Booktok Hockey Books Novels & Stories

I really couldn't afford to mess up this year. A lot was at stake. There had been quarrels between us and our border pack, Bloodstone, over the mining lines. The Council of Elders had just set a strict new rule: the winner of this year's hockey championship would get the legal right to control the disputed border for a whole decade. That was serious.

There was a seriousness in Nathan's voice, unreadable, just not very pleased. How could that be. This was the Master he cared about most. Tiffany blushed and put on a shy, bashful look. "Mm... I was afraid you'd think a girl like me doesn't understand hockey, so I never dared admit it." That notebook was packed with all my tactical workups, exactly the same as the tactics IceTyrant had given Nathan. She must have snuck a look inside while I was asleep. I bit my lip bloody, forcing down the urge to rush out and expose her.

Right at the edge of the crowd, I walked straight into a wall — except the wall was warm and it had arms, and when I stumbled backward and looked up, I realized it wasn't a wall at all. It was Knox Rivers. He reached out and caught my arm before I could fall, and for a moment we just looked at each other. Knox Rivers. The captain of the hockey team. The most talked-about guy on the entire campus. The one person every girl seemed to have an opinion about, whether they had spoken to him or not. Up close, he was taller than I remembered, and there was something about his eyes — gray and steady and completely sober — that made him feel different from everyone else at this party.

He started to smile, poking my knee with his finger. “Are you saying hockey isn’t wholesome?” Aria noticed the gesture and her eyes met mine as she smirked. I felt my cheeks begin to heat up and I shifted away from Timothy’s touch with a grunt. “Do you know how many people lose their teeth in hockey? Or wind up with broken ribs?” I asked. “Something else.” Timothy hummed in thought and leaned back against the couch. After pondering for a few moments, his eyes lit up. “I like walking my dog, Duke,” he said.

I was relieved to hear this. The hockey game that night was a landslide victory on our part. Although the crowd on our side of the arena was much smaller than it normally was and our cheerleaders had completely boycotted the game, our team played hard. Enzo used a lot of different tactics to outsmart the other hockey captain, and I began to wonder as I watched them if the other captain was even nearly as skilled in hockey as Enzo, or if he was only placed in that role because he was a Crescent werewolf. It made me think, as our team scored goal after goal, that there really was nothing special about werewolves in particular that could help them win this tournament over skilled hockey players

I told him things I hadn’t even told anyone and the way my body felt off, alive with a buzzing energy I couldn’t explain. He listened, nodding, his gaze soft. Then he said, almost shyly, “Can I tell you something? Something I’ve never told anyone?” I looked at him, curious. “What?” “I used to hate hockey,” he admitted with a laugh. “Crazy, right? Everyone thinks I was born with skates on, but when I was a kid, I wanted to quit. My dad wouldn’t let me. Said I’d thank him someday. I guess I did. But… I’ve never told anyone that. Not even the guys.”

Do you want to know why I think so? You see, once upon a time there was a girl that hated hockey and everything related to it, especially hockey players. She had a good reason as well. But suddenly Nathaniel Madox waltzed into her life and turned it all upside down. He made her realize that not everyone is out there to hurt her. He helped her see that as much as there were asshole hockey players, there was the same amount of kind and gold-hearted hockey players who were willing to top everything for those they loved and cared about.

What was supposed to be an interview to gather insight and perspective on the game, almost became a battle between me and the damn captain. The problem was that the beta asshole told me that I was just a kid who took advantage of my parents' privilege and that I was a total loser on the rink. Oh one more thing, he said I was lucky to be strong because I am a werewolf. Son of a bitch! I trained very hard since childhood, going through all the stages to become the ice hockey player I am now. I even chose this sport over the family business. And I always scored the highest during my time with the national team.

But Hockey is a beast of a game, and I f*ckin love it. But after my marriage, I stopped watching and even checking live scores. I stopped everything that would remind me of Cicero, deleting him everywhere around me. … We were already seated in a row right across the Islanders' bench before the game started. Papa is seated comfortably with Lugo, Cicero's best friend. They are having a deep conversation that they didn't want me to listen to. So, I focus my attention on the ice, biting down on my lips. Papa is wearing a jersey with Cicero's name and even offered me one before we left the house, but I turned him down.

Chapter 182: Third Person POV The man's fingers traced the glossy magazine cover slowly, deliberately, his touch almost reverent as it moved across the photograph displayed there, a hockey player mid-action, captured in perfect athletic form, his face focused and intense beneath the headline "Zane Mercer: The NHL's Most Elusive Star." The downtown Seattle penthouse where he sat was dark except for the ambient city lights filtering through the floor-to-ceiling windows, casting shadows that made the expensive modern furniture look almost sinister in the dim glow.