Taming The Hockey Alpha; My Worst Enemy

Elara’s POV

"All aboard!"

The conductor’s shout was a death knell. I watched the last of the normal world vanish as the train began its final ascent into the jagged, mist-choked peaks of the Scottish Highlands.

This wasn’t just a school but a fortress... Vosswood Academy.

From the outside, it's a dream of ivy-covered stone towers and rolling green lawns... to the rest of the world, it was an ultra-exclusive boarding school for the children of the global elite.

But to us—the ones with teeth and claws—it was a cage where the hierarchy was written in blood.

I retreated into the cramped, flickering light of the train’s bathroom, locking the door with a trembling hand.

I leaned over the sink, staring at the girl in the mirror.

She looked mous, plain and pathetic.

My curves, the ones my mother always told me were a gift from the Goddess, were buried beneath an oversized navy blazer that felt like a shroud.

My golden-tanned skin, usually radiant with the heat of my heritage, had been turned a sickly, matte gray by the overhead lights.

But it wasn’t enough.

To survive here, I had to be invisible.

In my hand, I held a vial of Eternal Veil... liquid gold, shimmering with a light that didn't belong in this world.

My father had spent a small fortune to have this brewed by the High Coven. It was the only way I could walk into the lion’s den without being shredded.

My heart hammered against my ribs—a frantic, terrified rhythm.

"Don't do it, Elara," Mina, my wolf, whispered in the back of my mind.

Her voice was thin, suppressed by the iron-heavy atmosphere of the Highlands. "If you hide us, we might never find our way back. You’re killing our spirit."

"I have to, Mina," I breathed, my voice cracking against the silence. "My father owns every stone of this school. He built it to be a sanctuary, but now it's rotting from the inside."

I can't be the owner's daughter but the scholarship girl, a girl no one would bother to look at twice.

The High Council back home had made the stakes devastatingly clear: if the royal wolf packs in the school discovered a hybrid of the High Line had crossed their borders, they would declare an all-out school war.

I wasn't just here to protect my father's school; I am an undercover operative sent to find the source of the "Shadow" corruption before it infected the entire supernatural world.

My survival—and the survival of the entire school depended on this.

I uncapped the vial... the scent of chemical ash and dead lilies filled the tiny room, thick enough to make my eyes watery.

I tipped the cold liquid onto my pulse points.

I screamed... the sound was muffled by the roar of the train’s engine, but the pain was a physical weight. It felt like ice-cold needles were being driven into my veins, freezing the fire in my blood.

The magic surged—a violent, suffocating blanket that wrapped around my soul and squeezed it until I couldn't breathe.

My golden aura, the light that usually radiated from my skin like a permanent sunset, flickered... once, twice and then it died.

I looked back at the mirror and the girl was gone.

In her place was a ghost, a scholarship girl and a nobody.

I wiped a stray tear from my dull cheek, straightened my pleated navy skirt, and stepped out onto the platform as the train hissed to a final stop.

The air at Vosswood tasted of peat, ancient stone, and something dark—something rotting.

It's the "Shadow," the corruption my father had sent me here to investigate. It clung to the back of my throat like soot.

The platform contains a lot of navy blazers and expensive leather suitcases. Wealth and power rolled off the students in waves, their scents aggressive and cloying.

"Look at her," a sharp, high-pitched voice rang out through the mist. "Who let the cow off the train?"

I didn't have to look up to know who it was.

Genevieve Laurent.

She stood near the station sign, surrounded by her hand-picked crew of sycophants.

She was the definition of Vosswood royalty—platinum blonde hair, a tailored blazer that hugged her thin body, and a scent of artificial lilies that made my nose itch.

She stepped into my path, her eyes scanning my body with a look of pure, unadulterated disgust.

"You're the new scholarship girl, aren't you?" she sneered, her voice carrying across the platform. "Elara... something? You're taking up an awful lot of space on our platform, miss something."

"I'm just trying to get to the Great Hall," I said, my voice low while my eyes fixed on the gravel at her feet.

[SLAP]

The sound was a whip-crack in the silence.

My head snapped to the side, the force of the blow staggering me while my fake glasses—the one I wore to hide the gold flecks in my eyes—skittered across the stone.

The metallic tang of blood filled my mouth while my cheek burned like it had been branded with fire.

Inside, Mina let out a roar of pure, incandescent rage. 'Let me out, Elara! I will rip her throat out for that!'

'No,' I told her, my hands trembling as I knelt in the dirt to find my glasses. 'If I touch her, the magic will flare. She’ll know, so stay down.'

"That’s for breathing the same air as us," Genevieve laughed, her crew joining in with cruel, high-pitched giggles. "Welcome to Vosswood, charity case. Don't expect to survive the week. We don't like eyesores here."

I felt the tears prickling, but I refused to let them fall.

I was reaching for my cracked glasses when a heavy, suffocating weight suddenly settled over the platform.

The laughter died instantly.

The air grew cold, charged with a static that made the hair on my arms stand up.

The mist seemed to part as a figure moved through it.

He was massive. His shoulders were broad enough to block out the mountain sun, his navy hockey jersey stretched tight over muscles that looked like they were carved from granite.

He didn't just walk; he prowled.

He smelled like ozone, cold ice, and raw, predatory power.

Ryker Black... the Alpha of the Shadowfang Pack. The captain of the team and my worst enemy.

My wolf went silent—not out of fear, but out of a sudden, agonizing recognition.

My blood, which I had just frozen with the Veil, began to thrum with a heat I couldn't explain.

Ryker stopped a foot away from me.

He didn't offer me a hand nor look at Genevieve, though she was practically vibrating with the need for his attention but looked down at me, his nostrils flaring.

His eyes were a dark, stormy gray, but for a split second, as he scanned my face, I saw a flash of predatory gold.

He flinched... it was subtle, but I saw it. He looked like I had just struck him.