Ethan Edwards Hockey Novels & Stories

Last to step out was Richard Rashford. He looked impossibly handsome, his presence instantly commanding total silence throughout the packed auditorium. As he took his position at the center of the panel, his dark amber eyes swept over the ten finalists, lingering on me for a brief, intense second before settling on his tablet. My pulse hammered wildly against my throat. The room went dead quiet, every breath held in agonizing anticipation. It was time for the final results.

Damien’s voice cut off abruptly. I turned around slowly. Damien stood in the doorway, his hockey gear bag slung over one shoulder, his jaw tight as his gaze shifted from his father to me. The shock in his dark eyes lasted for only a fraction of a second before hardening into pure, unadulterated fury. Damien dropped his athletic bag to the floor with a heavy thud. He marched into the room, closing the distance between us until he was towering over me, invading my personal space.

"Skylar who's there at the door?" I heard Gran question from the kitchen. Good question Gran but how do I answer that question? I saw Ethan smiling at my state of trouble. "Why are you here?" I asked. "Ouch!" Ethan feigns hurt by placing his hand on his chest, just over his heart. I rolled my eyes at his overacting but also a smile was breaking its way out on my face. "I am here to give you something." "Give me what?"

That’s all he says. Edward keeps talking. “Ethan is here because certain people would love to hurt me. And they’d love to hurt you even more.” Ethan’s jaw tightens slightly. He doesn’t speak. “His job,” Edward continues, “is to stay close. Very close”. You don’t go anywhere without him.” I nod. Edward looks at Ethan. “You see any marks on her that weren’t there yesterday, you tell me.” Ethan’s eyes flick to my face. My arm. My posture. “Yes, sir,” he says. Edward claps his hands once. “Good. Get settled.”

Dean asked. "Really?... " She asked as she wrinkled her forehead and said, "Let me go and shower, I'll be right back." She said and went to her room immediately. ****** Eduardo entered his house and saw Ethan sitting comfortably on the sofa. Immediately his dark and cold nature surfaced, and then he asked, "What are doing here?" Ethan tilted his head and answered, "I came for a meeting." "Ethan, you have access to hotels in the city, why are you in my house." He paused and continued,

“Aria, you’re a credit to the Stone name. Your bonding ceremony is a moon cycle away. Why haven't the scents been registered at the Council yet?” The room went quiet. Every Alpha in the hall was listening. Ethan’s grip on my waist tightened so hard I knew I’d have bruises. “We’re handling it in a few days, High Alpha,” Ethan interjected, his heart rate spiking. “Which day exactly, Ethan?” Magnus pressed, his voice like grinding tectonic plates. “I’m heading to the Manchester gate for a hockey tournament tomorrow,” Ethan lied smoothly. “I’ll be back the night after. We’ll go to the Moon Council Hall the second I touch down.”

There were edits, clips, and fan accounts with headlines. ELENA & ETHAN: SECRET LOVE REIGNITED? FORMULA 1 STAR CHEERS ON FIGURE SKATING EX? I stared at my phone like it had personally insulted my ancestors, then got up, walked out of my room and fast. Ethan was nowhere in the apartment. Fuck! Well, at least the TV was on. I stopped and stared at the news. It was a live stream and Ethan was on screen. It looked like a press conference. What the hell is he doing?

"I've watched him from a distance. He's perfect. He's healthy. He's happy." "Happy without us." "For now." Mason pulls out his phone. Scrolls. Hands it to me. "This was taken last month." A photo. A little boy. Blonde hair. Blue eyes. Ethan's face on a smaller body. He's smiling. He's missing two front teeth. He's wearing a jersey. A Seattle Blizzards jersey. "He knows about Ethan," Mason says quietly. "The Reynolds are fans. They watch the games. Noah knows his father is a hockey player."

I said quietly. “Postpone?” Mom looked horrified. “Honey, all those people are already at the venue. The flowers, the catering, the musicians…everything’s ready.” “But I don’t have a proper dress—” Heavy footsteps echoed in the hallway, interrupting my protest. Everyone turned toward the door as a familiar figure filled the doorway. Ethan stood there in his perfectly tailored black tuxedo, looking like he stepped off the cover of a magazine. His dark eyes took in the scene…the destroyed dress, Emma’s tear-streaked face, Mom hovering protectively, the general chaos of my bedroom.

Ethan holds the phone tightly, his knuckles turning white. His eyes remain frozen like glacial ice. "I'm here, Collins. I just ran into a few old hockey colleagues I haven't seen in years. I was in a good mood, so I had a few extra drinks."