All Chapters of A NERD FOR THE HOCKEY ALPHA: Chapter 41 - Chapter 50

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

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

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

Calla“Mate!”The growl rips through my head. It’s not my voice, not even my own thoughts—it’s something else, someone else, calling out to me. The sound shudders down my spine, raw and possessive, and I feel it all the way to the pit of my stomach. My body is burning, searing from the inside out, and I can’t endure the way it feels. It’s too much, a fever that has no cure.My eyes are shut, locked in a thick, endless darkness. But the scent cuts through it, dragging me up as if I’ve been drowning. Seductive. Heavy. Alluring in a way that makes me ache. I want it. No, I crave it.My hand moves on instinct, sliding to my neck, trailing lower, brushing across my chest. I cup my breast, fingers squeezing, and a tremor runs through me. The touch makes me shiver, but it isn’t enough. I don’t want my own hand. I want something stronger. Someone else.Ronan’s face slams into my head so vividly I almost gasp. That scent—it’s his. I’ve breathed it in so many times, memorized it, but right now

CallaImmediately I wake up, the first thing that hits me is the pounding in my head. It’s sharp, steady, like someone drumming against my skull. For a second, I wonder if I blacked out at some point last night, if maybe Blaire slipped something into my drink as a joke. But then my memory reminds me—no. I didn’t drink. Not a single drop.Which makes the ache in my body that much harder to ignore. My muscles are sore, my skin feels stretched too tight, and then it all rushes back—every second of last night. His hands. His mouth. The way I gave in like I had no self-control. The way I didn’t stop him.My stomach flips.I turn my head, careful, like if I move too fast the whole room will tilt. My eyes land on him—Ronan. He’s sprawled out, face half-buried in the pillow, dark hair a mess. And he looks so damn peaceful it makes me want to throw something at him. How dare he sleep like that? Like he didn’t just ruin me. Like he didn’t make me ruin myself.A gasp slips out before I can swall