My Hockey Alpha Chapter 236

My Hockey Alpha by Eve Above Story

My Hockey Alpha Chapter 236-Chapter 236: The Search for the Dark Princess Nina With one last teary-eyed look at my friends, Enzo took my hand and we stepped through the portal together.

When we came out on the other side, we were in a different place than before. I still hadn’t perfected my portal skills, and so I had no way of knowing where exactly a portal that I made would open to. This time, we weren’t even in the forest.

In fact, as I looked around with confusion, I saw that we seemed to be on the outskirts of a town.

“Where are we?” I asked, glancing around at our surroundings with my eyebrows scrunched together. “This isn’t the forest.” Enzo looked around as well. “I know this town,” he said. “But… It’s several hours away from the Alpha King’s mansion. Even longer on foot.” I felt anger begin to bubble up inside of me, and I cursed annoyedly. This was supposed to be simple. I was supposed to get as close to the Alpha King’s mansion as possible so I could get all of this over with quickly, but now we were stranded far away from the mansion with no vehicle. The town was small, too, and appeared to be in the middle of nowhere. In fact, the town was hardly even a town at all; it was more of a roadside pit stop than anything. All I could see was a gas station, a general store, a bar, and a few houses. Mountainview was tiny, but this place made it look huge.

“It’s alright,” Enzo said, although I wondered if he truly meant that or if he was just trying to make me feel better. “Let’s go and ask around. Maybe we can find a ride.” I didn’t think that anyone from such a small town would be so willing to give two strangers a ride to the Alpha King’s mansion, but it was too late. Enzo was already pulling me toward the gas station.

As we approached the main road of the tiny little town, it felt like a scene out of one of those old western movies; only this town was located in the middle of a pine forest, and not the middle of the desert. The energy was the same, however. It was so quiet that I could have heard a pin drop, and there were no cars or other people. If it weren’t for the old man who was standing and looking at us through the window of his house with a sullen expression on his face, I would have thought that no one even lived here.

The way that the old man looked at us through the window made me uneasy.

“Enzo, we don’t know if these people are welcoming to strangers,” I said nervously as he pulled me across the road. “They might have guns.” “They’re all werewolves,” Enzo replied matter-of-factly. “They don’t need guns.” I knew that Enzo was trying to make me feel better, but it actually only made me feel worse. Before, I was worried about getting blasted off the face of the planet by a shotgun, and now I was just worried about getting ripped to shreds by an angry werewolf in its wolf form.

At least I had Enzo with me.

We crossed the street and walked up to the small gas station. It had a flickering neon sign in the window that faded in and out, and much to my surprise, the sign indicated that the gas station was open twenty-four hours a day. For a town this size, I expected the gas station to be open one day a week.

When we stepped inside, I was immediately accosted by the smell of booze and cigarettes. It was an unexpected smell for the inside of a gas station, and I had to resist the urge to pull my shirt up over my nose. There was an attendant behind the counter — a middle-aged woman with a ponytail and too many wrinkles, probably from all of the smoking — who just stared at us warily as we entered. Enzo, clearly not wanting to raise any alarms, led me over to one of the coolers. He grabbed two bottles of water, several bags of various snacks, and handed everything to me while he then filled two cardboard cups with coffee. We then walked up to the attendant and dropped everything down on the enamel- coated counter.

The attendant scanned our items slowly, never breaking eye contact with us. The intense smell of cigarettes was definitely coming from her. It was so strong now that it almost made me gag, and I felt my eyes begin to water.

“Seventeen-fifty,” she said, her voice hoarse and gravelly. Enzo handed her a twenty dollar bill. “You want a bag?” “Yes, please,” Enzo replied, trying to sound casual. The attendant made a bit of a face, but retrieved a plastic bag from beneath the counter and began shoving our things in it. Enzo cleared his throat. “Erm… You happen to know if there’s a bus stop or anything around here?” The woman paused, her eyes slowly sliding up to look at Enzo. She let out a sharp snort. “Ain’t no buses out here.” “W-What about a place to rent a car?” I asked sheepishly.

The woman then turned to glare at me. She looked me up and down, chewing a bit of tobacco in her mouth, and made another face. “Where are you from?” I opened my mouth to answer, but before I could, Enzo interrupted. “Listen,” he said, somewhat sternly, “we really need a ride. We’ll pay for gas and for their time. We just need to hurry.” There were several moments of silence. The woman seemed put off by Enzo’s sudden demand, and looked him up and down in the same way that she looked at me. She looked like she was about to tell us to fuck off, but then a gruff voice suddenly spoke up from behind us.

“Where ya headed?” Enzo and I whipped around. My eyes widened as I realized that the man standing in front of us now was the same old man who had just been staring out his window at us. He was wearing a thick flannel coat, a beat-up pair of jeans and an even more beat-up pair of work boots. He was thin, a little too thin for someone that age, but I could see from the leathery and sinewy look of his wrists that poked out from his rolled-up sleeves that he must have worked really hard his entire life. His face was dark from days spent working in the sun, and he had deep lines all around his eyes from squinting. But his eyes… His eyes were a bright yellow peering out at us from beneath his trucker hat.

“We’re…” Enzo paused, seemingly appraising the old man, and for some reason he seemed to trust him enough to tell him exactly where we needed to go. “We’re going to the Alpha King’s mansion.” There was a long silence.

Then, suddenly, the old man snorted — much like the attendant behind the counter, but much louder and more abrasive. The attendant also let out a low, condescending chuckle.

“Why’re a couple’a kids like you headed to the Alpha King’s mansion, hm?” the old man chortled.

Enzo opened his mouth to speak, but before he could, I stepped forward and swallowed my fear.

“Listen, mister,” I said, trying to sound tougher than I really felt, “it’s important. If you take us, we’ll pay you whatever you want.” The old man stared at me for a long time, his yellow eyes searching my face. Then, finally, he shrugged and jerked his head toward the door.

“C’mon. I got my truck out front.”

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