Hockey Player Booktok Novels & Stories

“I know this team. It’s from the human realm.” I turned it around and froze. The name printed there was one I recognized too. A famous hockey player. A very famous one. I stared at it, then slowly looked toward Ella. “Dax plays hockey?” Ella looked just as surprised as I felt. “Apparently.” Of course he did. Because why wouldn’t the terrifying Alpha King of Shadowfen also have a mysterious human-realm hockey life? That man was a walking locked folder with abs but despite everything, I smiled. A real one this time

I let out a heavy sigh, shifting my weight to stand up, but Jessica reached out and pressed both hands against my chest, pushing me firmly back into the sofa. “You look completely dead on your feet, Lu,” she murmured, her voice softening. “How about I grab you something cold to drink before you collapse?” At the mere mention of a drink, my throat burned with a dry ache, reminding me just how little water or food I’d had since driving across the state. “Make it something cold,” I muttered, leaning my head back against the cushion. “Sure thing,” Jessica replied, flashing me a slow, deliberate wink as she stood up. She returned a moment later holding an icy bottle of beer. “Here you go, papi. Y

I took a deep breath and gripped the edges of the podium to steady my shaking hands. "My name is Derek Stone," I started, my voice coming out stronger than I expected. "Most of you know me as a hockey player. As someone who transferred here and immediately started winning games. As the guy who beat Ryan Richmond and took his spot as team captain." I paused, letting that sink in. "But that is not who I really am. That is just the mask I wore because I thought that was what everyone wanted to see. The confident athlete who never struggled. The guy who had it all together. The person who made everything look easy."

“It was fast. You sent it my way too fast.” A knot formed on her forehead. “No, it wasn’t fast. You were just too early.” “I was prepared for the puck.” “No, you were guessing.” I let out a scoff. “I don’t guess. I strategize. No one who just guesses in hockey will never make it far.” She blinked at me, raising a brow. “And you’ve made it far?” I drew in a breath to speak, but I couldn’t find the right words. She had me.

My entire body stilled. The Khaelon Dravik. Star hockey player. Heir to the Dravik fortune. Captain of the undefeated Hockey Team. The face on every student poster, the name on every varsity jersey. The one everyone talked about like he was myth wrapped in flesh. Unreachable and my ultimate crush. My first love even if he never knew it. I used to watch his games through a cracked laptop screen, memorizing the sharp angles of his jaw under his helmet, the vicious grace of how he skated across the rink like a storm no one could stop. He didn’t just play, he dominated. And now, here he was.

RONAN DRAKOVIC RHODES. Ain’t nothing like a man itching from addiction. In all my years of life, I had two addictions. Both of which I’d cross the red line just to get them. Hockey was one of them. Nothing like having the ice beneath you, solid and steady, while you moved your weight around the net like a god. Nothing like being the one who controlled the game because the goalie was always undermined. My job was to man the net but the truth? I protected my team. I predicted which player was slacking on the ice faster than the coach and the fans ever did.

"Get back out there, keep your left elbow locked, and finish this game." ​"On your terms, Sasha," Rhys promised, his fingers squeezing mine with a tight, possessive pressure before he stood up. ​He pulled his helmet down, stepped back over the boards, and skated onto the ice for the final twenty minutes of the game. He was the captain of the Seattle Kraken, and he was ready to claim his victory.

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.

News headlines. "Love on Ice: The Volkov-Montgomery Story Leaks Early." "Chapter 10: 'The Night He Begged.'" "Fans Go Wild Over Explicit Details." Damian sat up so fast his head spun. He opened the first link. A leaked P*F. The book's cover—two hockey players silhouetted against the ice. He scrolled to Chapter 10. "The Night He Begged." The chapter started with the abandoned rink. The cold. The blood. Sebastian's voice, transcribed from their interview: "I told him to beg me to hurt him. His voice cracked when he said please."

Mia said. We went inside and watched the hockey game. I could see right away that these two teams were not up to the level of the Arctic Avalanches. But Arthur didn’t have to tell me which player was the one he wanted to talk to. One player on the French team stood out. Number 33 had the grace and fancy footwork of an Olympian ice skater, the speed of Usain Bolt, and wide shoulders like an American football player.