Todos os capítulos de A Rival for the Hockey Alpha : Capítulo 271 - Capítulo 280

StilesI walked down the hallway toward my suite, and for the first time in two years, the air didn't feel like lead in my lungs. I felt light. I felt alive. My skin still burned where Grey had touched me, and the scent of him was settled into my clothes like a permanent marker. I was smiling—actually smiling—until I reached my door and pushed it open.And the smile died instantly.Hasima was standing by the window. She wasn't dressed for the day yet; she was wrapped in a silk robe, her dark hair falling over her shoulders.“Hasima,” I called.She turned around to look at me, her eyes weren't bright. They were tired and suspicious."Stiles," she said, her voice flat. "Where have you been?"I forced my face into a neutral mask. "I was out. I couldn't sleep, so I went for a walk. The rain was heavy, and I ended up staying in one of the guest lounges to wait it out."Hasima didn't move. She just stared at me. "A walk? I have been standing in this room all night, Stiles. I have been waiti

Stiles.The bass from the bachelor party was a heavy, thumping heartbeat against the walls of the storage room. It made the air vibrate, but the heat between us was louder. Grey was still on his knees, looking up at me with those narrowed, silver-grey eyes. He didn't look shy. He looked like he was starving.He leaned forward, his warm breath hitting my sensitive skin before his lips ever did. I gripped the edge of a nearby shelf, my knuckles turning white. When he finally took the head of my cock into his mouth, I let out a jagged sound that was swallowed by the loud music outside.He didn't rush. He moved his mouth slowly, swirling his tongue around the tip with a deliberate, wet pressure. I watched him, my eyes half-closed, watching the way his throat moved every time he took me deeper. He was looking right at me the whole time, his gaze intense and unblinking."Grey... fuck... stop... no, don't stop," I groaned, my head hitting the wall behind me.He used his hands to grip my thig

GreyThe wedding was beautiful. Riven and Sky were finally married. The palace was full of music, flowers, and happy people. It was the middle of the reception, and the party was loud. Everyone was dancing and drinking. But someone was missing.Riven leaned over to me. "Grey, have you seen Stiles? He was supposed to give the next toast. Can you go find him? He’s probably in the west wing taking a break."I nodded and walked away from the noise. My heart felt heavy. This was my last night here. Tomorrow, I would be in a car heading back to the East. I walked down the quiet hallways until I reached the door of the private lounge. I didn't even have to knock. I knew he was there.I pushed the door open. Stiles was standing by the window. He had his jacket off, and his white shirt was unbuttoned at the top. He looked tired. When he saw me, his eyes softened, but he didn't move."Riven is looking for you," I said softly, staying by the door. "It’s time for the toast. People are waiting, St

Stiles I watched Grey walk out of the room, his shadow disappearing into the long hallway. My heart felt like it was being pulled out of my chest, but I couldn't move. The silence in the room was heavy. Outside, the music from Riven and Sky’s wedding was still playing, but for me, the celebration was dead. I had to find her. I had to face the mess I made. I walked toward Hasima’s quarters. Every step felt like I was walking toward my own execution. When I reached her door, I didn't knock. I just walked in. She was sitting on the edge of the bed, her face buried in her hands. She had torn off her jewellery, and it lay scattered on the floor like broken glass. "Leave," she whispered. She didn't even look up. "Get out, Stiles." "We have to talk, Hasima," I said, staying near the door, gathering courage because it was either now, or never. "You can’t avoid me forever. We are tied together by a bond, whether we like it or not." She looked up then, and her eyes were red and sw

(Authors POV) The air in the small stone hall was freezing, but nobody moved to close the windows. This was a ceremony of shadows. There were no flowers, no music, and no happy guests. Only Riven, Sky, Stiles’s father, and the elders stood in a circle. The atmosphere was heavy, like a storm was about to break. In the center stood Stiles and Hasima, facing each other for the last time as mates. Hasima’s hands were shaking. Her face was pale, and her eyes were tired. Stiles looked worse. He looked like a man standing in front of a firing squad. He was ready, but his body was trembling with fear of the unknown. He knew this would hurt, but he didn't know if he would survive the shock. "Do you, Hasima of the Western Plains, willingly sever the thread that binds you to Stiles of the Silverfangs?" the Elder asked, his voice echoing like a death knell. Hasima looked at Stiles. He gave her a small, encouraging nod. It was the most selfless thing he had ever done for her. He was giving