My Hockey Alpha by Eve Above Story PDF

Enzo

I strode into the rink, the familiar chill of the ice sending a shiver down my spine in an all-too-familiar way. Normally, it was comforting. But today, after my argument with Nina, it felt anything but comforting.

I wished that she would just trust me fully, like she said she did. But I could tell that she still was unsure about Mila, even though it never even crossed my mind to give that woman the time of day.

But as I approached the ice, where the team was already waiting, I shook off those feelings. I was here to train a hockey team, not dwell on petty arguments with my wife.

Practice kicked off, and I ran the guys through the paces-drills, formation exercises, the works. Maybe it was the tension I carried, but I found myself pushing them harder than usual.

*Knees bent!" I bellowed. "Christian, what are you doing? I just told you to flick with your wrists, not your shoulders! The stick is an extension of your arm!*

However, it wasn't long before I noticed that my agitation was nothing compared to the animosity brewing between a couple of players. I saw them trading insults under their breath, shoulders bunched and faces red.

Then it happened. A missed pass, a shove, and suddenly they were on each other like wild animals, sticks thrown aside.

Eddie, growled. "I

was your fault!" Jonas hissed.

I had enough.

*STOP!"

magnified by the Alpha authority that tingled in the back of my voice. The effect was immediate-total silence enveloped

skates. Gripping their jerseys, I pulled them apart with barely

turned to address the rest of the team, who stared back at me with

their full attention. "I get that emotions run high, especially in a game as intense as hockey. But what just happened here? This isn't a brawl; it's a sport. A team sport. And if you can't act like

nodding in silent agreement. "You're here to support each other, to lift each other up. Not tear each other down. I've seen teams disintegrate from within because they lost sight of that, and let me tell you,

darted towards the exit, where the life beyond this rink waited for me-Nina, our unborn child, our life together-and how a simple argument could shake even the strongest of foundations.

for that. It's called communication, not fistfights on the ice. If you can't settle your differences off the rink, what makes you think throwing a

sheepishly at one another, and I could see

I continued, my tone taking on a more samber note. "From now on, if I see any of you