FAKE DATING MY RUTHLESS HOCKEY ALPHA

CHLOE'S POV

“If you ruin this manicure, Sienna, I am going to cast a spell that turns all your designer shoes into knockoffs.”

I held my hand out, admiring the fresh coat of baby-pink polish drying under the UV lamp on my desk. My room in the eastern wing of Silverwood Academy was currently a chaotic mix of high-end fashion and spell books. Silk scarves hung over my chair, three different bottles of perfume cluttered my nightstand, and a giant, dusty tome on elemental magic sat open on my lap, completely ignored.

Sienna rolled her eyes, flopping back onto her bed with a bag of potato chips. “You’re the one who dragged me into your room to complain about class, Chloe. I’m just trying to survive being your roommate.”

“I’m not complaining, I’m stressing,” I corrected, carefully blowing on my left thumbnail. “There’s a difference. My father called this morning.”

Sienna stopped chewing. The lighthearted vibe in the room instantly shifted.

“What did Victor want?” she asked, her voice dropping a notch.

“The usual,” I muttered, staring down at my pristine nails. “Reminding me of my place in the world. He said if I fail my mid-term magic assessment this Friday, he’s cutting my allowance, pulling me out of Silverwood, and arranging a marriage with some ancient coven leader in the north.”

“He wouldn’t,” Sienna breathed, her jaw dropping slightly.

“He would,” I said smoothly, forcing my face into a practiced, unbothered smile. I picked up my favorite designer lip gloss and reapplied a fresh layer. “You know my dad. To Victor, I’m not a daughter. I’m an asset. Something he’s investing in until he can trade me for political power.”

I stood up, smoothing down my cropped silk top and tailored white pants. On the outside, I looked completely put together, the unapologetic, high-fashion diva witch who didn't give a damn about werewolf rules or academy drama. But under my ribs, my heart was doing anxious backflips.

The truth was embarrassing: I was terrible at practical magic. While Sienna could cast complex concealment charms with a flick of her wrist, my spells usually fizzled out or blew up in my face.

“Come on,” I said, tossing my lip gloss into my $500 leather handbag. “Let's go get an iced coffee before I lose my mind staring at this textbook.”

We stepped out into the bustling courtyard of Silverwood Academy. The campus was a stunning, ancient fortress of stone and glass, surrounded by dense pine forests. Half the students were witches, warlocks, and supernatural elites, while the other half were members of the Silverwood Pack, the dominant werewolf territory that owned the land.

As we walked toward the campus café, a sudden hush fell over the crowd near the main quad.

Students on the pathways scattered to the sides, clearing a wide path. Nobody laughed, nobody shouted, and even the arrogant upperclassmen fell completely silent.

“What’s going on?” I asked, squinting against the afternoon sun.

“Look,” Sienna whispered, grabbing my elbow and pulling me behind a stone pillar. “It’s him.”

Walking across the cobblestone court was a group of tall, broad-shouldered guys wearing black and silver varsity jackets, the Silverwood Academy hockey team.

Walking at the very front was Ethan Silver.

He was eighteen, but he carried himself with an quiet, terrifying authority that made the air feel twenty degrees colder. He didn't yell or puff his chest out like the other athletes. He just walked, disciplined, stoic, and completely silent. His dark hair was slightly messy, his jawline locked in a hard, unreadable line.

Everyone at school knew who Ethan was. He was captain of the hockey team, the undisputed Alpha of the Silverwood Pack, and a guy who ran his territory with absolute zero tolerance for dishonesty or mistakes. People whispered that if you crossed Ethan Silver, you didn't get a second chance. You just disappeared from the territory.

As he walked past our pillar, my eyes briefly caught his profile. He didn't even look at the crowd. He looked exhausted under that icy surface, like he was carrying the weight of the entire territory on his shoulders.

“God, he’s terrifying,” Sienna squeaked under her breath, squeezing my arm. “And ridiculously fine. Did you see his jawline?”

“He’s just an arrogant athlete with a bad mood,” I lied, crossing my arms and forcing a scoff. “Sports are stupid anyway.”

“He’s not just an athlete, Chloe! His pack literally owns this school,” Sienna hissed as Ethan and his team disappeared into the training facility. “Elder Vance and the pack elders watch his every move. My brother says Ethan works twenty hours a day balancing pack laws, school, and team captaincy.”

“Whatever,” I said, turning away. “His problems aren't my problems. I have my own disaster to worry about.”

By the time we got back to our dorm room an hour later, the sun was beginning to set, casting long, dark shadows across our floor. My anxiety had reached a boiling point. The magic assessment was in less than forty-eight hours, and reading the textbook was getting me nowhere.

I dumped my handbag onto my desk and locked the dorm door.

“Sienna,” I said, my voice turning dead serious. “We’re doing it.”

Sienna froze halfway through opening a fresh bag of chips. “Doing what?”

“The shortcut spell,” I said, reaching under my bed and pulling out a hidden black velvet box containing violet summoning candles. “We’re summoning a high-level knowledge spirit to help me pass this exam.”

Sienna’s face drained of color. “Chloe, no! Summoning high-level spirits in a dorm room is strictly illegal! If the faculty catches us, we’ll both be expelled!”

“I don’t have a choice!” I snapped, setting the four candles in a square on the rug. “If I fail, my father disowns me! Do you expect me to survive on the streets? I don't even know how to do my own laundry, Sienna!”

Sienna grunted, rolling her eyes toward the ceiling in utter defeat, but she didn't walk out. “Fine. But if we get caught, I’m telling everyone you forced me.”

“Deal,” I muttered.

I sat cross-legged on the floor, aligned the candles, and lit them one by one. The tiny purple flames flickered, casting eerie shadows against the walls.

I closed my eyes, took a deep, shaky breath, and began to chant the ancient Latin incantation.

Down in the basement floorboards beneath us, unknown to either of us, an ancient magical ley-line ran directly under the building, right beneath the frozen ice of the hockey rink where Ethan Silver was currently taking his evening practice laps.

I took another breath and repeated the chant, completely unaware of the absolute chaos we were about to unleash.