet from the smell of it.

"Look who decided to show up," Gray says, his tone arctic.

"We need to talk," I tell him. Tell all of them. "About the team. About tomorrow. About everything."

"Talking hasn't gotten us very far," Gray points out.

"Because we've been talking around the problem instead of addressing it," Bo says. "That stops now."

Tyler appears from the hallway, Cameron and Beckett behind him. The whole team, gathered without being summoned. Like they were waiting for something. Maybe for this.

"So talk," Gray challenges, sitting back in his chair and throwing an arm over the one beside him. Challenging us with that authority that makes him infuriating and impossible to resist at the same time.