Seven Alpha Bullies Want the Hockey Omega

Meera's POV

I stared at my laptop screen until my eyes burned, reading the same paragraph over and over again like it might magically change if I blinked hard enough.

Requirements for Exclusive Hockey Player Position - Royal Ashford Pack

My heart had been racing when I first opened the email. This was it. The job I'd been dreaming about since I was fifteen years old, watching the Royal Ashford team destroy their opponents on the ice. Working for the leading royal werewolf family wasn't just a job—it was the job. The kind of position that would make everyone back home finally shut up about how I'd never amount to anything.

But then I got to the third requirement, and my whole world tilted sideways.

Must possess an active wolf form.

"What the hell?" I muttered, my fingers gripping the edge of my desk so hard my knuckles went white.

I read it again. And again. The words didn't change.

Active wolf form. Active wolf form. Like it was the most casual thing in the world, like asking someone if they had a driver's license or knew how to use Excel.

My chest felt tight, and that familiar burning sensation crept up my throat—the same feeling I got every time someone reminded me of what I didn't have. What I was supposed to have but didn't.

I was twenty-two years old, a werewolf without a wolf. A complete joke in our world.

My phone buzzed on the desk, and Kyra's name flashed across the screen. I grabbed it, needing to hear someone else's voice before I completely lost it.

"They want a wolf," I blurted out the second I answered.

"Well, yeah," Kyra said, like I was stating the obvious. "It's the Royal Ashford Pack, babe. Of course they want a wolf."

"But I don't have one!" My voice came out sharper than I meant it to, frustration bubbling over. "This was supposed to be my shot, Kyra. My chance to finally prove I'm worth something in this world. And now—"

"Okay, okay, breathe," she interrupted, her tone shifting to that soothing voice she used when I was spiraling. "Come over. We need to talk about this face to face."

Twenty minutes later, I was sitting on her worn-out couch, a cup of tea I wasn't drinking clutched between my hands. Kyra sat cross-legged across from me, her dark eyes studying my face like she was trying to solve a puzzle.

"So," she said slowly, "you know there's a way to get your wolf, right?"

I looked up at her, my stomach doing a weird flip. "Don't start with that fortune teller nonsense again."

"It's not nonsense!" Kyra leaned forward, her expression serious. "Meera, she told you exactly what you needed to do. You just didn't want to hear it."

I set the tea down on the coffee table, harder than necessary. The memory of that day came rushing back—sitting in that tiny, incense-filled room while some old woman with cloudy eyes stared at me like she could see straight through to my soul.

"You'll get your wolf when you mate," she'd said, her voice raspy and certain. "Not before."

I'd walked out thinking it was complete garbage. A scam to make desperate girls like me feel hopeful. But now, with this job opportunity dangling in front of me like a carrot I couldn't quite reach, her words didn't seem so crazy anymore.

"You're saying I should just... find someone to mate with?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

"Yes!" Kyra's face lit up like I'd finally gotten the right answer. "Look, I know it's not ideal, but this is your dream, Meera. The Royal Ashford Pack. How many people would kill for this chance?"

My mind immediately went to him. My mate. Somewhere out there, supposedly, was the person meant for me. The one the Moon Goddess had chosen. Wasn't I supposed to wait for that? Wasn't that the whole point of the mate bond?

"I can't just sleep with some random guy," I said, shaking my head. "I'm supposed to wait for my mate. What if—"

"Your mate?" Kyra's eyebrow shot up, and there was something pitying in her expression that made my chest ache. "Meera, honey, do you remember what happened with Damien?"

And there it was. The name I'd been trying not to think about for the past six months.

Damien Rivera. Star quarterback, werewolf royalty, the guy I'd had the most pathetic crush on since freshman year. I'd finally worked up the courage to tell him how I felt, my heart pounding so hard I thought it might burst out of my chest.

"You're sweet, Meera," he'd said, his perfect face twisted in something close to pity. "But I can't be with someone who doesn't have a wolf. It's just... not what I'm looking for."

The rejection had felt like being gutted. Like someone had reached into my chest and squeezed until I couldn't breathe.

"That was different," I whispered, but even I didn't believe it.

"Was it?" Kyra's voice was gentle but firm. "Look, I'm not trying to hurt you, but you need to be realistic. You're not getting any younger, and this job isn't going to wait around forever. You need a wolf, and there's a way to get one. So why not take it?"

I wanted to argue, to tell her she was wrong, that there had to be another way. But the truth was sitting heavy in my stomach like a stone. Maybe she was right. Maybe I was being stupid, clinging to some fairy tale idea of true love when the real world was passing me by.

"I'll think about it," I finally said, standing up from the couch.

Kyra walked me to the door, and as I stepped out into the hallway of our apartment building, she called after me, "There are plenty of hot guys at college, you know. It wouldn't be the worst thing in the world."

I rolled my eyes, turning back to give her a sarcastic smile. "Yeah, sure, I'll just—"

I didn't get to finish my sentence.

I crashed straight into something solid—someone solid. Strong hands grabbed my arms to steady me, and I stumbled back, my heart jumping into my throat.

"Whoa, careful there."

The voice was deep, smooth, and way too close. I looked up, and my brain short-circuited.

Standing in front of me was possibly the hottest guy I'd ever seen in my life. Dark hair that looked like he'd just run his fingers through it, sharp jawline, and these intense gray eyes that seemed to look right through me. He was tall—really tall—and the way his black t-shirt stretched across his chest made it very clear he spent a lot of time in the gym.

"I—sorry," I stammered, my cheeks burning. "I wasn't looking where I was going."

His lips curved into a small smile, and something about it made my stomach do a weird little flip. "No problem. Just watch where you're walking next time, yeah?"

He let go of my arms and stepped around me, heading down the hallway like he hadn't just made my entire body forget how to function.

I stood there frozen, my heart pounding for completely different reasons now.

"Oh my God," Kyra whispered from her doorway, her eyes wide. "Meera."

I turned to look at her, still dazed.

"That's Ryder Kane," she hissed, grabbing my arm and pulling me back toward her apartment. "He's only like the hottest guy in the entire college. He's in my psychology class, and every girl practically drools when he walks in."

"Okay?" I said, not sure where she was going with this.

Kyra's eyes gleamed with mischief, and I already didn't like where this was heading.

"You should sleep with him."

My jaw dropped. "What? Are you insane?"

"I'm serious!" She was grinning now, like this was the best idea she'd ever had. "Think about it—he's hot, he's here, and clearly the universe just literally threw him in your path. It's a sign!"

"It's not a sign, it's a coincidence," I said, but my voice sounded weak even to my own ears.

My mind was still replaying the feeling of his hands on my arms, the way his eyes had looked at me, the slight smile that had made my knees forget how to work properly.

"Just think about it," Kyra said, her voice dropping to something more serious. "You need this job, Meera. And if this is what it takes..."

She didn't finish the sentence, but she didn't need to.

I walked back to my apartment in a daze, my thoughts a chaotic mess of hockey dreams, fortune teller prophecies, and gray eyes that I couldn't seem to shake from my mind.