All Chapters of Faking It With Hockey Alpha: Chapter 51 - Chapter 60

Magnus.“Do you think there are tears?” I asked.I leaned back against the plush leather seat of the sedan and tapped my fingers against the cool window glass. I stared through the rain. “I bet there are tears. Family reunions are always so terribly messy.”“Probably, boss,” Silas muttered from the driver’s seat. He didn’t bother looking up from his phone, his thumbs tapping away at a quick text.I smiled. I kept my eyes fixed on the brightly lit window of the apartment across the street. The rain dragged slow, blurry paths down the windshield, but my view of the third floor was perfectly clear.Arthur Hayes. Finally.I let out a slow, satisfied breath. A genuine wave of relief washed over my chest, settling deep in my bones. Some men hated waiting. Some men grew anxious and chewed their fingernails when their plans took time. Not me. I had waited far longer than one pathetic hockey season for this little reunion to happen.A man in hiding was a ghost. You couldn’t grab a ghost. You c

Aurora.The noise inside the narrow room was deafening, a brutal bone-shattering roar that tore through the air and left my ears ringing with a sharp, high-pitched whine.A scream escaped out of my throat before my brain could even register who had been hit, the sound raw and desperate as my whole body went utterly cold.I scrambled forward on my hands and knees through the thin grey haze of gunsmoke, my boots slipping against the polished floorboards while my heart pounded like a freight train in my skull.I knew Roland’s life wasn't all sunshine and roses. I knew I was in for a lot of drama when I agreed to play the role of his girlfriend weeks ago but I never thought I'd be shot at.I expected to find my father sprawling lifeless near the window, his chest torn open and his eyes staring blankly at the stained ceiling tiles.Instead, it was Roland.He lay half-twisted on his side near the overturned coffee table, his face deathly pale beneath the harsh fluorescent lights as dark blo

Aurora.I stared at the pale blue screen of the flip phone. My eyes refused to believe what they saw. There was no logical reason in the world why my supposedly dead father should have Eleanor Blackwood’s name saved in his personal contacts.Eleanor was Roland’s mother... the sharp, polished Luna of the Blackwood pack who spent her weekends organizing high-society charity galas and wearing silk scarves that cost more than my monthly apartment rent.She belonged to a completely different world than a fugitive sports reporter hiding in a rotting warehouse. Yet there her name was, flashing repeatedly against the small screen like an alarm bell ringing in the quiet hallway.They were in contact. They had been in contact for a very long time.Arthur hesitated before answering. His thumb hovered over the green button while a flicker of heavy guilt crossed his weathered face.I had spent my entire childhood learning to read every subtle shift in his expressions. And that single look told me

Roland.I forced every ounce of remaining strength into my legs, driving my boots into the concrete floor to stand fully upright between Aurora and the open elevator doors.Blood loss made my vision swim with dark spots and my wounded side burned like liquid fire, but I locked my knees to keep from swaying. Whatever Magnus came here to accomplish tonight, he was not going to touch her while I still had breath in my lungs.Magnus didn’t rush us, nor did he reach for the holster hidden beneath his coat. He stepped out of the metal car with maddening composure, leaning lightly on his silver-topped cane as his dark eyes swept over the three of us.A faint, terrible smile touched his lips. He looked like a man who had planned this exact reunion down to the second.“Look at you, Alpha,” Magnus said, his tone smooth and entirely unbothered by the metallic smell of blood filling the corridor. “Watching you bleed out on your feet just to shield a woman you spent all season claiming was just bu

Aurora.The temperature in the narrow hallway dropped ten degrees the second Adrian Blackwood stepped over the ruined steel frame of the stairwell door. It wasn't a sudden explosion of blood or teeth, but the sheer, crushing weight of his presence altered the room completely.A dozen massive wolves fanned out behind him in synchronized precision, their low growls vibrating through the concrete floor like an engine idling in the dark. For the very first time since this nightmare began, Magnus’s smooth, unbothered calm visibly fractured, his eyes widening as his calculated trap collapsed around his polished shoes.I tensed every muscle in my body, bracing for impact as I fully expected the corridor to turn into a war zone within seconds. My pulse hammered against my ribs, yet I forced myself to remain still. One wrong movement could trigger the violence hanging over us like a loaded weapon.Adrian didn't launch himself forward, nor did he order his pack to attack. He simply stood in the