Kayden
"Hot update from the Glacier Dome—" A woman's bright voice crackled through the press hall speakers, and every camera instantly swung toward the sound, their lenses waiting.
"The Northlake Avalanche have officially welcomed their newest left wing, Kayden Vale, age twenty-three, formerly of the Westbridge Falcons—the same standout who led the Junior team to victory two years ago. Fans are already flooding social media with questions about his sudden transfer, his future with the Avalanche, and the unexpected pairing with team captain Rhys Calder, known for his Stanley Cup-winning streaks."
My name echoed across the room at the announcement, which felt like a terminal warning in my head.
The press lights were a blinding sheet of white heat, and I had to squint my eyes before adjusting to the brightness.
I walked forward, feeling the invisible hand of my life settle under my collar, pushing me, forcing the Alpha smile onto my face as I stepped up to the podium. Every instinct screamed at me to look calm—to look dominant, like the perfect, controlled Alpha I had pretended to be over the years.
This is who I was now—an Alpha who had joined the league's top hockey player.
Microphones rose toward me in my face, and cameras flashed like strobe explosions. Voices layered over each other as they bombarded me with questions.
"Kayden, how do you feel about the trade?"
"Were you pushed out by Westbridge?"
"What are your goals with the Avalanche this season?"
"Is it true you suffered an injury last year and hid it?"
I didn't flinch. I had mastered the art of standing perfectly still while the world tried to tear away what little I had left.
"I'm excited to be here," I said, my words smooth and shaped for public consumption. "The Avalanche is an incredible team with a history of excellence. I'm looking forward to giving everything I have to help them maintain their winning streaks. This feels like a fresh start, and I'm grateful for the chance."
They nodded, scribbled, and recorded as they should. Then, the press host cleared her throat as she made another announcement.
"Captain Calder will now join Kayden for photos and formal introductions."
A heavy, sudden shift in the air rolled across the stage as a door opened behind me. I didn't have to turn to know the Captain had arrived. His scent hit me first: strong, sharp, and clean, like crushed winter pine mixed with cold steel.
The smell of a strong Alpha. A true Alpha.
It was like an invisible force field—a suffocating, undeniable authority that pressed against my chest and momentarily stole my breath.
Rhys Calder. Twenty-seven. The youngest captain in Avalanche history and a living legend with nothing left to prove. He was someone I had looked up to for years—not that I'd ever let him know it.
When I finally forced myself to turn, I understood why the media called him both a king and a beast on the ice rink in the same breath.
Rhys was immense; his presence seemed to shrink the room, making the air feel thin. At 6'3", he was several inches taller than my 5'11" frame, with shoulders that looked impossibly broad beneath his Avalanche training jacket. But it was his face that felt like a physical blow. He had a thick mane of dark, messy curls that fell over his forehead, contrasting with the sharp, lethal line of his jaw. His eyes were the color of a freezing blue ocean, but my gaze snagged, traitorously, on his lips—full, luscious, and currently set in a hard line that promised zero mercy.
Even through the heavy fabric of his gear, I could see the outlines of a perfectly toned, powerful body built for violence on the ice. He wasn't just a player; he was a predator in a suit.
When he reached me, he extended a large, calloused hand.
I placed mine in his, but instead of a standard professional grip, I let my fingers linger. I deliberately let my thumb brush over his knuckles, a touch far too intimate for two strangers. I felt the heat of his skin, the raw Alpha energy radiating off him.
The handshake lasted three seconds too long. His grip tightened, his fingers threatening to crush mine as if he were reading my pulse through my palm. He wasn't greeting me; he was taking inventory.
"You are smaller than I expected, Vale," he murmured. His voice was a low, deep vibration that rumbled in my own chest.
I didn't pull away. Instead, I leaned in until our shoulders nearly brushed, catching the heavy hit of his winter-pine scent.
"And you're a lot older than you look on TV, Captain," I whispered back, my voice dripping with fake sympathy. "Don't worry, I'm great at carrying heavy loads. I can handle your slack while you're heading toward retirement."
The corner of those plush lips thinned into a dangerous line. His eyes darkened, the icy blue turning into a full-blown blizzard.
"The Avalanche isn't a charity," Rhys said, his voice dropping an octave—a silent Alpha command that made my skin prickle. "Don't mistake my patience for a welcome."
"And don't mistake my presence for an invitation to coach me," I replied, my smile sharpening. "I'm here to win. Whether you like how I look doing it is your problem, not mine."
I felt his fingers crush mine for a split second, a sharp warning of the power he held, before he abruptly let go of my hand. Then, he smiled at me for the cameras.
The cameras clicked furiously, capturing what the world saw as a firm agreement between stars. They had no idea I had just spat in the face of a legend, and he wasn't taking it well.
His eyes dropped, scanning my expression, peeling apart every constructed layer I had spent years building.
No one had ever looked at me like that—with suspicion and calculating interest tangled together in a single, potent challenge. For one harrowing heartbeat, it felt like he saw through the Alpha facade I wore.
Then someone called his name, and the spell snapped.
He stepped beside me for the photo, his arms folded behind his back, his posture straight and his expression utterly unreadable. I stood a fraction closer than necessary, letting the crowd capture what they wanted: a new partnership between a rising star and a legendary Captain.
"What do you have to say about Kayden? Do you think he fits in with the team?"
Rhys chuckled as he turned to look at me, his eyes casting a look downward that showed he wasn't impressed. And for no reason at all, I hated it.
"Let's see if the rookie can last a week with the team or won't go running once he tastes what real training is," Rhys grinned wickedly at me and slapped a hand on my shoulder. "Welcome to the team, Vale. I hope you last."
I frowned at him at first, but when I saw that all eyes were on us, I forced a smile onto my face, then whispered back to him.
"Thank you, Captain. I'll make sure to show you exactly what I am capable of."
He looked at me as if I had grown a second head.
I winked at him. Game on, Captain.