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publish date:
2026-10-08 05:17:09
Latest chapter
Oops! The Hockey Captain Is My Alpha 0033
Rowan’s Pov Coach Brooks’ warning about hiding hung over my head, making my fingers twitch on my stick tape all through Wednesday morning. If you’re going to stay on my team, you can’t keep hiding from me. Did he know I was an Omega? Did he mean my fake background? Or did he see the medical patch taped to my ribs and decide to give me a chance to talk before he dropped the hammer? Panic wanted to pull me down a rabbit hole of worst-case scenarios, making me second-guess every crossover stride. During our afternoon shooting reps on the practice sheet, Asher walked right into my head with a smirk and a bucket of pucks. "Eyes up, Hayes. You're thinking about the Coach's office instead of the top corner. Change of rules: every missed wrister means you drop a piece of personal lore. First mistake. Go." I fired high and wide off the iron bar. CLANG. Asher raised an eyebrow, leaning on his stick. "Well? Favorite childhood memory not involving an illegal hockey game?" "Fine," I grunte
Oops! The Hockey Captain Is My Alpha 0032
Rowan’s Pov Number 14—gone from the Thursday line sheet. Replaced by a transfer I hadn't even seen take a penalty-kill shift yet. Anger, hot and sharp enough to taste, flooded my mouth. I stepped forward, chest heaving, ready to tear Coach Brooks apart right there in the corridor. "Coach, my skating metrics are top three on the squad," I snapped, my voice shaking with fury. "I haven't missed a single execution drill—" "You missed your mandatory league medical clearance sign-off, Hayes," Coach interrupted, his voice flat, final, and immovable. He tapped the pink slip with a heavy thumb. "Administrative flagged a discrepancy on your pre-season panel. Until Nurse Evans signs off on a physical fitness review, you're benched from contact rotation. Safety protocol. Non-negotiable." Someone reported me. Bianca. Or one of the old-world pack snitches tracking my hallway routes. Panic clawed up my throat, telling me to run, pack the bag, bolt for the midnight bus before the board dragged
Oops! The Hockey Captain Is My Alpha 0031
Asher’s Pov My wolf didn't just wake up—it slammed its hands on the glass of my chest and tried to tear its way out into the dark. I stood frozen against the concrete courtyard pillar, my hands locked into Rowan’s jacket, my mind short-circuiting. Alphas drilled pack laws into our heads before we could skate backwards: a wolf’s recognition isn't a guess, a mood, or a romantic spark. Yet, looking down at Rowan’s wide, terrified dark eyes, I swallowed the word mate back down my throat. I couldn't drop that kind of old-world pack earthquake on her while she was already holding her whole life together with medical tape and stubborn grit. "Asher?" she whispered, her voice trembling as she felt the unnatural tension vibrating under my skin. "Your eyes are... what's happening?" I forced my jaw to unhinge, breathing out a slow, stabilizing cloud of white mist into the night air. I loosened my grip on her jacket, sliding my palms up to cup the sides of her face, anchoring myself to her w
Oops! The Hockey Captain Is My Alpha 0030
Rowan’s Pov Bianca’s poison lingered in the cold hallway air, yet Asher didn't flinch, didn't pull away, and didn't ask a single panicked question. He just locked his jaw, stepped back in front of me like an iron shield, and walked me the final ten feet into Suite 301. That silence spoke louder than words. He chose me over her mind games. Over the next few days, our quiet survival truce melted into something dangerously real. It wasn't about hiding anymore; it was about building a normal life underneath the radar. Mornings started with hot coffee poured just the way I liked it, heavy cream, half a packet of raw sugar, sitting beside my cereal bowl I even dragged myself out of bed. My stick bag stopped living in the dark corner of the closet and shared the front rack right next to his Nightfall-issue gear. After practice, a cold vanilla protein shake and a peanut butter granola bar were always waiting on my locker bench like clockwork. Grand gestures are loud, fake, and easy.
Oops! The Hockey Captain Is My Alpha 0029
Asher’s Pov I drove her past the donor wings and the glowing arena lights, bumping down an old, unpaved service road behind the faculty housing. The trees parted to reveal the old outdoor community sheet—cracked asphalt underneath peeling yellow boards. Rowan stepped out of the truck, wrapping my dark jacket tighter around her shoulders, her breath puffing white in the sharp night air. She looked around, taking in the raw, unpolished edges of the rink where I spent every winter night from age six until junior league picked me up. "My dad never came out here," I said, walking over to lean my forearms against the weathered boards, staring down at the scuffed white surface. "When we won our first regional peewee championship, I skated off the ice holding the trophy like I expected him to smile. He just handed me a bottle of water and told me the defensive positioning in the second period was sloppy." Rowan walked up beside me, her shoulder pressing warm against mine. She didn't of
Oops! The Hockey Captain Is My Alpha 0028
Rowan’s Pov Waking up safe in Suite 301 felt like stepping into a dream I didn't want to wake from, especially after Asher spent the whole night guarding my door like a carved stone statue. Over the next few days, my world flipped upside down—in a good way. The We stopped pretending we were just grumpy roommates sharing a locker line. Our secret turned into a dangerous, electric game of stolen moments. A quick kiss pressed against the cold brick in a deserted third-floor hallway between classes, our breath mingling in the drafty air. A low murmur across the training table during team lunch where his shoulder pressed flush against mine under the bench. A heavy, calloused thumb casually brushing the inside of my wrist while Coach drew out penalty-kill diagrams on the board. Every touch sent a hot jolt straight to my toes, making my stomach flip with nervous, giddy excitement. Of course, hockey boys are blind to nothing. Mason caught Asher staring down at his phone mid-stretch in
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