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Penulis: Ona Hearts
last update Tanggal publikasi: 2026-10-15 13:09:39

Asher’s POV

Across the ice, three opposing defensemen snapped upright simultaneously, nostrils flaring, eyes locking onto Rowan where she sat tangled against the boards. Their wolf instincts spiked hot, territorial, and predatory.

My vision narrowed to a dangerous, pitch-black tunnel.

I didn't skate—I exploded. I covered ten feet in two strides, throwing my heavy frame straight between Rowan and the advancing players, squaring my shoulders and letting out a low, vibrating Alpha command rattl
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  • Oops! The Hockey Captain Is My Alpha    0034

    Asher’s POV Across the ice, three opposing defensemen snapped upright simultaneously, nostrils flaring, eyes locking onto Rowan where she sat tangled against the boards. Their wolf instincts spiked hot, territorial, and predatory. My vision narrowed to a dangerous, pitch-black tunnel. I didn't skate—I exploded. I covered ten feet in two strides, throwing my heavy frame straight between Rowan and the advancing players, squaring my shoulders and letting out a low, vibrating Alpha command rattle from my chest that made the nearest defender stumble back half a step. Mason was right beside me a heartbeat later, dropping his stick and cross-checking a stray forward who tried to crane his neck past my shoulder. "Back off!" I roared, my voice echoing off the ice sheets. "Play's dead!" Before the territorial tension could boil into a bench-clearing brawl, Coach Brooks blew a sharp, triple-blast on his whistle, his voice cutting through the arena over the public address mic. "Clear the

  • 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

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