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~047: šHeat
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2025-08-18 21:51:14
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A NERD FOR THE HOCKEY ALPHAĀ Ā Ā ~047: šHeat
RonanI carry Calla in my arms, bridal style, her head heavy against my chest. Sheās still groggy, drifting in and out of awareness, and every step I take rattles through me. Her scent clings to the air, thick, intoxicating, sweet in a way that burns down my throat. Itās different now. Sharper. Heavier. The kind of scent that claws at my control and drags everything primal inside me to the surface.The music downstairs is still loud. The party hasnāt slowed, laughter and voices bleeding through the walls, but I donāt stop. I slip us through the back door and up the stairs before anyone notices. My hold on her tightens the moment she stirs. Her body is burning up, skin flushed, her pulse too fast against my arm.I know what this is.Heat.The word itself sinks into me like a blade. My chest tightens as I shoulder my way into my room and kick the door shut behind me. I set her down on the bed as carefully as I can, but the second her body leaves mine, I already miss the feel of her. My
A NERD FOR THE HOCKEY ALPHAĀ Ā Ā ~046: They are here
RonanThe stench of them hits me firstāiron, 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.āTo kill her,ā my wolf growls inside me, deep and primal, hot fury rushing through my veins. āTheyāre here for her. For our mate.āThe tallest of the three snarls, his lip curling. āI smell her on you. But not you on her.ā His voice is guttural, dripping with contempt. āYou havenāt claimed her. That makes her weak. Easy prey.āA 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. āSheās not yours to touch.āThe second wolf, broader, with a scar tearing across his muzzle, laughs. āSheās not yours either. Not really. The council doesnāt allow humans to live once theyāve seen too
A NERD FOR THE HOCKEY ALPHAĀ Ā Ā ~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 donāt 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. āRelax,ā 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. Iām thinking of turning back when the growl arrives behind me.It is big. It drags a
A NERD FOR THE HOCKEY ALPHAĀ Ā Ā ~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. āCrew house tonight. There's a Team party.āBefore I answer, Sasha strides over with Serene and Tara flanking her. Sashaās ponytail is too glossy. āMandatory attendance,ā she says, looking right at me. āEveryoneās going. And before you get ideas, itās not optional. Hockey team. Cheer squad. Youāre in the cheer squad, so congratulations, youāre invited.āShe doesnāt smile, doesnāt bother to make it sound friendly. Itās obvious she hates even saying the words to me. If it wasnāt some mandatory team thing, I know sheād never bother.Serene giggles into her phone. Tara looks me up and down. Sashaās eyes flick, satisfied. āGreat. See you there. Wear something that isn't a hoodie or a checkered shirt.ā She pivots and clips away.Blaire mutters, āI hate her.āāWelcome to the club,ā I say. My che
A NERD FOR THE HOCKEY ALPHAĀ Ā Ā ~043: Eyes off the Captain Calla
CallaāAlright, Icewolves!ā Coach Halfordās voice booms. āLine up, full sprints, letās move!āThe 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. Itās general practice day, which means everybodyās out here at once, trying to look like the best version of themselves while pretending they arenāt checking out everyone else.Iām standing at the edge of the cheer zone, my pom-poms hanging loose at my sides while we stretch in formation. The hockey teamās just a few yards away, their coach pacing with a whistle around his neck, barking orders like heās 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.āICE!ā āWOLVES!ā āICE!ā āWOLVES!āI steal a glance over at them - t
A NERD FOR THE HOCKEY ALPHAĀ Ā Ā ~042: Next Big Game
RonanThe clang of metal against metal echoes through the team house gym, the sound bouncing off the concrete walls like weāre inside a giant drum. Casenās grunting through his last set on the bench press, veins popping across his forearms, sweat rolling down his temple. Iām 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.Itās one of those mornings where weāre not really talking, just trading the occasional grunt or nod. Casen racks the bar and lets out a low whistle. āThatās my new PR.ā 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. Thereās a difference. Her hairās pulled back tight, her jaw ev
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