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~030: Calla
Last Updated:
2025-08-09 00:10:08
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A NERD FOR THE HOCKEY ALPHA ~046: They are here
RonanThe stench of them hits me first—iron, dirt, and the sour tang of bloodlust. Three wolves fan out in front of me, their eyes bright with malice, their hackles raised. Strangers, not from my pack. Not rogues either. Their scent is too clean, too structured. They belong somewhere. And they were sent.“To kill her,” my wolf growls inside me, deep and primal, hot fury rushing through my veins. “They’re here for her. For our mate.”The tallest of the three snarls, his lip curling. “I smell her on you. But not you on her.” His voice is guttural, dripping with contempt. “You haven’t claimed her. That makes her weak. Easy prey.”A low rumble tears through my chest before I even register it. My wolf pushes hard against my skin, claws scraping from within, eager to rip out. I grit my teeth. “She’s not yours to touch.”The second wolf, broader, with a scar tearing across his muzzle, laughs. “She’s not yours either. Not really. The council doesn’t allow humans to live once they’ve seen too
A NERD FOR THE HOCKEY ALPHA ~045: Night Run Gone Wrong
CallaI walk deeper into the woods to clear my head, because the party noise keeps bouncing in my skull and I want leaves and night to scrub it out. The path narrows and the brush snags my leggings. The air is wet and cold, full of pine and mud. An owl hoots once. Far away, water murmurs. I tell myself this is fine. It is just trees and me, and trees do not gossip.I don’t check my phone. If I look, everything I fled climbs back in. I count breaths the way Blaire taught me. Four in, four out. Calm, calm. My heart ignores me.Something moves to my left, low and deliberate. I stop, listening. The wind hushes, the branches settle, and all I can hear is my own breath. “Relax,” I whisper, like that ever works. I step again and snap a twig. The crack ricochets. Smooth, Calla. Stealth queen.The moon slides from behind a cloud and folds a pale sheet over everything. The path looks friendly for half a second. I’m thinking of turning back when the growl arrives behind me.It is big. It drags a
A NERD FOR THE HOCKEY ALPHA ~044: Unwanted
CallaPractice ends with my lungs hot and my legs buzzing. Sweat sticks my ponytail to my neck. We are packing up, water bottles clacking.Blaire bumps her shoulder into mine as we shoulder our bags. “Crew house tonight. There's a Team party.”Before I answer, Sasha strides over with Serene and Tara flanking her. Sasha’s ponytail is too glossy. “Mandatory attendance,” she says, looking right at me. “Everyone’s going. And before you get ideas, it’s not optional. Hockey team. Cheer squad. You’re in the cheer squad, so congratulations, you’re invited.”She doesn’t smile, doesn’t bother to make it sound friendly. It’s obvious she hates even saying the words to me. If it wasn’t some mandatory team thing, I know she’d never bother.Serene giggles into her phone. Tara looks me up and down. Sasha’s eyes flick, satisfied. “Great. See you there. Wear something that isn't a hoodie or a checkered shirt.” She pivots and clips away.Blaire mutters, “I hate her.”“Welcome to the club,” I say. My che
A NERD FOR THE HOCKEY ALPHA ~043: Eyes off the Captain Calla
Calla“Alright, Icewolves!” Coach Halford’s voice booms. “Line up, full sprints, let’s move!”The morning air is crisp enough to sting my nose, and the faint smell of cut grass clings to every breath. The open field is buzzing - whistles, sneakers pounding the turf, shouts echoing from both the hockey side and the cheer section. It’s general practice day, which means everybody’s out here at once, trying to look like the best version of themselves while pretending they aren’t checking out everyone else.I’m standing at the edge of the cheer zone, my pom-poms hanging loose at my sides while we stretch in formation. The hockey team’s just a few yards away, their coach pacing with a whistle around his neck, barking orders like he’s conducting a boot camp.The sound of cleats tearing into turf is sharp, almost rhythmic. They break into their chant as they run, voices deep and rough enough to rumble through the morning air.“ICE!” “WOLVES!” “ICE!” “WOLVES!”I steal a glance over at them - t
A NERD FOR THE HOCKEY ALPHA ~042: Next Big Game
RonanThe clang of metal against metal echoes through the team house gym, the sound bouncing off the concrete walls like we’re inside a giant drum. Casen’s grunting through his last set on the bench press, veins popping across his forearms, sweat rolling down his temple. I’m leaning against the squat rack with my water bottle, scrolling through nothing on my phone just to keep my hands busy. The smell in here is the usual cocktail of sweat, rubber mats, and whatever protein powder someone spilled earlier.It’s one of those mornings where we’re not really talking, just trading the occasional grunt or nod. Casen racks the bar and lets out a low whistle. “That’s my new PR.” He wipes his forehead with the bottom of his shirt, flashing the kind of abs that make girls follow his Instagram for the wrong reasons.Before I can throw a sarcastic congratulations his way, the door swings open and Blaire strides in. Not walks. Strides. There’s a difference. Her hair’s pulled back tight, her jaw ev
A NERD FOR THE HOCKEY ALPHA ~041
CallaAs soon as I walk into the practice hall, my stomach sinks. For a second I think it’s about something else. Then Sasha’s voice cuts over the noise, sharp and bright.“There she is,” she says, like a spotlight switched on.Phones surf the room. Heads tilt toward the same small rectangle of light. Blaire’s hand tightens on her water bottle and I can tell she’s seen whatever is on that screen already. My throat goes dry.Sasha holds her phone up like it’s a trophy. “You should really see this, Calla. Truly cinematic.” She taps play, smug as hell.The clip is grainy, shadows and bad angles. At first I thought it must be another stupid prank, someone using a doppelgänger or a costume. Then the figure in the clip presses itself against a brick wall, lips crushing against someone who looks a lot like Wyatt. The jacket, the jawline, the way the light hits the side of his face — it looks real enough. There’s a stupid, sick churn in my stomach, like I swallowed a stone.This is not me. I
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