All Chapters of FATED TO THE HOCKEY STARS: Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

ANNAIt was utterly magical.My heart fluttered like a swarm of delicate butterflies as I twirled through the exquisite suite Ryder had reserved for our special night. The room glowed with the soft, golden light of a sparkling chandelier that cast prismatic reflections across the walls. Plush velvet chairs invited me to sink into their embrace, and a grand bed, draped in silky blue sheets, promised a dreamlike escape. The air carried a faint scent of lavender, adding to the enchantment. The annual Intercollegiate Hockey Championship, hosted by my school, Willow-Hills High, had been a triumph from the moment it began. For the first time in our pack’s history, we’d clawed our way into the finals, a feat that filled me with pride. My boyfriend, Ryder Willson—son of the Pack’s Alpha and the fearless captain of our hockey team—had thrown a house party to celebrate our success, inviting elites from every school that had battled on the ice. The thought of it all made my chest swell with

ANNA“What the hell?”The words slipped out before I could catch them, my gaze darting from Liam to Tyler, then to Kyle, and finally settling on Henry. Their faces were a mosaic of determination and mischief, their eyes gleaming with an intensity that told me they weren’t joking. The Winterveil quadruplets—those infamous heartthrobs from the rival pack—were dead serious about this insane proposal. But no way in the world was I about to entangle myself with them, fake or otherwise. My heart still ached from Ryder’s betrayal, and the last thing I needed was to dive into another whirlwind of drama.“I’m not interested,” I muttered, turning on my heel toward the door, my bare feet sinking into the plush carpet. The thought of escaping this surreal hotel room was my only lifeline.“You haven’t heard the catch yet,” Henry called out, his voice a warm undertone that halted me mid-step. His brow furrowed, a hint of curiosity flickering in his hazel eyes.“And I don’t want to hear it!” I s

Anna’s POVThe moment I stepped fully into the stadium, it felt like the world tilted.Noise crashed over me—cheers, laughter, the thud of skates against ice—but beneath it all was something sharper. A shift. A ripple. Like I’d dropped a stone into still water and everyone felt the waves.Heads turned.Not one or two. Dozens. Conversations stuttered. Whispers followed in my wake like shadows.“Is that—?”“No way…”“Anna Moon?”My name floated through the air, disbelief clinging to every syllable. I kept my chin lifted even as my heart slammed violently against my ribs. Every instinct screamed at me to shrink, to pull my coat tighter, to apologize for existing.But I didn’t.I walked forward.The stadium lights gleamed off the ice, bright enough to hurt my eyes. Students packed the stands, dressed in Willow-Hills colors, faces flushed with excitement. This place had always intimidated me—too loud, too full of people who never looked twice at me unless it was to laugh.Tonight, they wer

Anna’s POVThe kiss ended, but the fracture it caused didn’t close.If anything, it widened.The whistle shrieked through the stadium, sharp and unforgiving, snapping the moment apart like brittle ice under pressure. The crowd surged back into motion, voices rising, skates carving hard lines across the rink as the game resumed.And Ryder missed the pass.It wasn’t dramatic. No spectacular wipeout. No obvious blunder that would make the commentators gasp. It was the kind of mistake that only someone who’d watched Ryder Willson play for years would recognize as wrong.The puck slid toward him.He should’ve had it.Instead, it skimmed past the blade of his stick, ricocheting uselessly off the boards as a Winterveil player snatched control.A low murmur rippled through the crowd.I sucked in a breath without meaning to.Ryder froze for half a second too long, his shoulders stiffening like his body hadn’t caught up to the moment yet. Then he lunged forward, skating hard, jaw clenched benea

Anna’s POVThe whistle blows.Play resumes.The ice comes alive again — skates carving sharp lines, sticks clashing, the crowd roaring as if nothing monumental just happened a few seconds ago. But everything has changed. I can feel it in the air, thick and charged, like the stadium itself is holding its breath.Ryder takes his position at center ice.I watch him without meaning to.He’s tense, shoulders locked, jaw clenched so tight it looks painful. His grip on his stick is wrong — too rigid, too angry. This isn’t the Ryder who used to dominate the rink with effortless confidence. This Ryder looks like he’s fighting something inside his own head.The puck drops.He misses the pass.It’s small — blink-and-you-miss-it small — but it happens. The puck slides cleanly past his stick, bouncing uselessly toward the boards where a Winterveil player snatches it up without hesitation.A ripple of confusion moves through the crowd.My breath stutters.Ryder reacts a second too late, twisting sh