My Hockey Alpha



Countless practices, games, and scrimmages had been spent running around like this, checking on injuries, and so I was prepared. But not for this. I slipped as I ran up to him, falling to my knees by his side.

"Enzo! Are you okay?"

He was pushing himself up when I reached him, his hand coming away from his face smeared with blood. Matt skated over, concern etched on his face. "Dude, are you alright?"

"I'm fine," Enzo snapped, getting up.

But the look he gave me was one of frustration. "Nina, what are you doing here?"

"I was worried about you," I said, standing and reaching for his face to examine the cut.

He recoiled, pushing my hand away. "I said I'm fine!*

His shove was stronger than he intended, I could tell, but it sent me staggering back. I tripped over my own feet and landed back on the ice, pain shooting through my arm as it took the brunt of my fall. I looked up at Enzo, my eyes meeting his, and I saw a flicker of something-remorse, maybe, or regret.

But it was quickly veiled by that same wall of frustration.

"Nina, I didn't mean-"

"Save it," I cut him off, holding my arm where a red mark was beginning to form from where he had shoved me." Just save it, Enzo."

I pushed myself to my feet, the tears that I'd been holding back now spilling over. "You don't get to push me away, both metaphorically and physically."

"I didn't mean to="

I didn't wait to hear the rest. I turned my back on him, on Matt, on this slice of Enzo's world that I had invaded, and Iran. My footsteps sounded heavy, each one echoing my growing sense of isolation.

As I made my way back out onto the quad, my arm throbbed in sync with the pain in my heart. How could the same hands that had once held me so tenderly be the source of my pain now? Luke was right: this wasn't like Enzo. Not at all.

I burst through the doors of the arena, out into the cool night. I ran, letting my feet carry me away from the ice, from the blood, from everything.

#Chapter 357: The Shadow Self

The cool air and the quiet campus had always been a comfort to me. But even the cool evening breeze couldn't lift the heaviness weighing down on me as I fled the hockey arena.

I wasn't even entirely sure why I was running, but I knew I had to. My feet carried me across the empty athletic fields, and it wasn't until I broke through the line of trees that I finally slowed to a walking pace.

Eventually, I came to a small stream that was located along one of the many walking trails that the campus boasted. It was flowing in full force thanks to the summer rain, and it offered a bit of solace.

I plopped down on a fallen log, my eyes stinging as I fought to hold back a new wave of tears. This was too much. Even with my werewolf healing, the red mark Enzo left on my arm remained as a vivid reminder. It was a painful imprint not only on my skin but also on my heart.

"What the hell was that? You think that was okay?" I muttered, urging my wolf to respond, to offer some kind of wisdom that I sorely needed right now.

"He didn't mean to hurt you, Nina. Sometimes Alphas snap."

"Snap? That's not an excuse," I shot back, surprised at the bitterness in my own voice. "That's not Enzo. He's never been like this-never. I don't buy that for one second."

My wolf fell silent, and right now, I was glad for it. I didn't need any justifications as to what had just happened. Enzo had shoved me, his pregnant wife, and that was all that mattered right now.

My fingers found the wet trail my tears had left on my cheeks and wiped them away. I stared at the stream in front of me, its water cascading over rocks, a natural course altered by obstacles but never stopping. What was the saying? That you never saw the same river twice?Please check at N/ôvel(D)rama.Org.

If only the solution to emotional pain was as simple as the physical: a little bit of accelerated healing, a dab of supernatural ointment, and I'd be good as new, like the new waters flowing over the rocks.

But deep down, I knew that the hurt I was feeling was a lot more complex than that.

I sighed as I looked out over the stream. I had become so wrapped up in my own fears, my own pain, that I had almost forgotten that Enzo was a person too.

A person with his own fears, his own past, his own PTSD from our war with the Crescents. We had both seen things, done things that we couldn't take back, that lingered like dark clouds over our lives. Things that we couldn't tell the world, things that had to be kept a secret from so many people around us.