All Chapters of Oops! The Hockey Captain Is My Alpha : Chapter 21 - Chapter 30

Asher’s Pov Rowan stared at her phone screen like it was about to explode. Her hands shook so hard she could barely hold the device, and her breath came out in ragged, uneven gasps. "Rowan, talk to me," I said, stepping closer and grabbing her trembling shoulders gently. "What did the message say? Who intercepted it?" She didn't answer right away. She hit call, holding the phone up to her ear with a desperate panic in her eyes while she waited for her aunt to pick up. I watched her face twist in agony as she spoke in a frantic, rushed whisper, confirming the absolute worst. The package containing her crucial medication never made it to Silvercrest. Because of some messed-up processing error, the pharmacy couldn't send another batch for several days. When she hung up, she looked completely defeated. She tried to slap on a brave face, looking away and mumbling that it was no big deal, that she could handle it. "Stop," I interrupted, stepping right into her line of sight so she had

Rowan’s Pov Marcus was standing right in front of me, hands waiting like he owned the room. My skin crawled. Between the loud music, the crushing wall of Alphas, and the panic clawing at my throat about my fading suppressants, dancing with a cocky stranger was the last thing I wanted to do. "I'm good, thanks," I said, keeping my voice flat and stepping back. Marcus didn't take the hint. He grinned wider, stepping closer. "Come on, rookie. Just one dance….." "Go ahead." My head snapped around. Asher was standing right beside me, hands shoved casually into his pockets, his face totally calm. "Asher?" I blinked, totally thrown off. Go ahead? After how tightly he had guarded me all night, letting other guys stare from afar, he was telling me to go dance with Marcus? Marcus didn't wait for me to process it. He grabbed my elbow gently, too gently to fight off without making a scene, and steered me out toward the makeshift dance floor in the middle of the crowded lounge. The slow so

Rowan’s Pov Cold air burned my lungs, and my legs felt like lead, yet I didn't stop pushing my skates against the ice. Round and round the isolated training rink on the edge of campus, I tore through the corners. Sweat dripped down the back of my neck despite the freezing temperature. I thought if I pushed my body hard enough, if I burned every single drop of restless energy until my muscles screamed, I could trap my rogue biology back inside its cage. Instead, the opposite happened. The heat inside my veins flared hotter, rich and sweet, cutting right through the crisp arena air. My wolf woke up purring, restless and demanding, ignoring the burning ache in my thighs. Clack-buzz. My phone vibrated loudly from the wooden bench near the boards. I ignored it on the first lap, carving a tight turn around the faceoff circle. On the second lap, it buzzed again, long and stubborn. I skated over, breathing hard, and flipped the screen. Aunt Ivy. I swiped to answer, tossing my stick ag

Rowan’s Pov Waking up safe in Suite 301 felt like stepping into a dream I didn't want to wake from, especially after Asher spent the whole night guarding my door like a carved stone statue. Over the next few days, my world flipped upside down—in a good way. The We stopped pretending we were just grumpy roommates sharing a locker line. Our secret turned into a dangerous, electric game of stolen moments. A quick kiss pressed against the cold brick in a deserted third-floor hallway between classes, our breath mingling in the drafty air. A low murmur across the training table during team lunch where his shoulder pressed flush against mine under the bench. A heavy, calloused thumb casually brushing the inside of my wrist while Coach drew out penalty-kill diagrams on the board. Every touch sent a hot jolt straight to my toes, making my stomach flip with nervous, giddy excitement. Of course, hockey boys are blind to nothing. Mason caught Asher staring down at his phone mid-stretch in

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.