My Hockey Alpha



We sat in silence, letting the weight of my confession fill the room. Tyler's grip on my hand tightened, as if he could somehow squeeze the fear out of me, and replace it with the courage I so desperately needed.

"I don't know what this entity is, Tyler, but it terrifies me," I finally admitted, my voice barely above a whisper. "Nina, have you considered talking to someone about this?" Tyler broke his silence, his words cautious.

I raised an eyebrow skeptically. "A therapist, you mean? You really think some human shrink can make sense of what I'm going through? They'd hear everything I have to tell them and they'd think I'm crazy."

Tyler sighed, his fingers brushing through his tousled hair in a rare display of agitation. "No, not a human therapist. But there are people out there trained to deal with... well, unique situations like yours. People who understand both the human and the supernatural aspects."

My eyes narrowed, pondering the possibility. "You mean a werewolf therapist?"

"Yes. Or at the very least, someone from the werewolf realm. I could do some research for you, help you find someone reputable."

A werewolf therapist. The idea had honestly never crossed my mind, seeing as how I had spent most of my life believing that werewolves didn't exist.

"I don't know, Tyler," I said, shaking my head. "It just feels... pointless, sometimes."

Tyler's eyes locked onto mine, and for a moment, I saw a flicker of the old Tyler, the sweet little brother who had played superheroes with me and always wanted to hold my hand on the way home from school, even when I was being belligerent.

"Maybe it is," he conceded. "But honestly, what's the alternative, Nina? Living in fear? Constantly questioning your sanity?"

His words, in a strange way, were a haunting reminder of the torment I had been going through lately. I glanced at the clock on the bedside table. It wasn't even nine o'clock yet, and I was already exhausted from it all.

"I guess you're right. I'm not just thinking about myself anymore," I finally whispered, my hand instinctively dropping to my abdomen where a new life was taking form.

Tyler followed my gaze. "The baby."

I nodded. "I can't bring a child into this world knowing I'm plagued by visions or entities or whatever the hell this thing is,"

Tyler nodded, his demeanor shifting from one of concern to one of resolution. "Then you know what you need to do. For your sake and for the baby's. If there's even a slim chance that talking to a werewolf therapist can help, isn't it worth trying out?"

His argument was compelling. And yet, a part of me still hesitated, clinging to the stubborn belief that I could manage this on my own, as if every therapist would just be another Edward.

But then, my thoughts drifted to the child within me. A life I was responsible for, a life that deserved a mother who was whole, unburdened by shadows, literal or figurative.

"You're right, Tyler," I admitted. "I should try. Not just for me, but for Enzo, and for our child too."

Tyler beamed, visibly relieved. "I think you're making the right choice, Nina. And remember, you're not alone in this."

His words made me smile, but at the same time, beads of tears began to well up in my eyes again. I blinked them away and rested my head on his shoulder, chuckling slightly.

"I'd better not find out that mom and dad sent you in here to convince me of this," I teased, lightly punching his arm.

Tyler chuckled and punched me back, with a little more strength than he used to have. "Of course not," he replied. "But I should warn you..."

"Trust me, I know," I interrupted as I heard the unmistakable sound of footsteps coming up the winding staircase outside my room. "I'm prepared for the lecture."