Knot A Pucking Fan (Knotty Puckers: A Hockey Omegaverse #5)

Prologue

There’s nothing like the excitement of a hockey game. I grew up at practices, watching players run drills, and loving the thrill that runs through my blood when gloves are thrown down and fights break out.

My lips curl up into a smile as I tug on the end of my braid, watching behind the glass as McCreuger flies past, checking an opponent into it. My body jumps as I gasp, and his dark green eyes move toward me for a moment before he returns to beating the hell out of the opposition.

Swallowing hard, my eyes move to my father standing in front of the bench as he yells, his face turning red. His slightly lighter red hair stands up as he coaches, and a whistle blows as the fight is broken up.

He looks so different from me in that my hair is almost black. Dad sometimes gets a far away look in his eyes when he looks at me, telling me that he sees my mom instead of his daughter. There aren’t any photos of her, a testament of how hard he’s tried to scrub her existence away.

I don’t understand why I’m getting dirty looks from players as they skate across the ice, but I’m not responsible for their shit playing tonight. Dad is going to have them running drills tomorrow during practice until their legs beg for mercy. And then he’s going to keep going.

They’ll deserve every ache and pain.

There are consequences for everyone’s actions, and that’s something I’ve learned first hand from my father.

I’m about to graduate high school at eighteen years old, a semester early due to my hard work, and then I plan to take a gap semester before going to college near my best friend.

They aren’t world changing decisions, but they feel like they are to me.

Everything is going to be so different soon.

There are things that I’m worried about tonight, and it’s making it difficult for me to concentrate on the game.

I pick at an imaginary piece of lint on my jersey and shift uncomfortably as I sit in my jeans and stew in my head.

I presented as an omega yesterday, and while I know all the details of what that means after a very awkward conversation with my father, I worry about what comes next.

I’m going away to college soon and don’t know if I’ll apply for the heat program that’s offered there or not. My father told me it’s completely my decision, and his only concerns are my safety and happiness. It’s been just the two of us since my mom left us when I was three years old.

A part of me can’t help but worry that I might have been the reason that she decided she couldn’t hack life with us.

I was a really curious and hyper kid. Dad never remarried, insisting that he was married to the job.

He put me on the ice at an early age to work out my excess energy, and I played on a kids hockey league until I was twelve.

Outside of the team, his priority is me. Sometimes I want to tell him that it’s okay for him to be happy too. The problem is, he’s stubborn and I doubt he’d listen.

“Hey, why are you here if you’re not even paying attention?” one of the players yells as he flies by on the ice. I can’t tell who it is, but I wouldn’t be surprised if it’s Miles giving me shit for my inattention.

Blinking hard, I shake my head. There are a ton of people in the stadium, why does anyone care what I’m doing?

“Maybe you should focus on playing better!” I sass back.

His lips twitch underneath his safety gear, or at least I think they do as he takes control of the puck and skates hard before passing it. Dad doesn’t like it when players pay too much attention to me, so I never encourage it.

I’m here to support him and the team. I’m supposed to be invisible.

He hates leaving me home alone, which leads to why I’m at every game and practice.

Too many bad things can happen, he says, and I know he’s right.

I’ve done so much homework on the bench while half watching practices that it’s ridiculous.

If it gives him peace of mind, then it’s the least that I can do.

There are groans around the stadium as someone from our team shoots his shot and misses. I’m unfortunately one of them as I catch a glimpse of it.

“Come on,” I mutter under my breath. I won’t catcall because that’s rude, but I know my dad has to be losing his mind.

There’s no reason for them to be playing so shitty. Uncrossing my legs, I lean forward with my arms on my thighs as I glare at the ice. Unless they hustle, they’re not going to be able to turn this around.

When the final buzzer sounds at the end of the game, I shake my head in disgust.

“This was awful,” I sigh, standing.

The other family members near me nod sympathetically, their faces mirroring what mine is saying. I follow them as I walk out of the seating area and down to the bench like I usually do, prepared to witness the team’s anger and disappointment.

I refuse to say anything though as I step into the players area and hang back to wait for my dad to finish up here.

“I don’t think you should have her at games anymore,” McCreuger complains, pointing at me.

I don’t understand why he’s fucking picking on me tonight, and stand tall, ready to defend myself if necessary.

Another team member’s nostril’s flare, and he gazes hungrily at me, freaking me out even more. Oh fuck, can he smell me? I didn’t think about that when I came here. Dad didn’t say anything, which means he didn’t think about it either.

“Hey. Hey! None of that,” Dad growls, stepping in front of me.

“She just presented as an omega last night. You’re fucking adults, act like it!

Caelia is a child. I’ll have her wear scent blockers if you all can’t concentrate enough to play.

I suppose this is my fault for thinking you all were professionals. ”

Peeking out from behind him, I see that there are a few players missing. No one enjoys being reamed by their coach, but I’m surprised they’re disrespecting him so much by having left.

I’m still trying to process what’s happening right now so I push the thought away.

“I’ll wait for you in your office,” I say quietly. “I didn’t realize I’d be a distraction and that is the last thing I want.”

“Straight to my office, please,” Dad murmurs, pressing the key into my hand. “No stops.”

“Yes, sir,” I say, leaving quickly.

Heat burns behind my eyes, because I’m the reason they lost. The shame weighs on me as I walk past the supporting staff of this team. They gaze at me with mixed feelings of pity, sympathy, and anger. It’ll be hard moving forward to hang around the rink when people inherently believe I’m in the way.

It doesn’t matter how hard I attempt to fade into the background, I can’t. Now, with my scent souring due to my mood, it’ll be even harder to come back to practice tomorrow. Dad won’t allow me to not come, but I may be allowed to hide in his office.

“Give yourself a break,” I whisper, struggling to take a deep breath. I know this is what Addie would tell me whenever I make a mistake or my anxiety lies to me. “You didn’t know.”

I know how biology works, scents, and how important it is for omegas to keep themselves safe.

I simply didn’t think it would be an issue at a hockey rink that I pretty much live at.

I travel with them when the team plays away games, but that may need to stop.

My mind is spinning with indecision and confusion, so I’m not paying attention to my surroundings as I avoid people on my way to Dad’s office.

It’s quiet there, and I’ll be able to sink into my pity party away from prying eyes.

Fingers sink into the hair trapped in my braid at the top of my head, using it to propel me into a closet. Twisting and kicking, I whimper in pain as the hand holding me turns into a fist.

“Let me go!” I scream, regretting that I took a path that yielded empty hallways.

“Why?” McCreuger hisses beside my cheek as he presses my face into the wall. “You’re a little whore, perfuming for the team as we played. All I can smell is your sweet, cherry scent and I want to be knot fucking deep inside your cunt.”

It feels as if I’ve just been doused with ice cold water and I can’t stop shivering. The door to the closet opens, but the light from the hallway disappears again as it’s closed quickly.

“Fuck,” the player groans. “She smells so fucking good. I never thought she’d be such a sweet little omega.”

“I’m not sweet,” I yell, gasping as McCreuger’s hand releases my hair to wrap around my throat and squeeze.

“I bet you like it rough, huh?” he growls, unbuttoning my pants and yanking them despite how much I claw at his hand. “Grab her hands.”

I can’t see the player that grabs my wrists and pins them behind my back, ensuring that my back is bent forward as he does so.

My mobility is constricted no matter how much I attempt to buck and pull away because there’s nowhere to go.

The player holding my wrists yanks down my bra as he snakes his hand under my jersey.

He’s behind me, using my position to hide his identity.

I want to tell them that my father will kill them, that their careers are over, but McCreuger’s hand around my throat is causing black spots to appear around my vision. I feel sick as he rips my panties away and then there’s something hard pushing at my skin.

Hot, enraged tears slide down my cheeks as he bends his knees to find my entrance.

“Fuck, you’re bone dry,” he mutters, thrusting forward anyway. “I wonder if I can bark you into getting wet for me.”

It hurts, God he’s tearing me up, and I sob without sound as he takes my innocence.

I’ve never dated, had a first kiss, and now my virginity is being torn from me by an alpha who believes my scent is my consent.

I’ve never even thought about the possibility of an alpha taking everything away from me.

My father has always been a safe place for me, and it’s skewed my view of the world.