My Hockey Alpha
My father dropped to one knee in front of the Alpha King, as did I.
“Rise,” the Alpha King said nonchalantly. My father and I stood. The Alpha King was silent for a moment, then stood and slowly walked down the steps to meet us while his daughter stood motionless beside the throne. The King was tall and thin, with salt-and-pepper hair and a well-groomed beard. He wore a pristine suit and tie.
“So,” the Alpha King said. “You’re my daughter’s fated mate.” He looked me up and down, taking in my appearance.