บททั้งหมดของ A NERD FOR THE HOCKEY ALPHA: บทที่ 71 - บทที่ 80

RonanThe moment I shut the door of my room, the mask falls.All through that damn meeting, with Sasha’s punishment and eyes on me, I held it in. The weight in my chest, the twisting pressure, the fire that does not burn on the outside but claws inside me — I forced it down. Now there is no one watching. Just me and Darko.The pain slams into me before I even cross the floor. My knees nearly buckle. I grab the edge of the dresser, knuckles white, jaw locked so I do not make a sound. Alphas do not whimper. Right now I am not an Alpha. I am a man with his insides tearing because my wolf is weakening again.“Fuck,” I grind through clenched teeth. My chest feels like it is caving in. Every inhale is a battle. Every exhale is too shallow to matter.I press my palm to my sternum because the motion feels like something. It does not help. The pressure only grows. A sharp, stabbing ache shoots into my left shoulder and down my arm. My body jerks with the force of it.Darko. I can’t feel him at

RonanThe night is on fire with screams. Steel clashes, bones crack, wolves snarl loud enough to shake the ground under my boots. I grip the knife in one hand, the gun in the other, sweat sliding into my eyes as I move through the chaos. Casen is right beside me, shifting fast into his wolf, his massive form tearing into the first rogue that lunges our way. Blood sprays, hot and metallic, covering the dirt. The air reeks of it.I can’t shift. I can’t even feel Darko anymore. His silence is like a hole inside me, hollow and terrifying. My chest aches with it, but there’s no time to think. No time to wish. All I have are these weapons and my stubborn need not to drop dead before this night is over.“Left!” Casen’s voice blasts through the mindlink, sharp.I spin, pulling the trigger before the rogue even lands. The gun kicks hard in my hand. The shot rips through his head, and he drops like a stone, his body twitching as blood spills fast. My ears ring from the blast, but I don’t care.

RonanThe fire snaps in the hearth, the only sound besides the pounding in my chest. My body feels like it’s been smashed through stone walls, my bandages sticky with blood. I sink back in the chair Casen shoved me into earlier, every breath rough and shallow. The healers did what they could, but they didn’t notice the real problem. They never do.Casen leans against the window frame, arms crossed, face shadowed. He’s been staring outside for a while, jaw tight. His silence grates on me almost as much as the pain tearing through my ribs. The smell of smoke and dried blood still clings to the air—it feels like the battlefield followed me into my own room.Finally, he says, “That wasn’t Blackridge.”I drag in a breath, slow, sharp. “No. They wouldn’t risk something like this. Not with the truce still hanging by a thread.”He nods once, still watching the dark outside. “Then who the hell sends three packs together with rogues? They knew the grounds too well. That wasn’t random.”“I know,

RonanI drag myself into the council chamber, shoulders squared even though every step feels heavier than the last. Since Darko’s death, it’s like part of my chest refuses to fill with air. My lungs fight me, burning, my body weaker, slower. But I don’t let it show. At least, I try not to. I still walk with my head high, the weight of Alpha on my back, even if my insides are tearing themselves apart.The chamber smells of incense and old wood. Torches burn against the stone walls, their crackle mixing with the shuffle of boots as elders take their seats. Their eyes follow me, sharp and prying, some pitying, others calculating. I know what they see—an Alpha who no longer feels untouchable.I reach the center and stop, hands clasped behind me, hiding the tremor in my fingers. My chest tightens again. I breathe slow, steady. No weakness. Not here.Caius is already waiting, lounging like this is a game. His dark eyes glint with something close to triumph. He rises slowly, dragging every e

CallaI suddenly feel a sharp twitch in my chest. My hand shoots up like it’s trying to shove something back into my ribcage, but nothing’s there. Just me, and this… tight, clawing ache that feels too big for my body. I freeze, heart hammering like it’s trying to break free.“What the hell…” I mutter, pressing my palm to my chest. My fingers tremble. My vision blurs, or maybe it’s just my head pounding in rhythm with my heartbeat. Everything feels off, something is wrong.I try to breathe, slow, careful, like my lungs and heart might actually listen if I beg them nicely. Nope. They do their own thing. Panicking. Racing. Throbbing. Then the headache hits like a fist to the temple. Sharp, stabbing, making me wince, stumble against the wall. My legs feel like rubber noodles, bending under me without permission. I barely catch the edge of the counter in my kitchen. The apartment smells… normal, but it doesn’t register. Everything smells like antiseptic in my brain, like I’m already some