Behind His Mask: My Hockey Alpha

(Rhea's POV)

For some people, a painting is just art. But for me, it's peace-at least until an old painting arrived at the gallery this morning.

I stared at it-"The Moon Painting"-now laid out on the restoration table. The canvas was aged, the colors dull, and some corners were starting to peel. But what had me frozen wasn't just its physical state. There was something about this painting that made me... feel strange. Like my heart would beat faster every time I gently brushed its surface.

I'm Rhea Hale. A painting restorer. And since I was a kid, I've always had a sensitivity to old things. Some people call it intuition. My mom said I was "different." But to me, it just means I often end up emotionally drained after working.

Today I was alone in the restoration studio at Elaria Gallery. The afternoon light streamed in through the large windows, catching dust particles dancing in the air. "The Moon Painting" was set to be displayed at a charity event tomorrow at two. I was almost done restoring it.

"You look completely lost in that painting," said Mrs. Elka, the gallery owner, pulling me out of my thoughts. She stood in the doorway with a cup of tea in her hands.

I turned to her. "I don't know, Mrs. Elka. It feels like... I've seen this painting before. But I'm sure I haven't."

She walked over and examined the painting, brows furrowed. "That's how I felt when I first saw it too. It was found in storage at one of our old gallery branches. There's no record of the artist, but somehow... the vibe is strong."

I nodded slowly. "You're right, Mrs. Elka. Look at the eyes... They look alive."

"The eyes?" she asked with a chuckle.

I shook my head quickly. "I mean, they look like... they're following us."

She laughed. "That's just because you're exhausted from working on it."

Before the conversation could go on, the studio door swung open. Lina-my fellow restorer-walked in with a huge smile and two tickets in her hand.

"Rhea! Guess what I've got!" she said excitedly.

I grinned. "With that look on your face, I know it's not just good news-it's amazing news."

She waved two metallic blue tickets. "Exclusive tickets to tonight's hockey game! Front row seats! My friend works at the arena and just gave these to me!"

I raised an eyebrow. "Tonight? But we've got that charity event tomorrow at two."

Mrs. Elka cut in, "Relax. The painting's almost done, right? You can head home early-as long as your work's completely finished."

Lina nodded eagerly. "Besides, you'll totally regret it if you don't come. Because... Kaelan's playing tonight."

I rolled my eyes. "Kaelan Viero?"

"Yes! That's why you have to come! Come on. When else will we get to see him play live?"

After thinking it over for a bit, I nodded. "Alright. But we'll leave after I've cleaned everything up."

We chatted for a little while longer before Lina left to get ready, and Mrs. Elka said goodbye to take care of tomorrow's event. I turned back to The Moon Painting. The mist between the trees looked like it was almost moving. And... two faint golden eyes were hidden among the shadows.

I reached for the switch to turn off the main lights. But right before the room went dark-I saw it.

Those two golden eyes glowed.

I froze. Leaned in closer. But the light was too dim now.

"Maybe it's just a reflection," I whispered. "Or I'm just tired."

I decided not to think too much of it. Locked the studio and went to catch up with Lina.

***

The hockey arena was packed. Cheers from the crowd, the sound of bells, spinning lights-everything made the atmosphere electric. Lina and I sat in the front row, the perfect spot to watch the match. And honestly... it was my first time watching a national hockey game live.

"This is insane," I murmured. "I've never been this close to the rink before."

"Wait 'til Kaelan comes out," Lina said with a knowing smile.

A few minutes later, music blasted and the players started skating onto the ice. The cheers got louder. And then, Kaelan Viero appeared.

He looked different than he did on TV. Taller. Sexier. More real. And... more dangerous.

Kaelan skated to the center of the rink with his team. But somehow, before the game even started, he turned toward the crowd. And his eyes-those sharp golden eyes-landed right on me.

I froze. It felt like being caught on camera-but deeper. Like he could see through me.

"He's looking at you," Lina whispered, eyes wide.

I shook my head. "No... He's probably just looking toward the general crowd. Not directly at me, Lina."

Lina eventually nodded, agreeing with me.

Just then, the game started.

It was intense right from the start. The scraping skates on the ice, body checks, and the sound of sticks hitting the puck made my chest tighten. Kaelan's team dominated from the first minute. He moved fast, sharp, calculated-like a predator who knew exactly when to strike.

A few times, he weaved past opponents with jaw-dropping moves, making the crowd scream. But I barely cheered. My eyes were stuck on him. Not as the national team captain... but as someone whose presence made my body react in ways I couldn't explain.

Why did seeing him in person mess with my emotions like this?

Kaelan scored the winning goal in the final minute. The entire arena exploded in celebration.

But what made my heart race... was the fact that right after the goal, he looked at me again.

Again. Directly at me.

That gaze hit me hard, like something stirred in my chest. It wasn't love, it wasn't admiration. It was... something I couldn't explain. Like my body knew him, more than just a famous hockey player.

The match ended with a massive win for Elaria Northern Blades. The whole arena was buzzing with energy, cheers for Kaelan, the other players, and the team echoing everywhere.

Honestly, for an introvert like me, this kind of atmosphere made my chest tight-until I got a headache and felt a little sick.

"Rhea, I'm gonna run to the restroom," Lina said.

I instantly smiled, relieved-this was my chance to escape the chaos. "I'll come with you."

Lina chuckled. "I knew you'd want to get out of this crowd."

"I'll wait in the side hallway by the stands," I said as I stood up.

We squeezed past other fans who were still busy celebrating the win. And just as I turned to find the exit, someone suddenly grabbed my wrist.

"Lina, why are you dragging me this wa-"

My sentence stopped.

The person holding my wrist... wasn't Lina.

His hand was still wrapped around mine.

I looked up-and the world seemed to stop.

Kaelan Viero.

He was standing right in front of me. Way too close. Way too real.

"Sorry, I thought you were my friend," I said awkwardly.

"We need to talk," Kaelan said.

He stared at me. His golden eyes glowed faintly.

"Do you know me?" I asked without meaning to.

"Not yet. But... I think you're about to find out a lot more than that."

I wanted to ask him more. But something in his gaze-and the way he spoke-made my body freeze.

"Will you come with me?"

***

(Kaelan's POV)

The scent of blood and sweat usually fills the arena the moment I step inside. Adrenaline, hardened ice, the sound of skates scratching against a slick surface-it's all familiar. The rhythm is always the same. Steady. Predictable. Safe.

But tonight was different.

The moment the locker room door opened and I stepped into the hallway leading to the rink, something suddenly hit me. Not roughly. Not sharply. But it pierced slowly, like embers pressed against the back of my neck. A faint scent slipped into my senses. Warm. Wild. Gentle and unfamiliar, and yet... intense.

My body froze for a second because of it, before I forced myself to keep moving.

What is this... Ah... No! That's not possible.

But I knew that scent. My body reacted instantly, just from recognizing it.

For years, I'd never felt a pull like this. Not toward anyone. Not toward anything. And now, it hit me in the middle of a packed, overheated stadium, triggering my instincts before I could stop them.

I tried to ignore it, because the game was about to start. Warm-up time was over, and the coach was already shouting directions from the sidelines. But damn... my focus was wrecked. Tonight, I was playing with pure instinct instead of my usual strategy.

Several times during the match, my eyes would drift toward the stands on their own.

I didn't even know who I was looking for, but my body reacted automatically. Every time that scent came back, I turned my head. Searching. In the middle of the cheering crowd, I caught a glimpse of a woman with dark hair, sitting slightly apart from everyone else. She wasn't cheering. She just sat there quietly, like she was absorbing the atmosphere in a completely different way.

It was only a glance.

But it was enough to throw off my heartbeat completely.

Honestly, tonight's win should've felt satisfying-Elaria Northern Blades finally beat the Victoria Ice Wolves. But instead, my thoughts kept drifting.

Who was she? Who was that woman?

When the match ended and we won, the crowd exploded in cheers. I quickly skated to the side, took off my helmet, and walked down the hallway. Sweat was still running down my temple as I slipped away from the cameras and teammates celebrating behind me.

And the farther I walked... the stronger that scent became.

Until I saw her... at the end of the hall.

She was standing there alone. Her hair down, wearing a simple jacket, and her eyes... locked onto mine. My heart stopped for a split second when she looked back at me. I couldn't even speak. My body moved on its own, like it knew what to do-walking straight toward her and taking her hand.

As we stood just a few steps apart, I knew it was her.

My mate.

But her eyes were blank. No recognition. No pull in return. Just... confusion. And that threw me off.

"We need to talk," I said, my voice lower than usual.

She looked tense, like a deer spotting a wolf but not sure yet whether to run or fight.

But before she could say anything, laughter and loud shouts erupted behind me.

"Kaelan!"

Two of my teammates burst into the hallway. They called me, pulled on my arm, completely ignoring the girl. Either they didn't see her, or they just didn't care about anyone outside our hockey circle.

"Reporters are waiting, bro! Come on before Coach loses it," Tony urged.

I looked at her one last time. Her face was still full of confusion. But there wasn't time to explain. Not enough space to talk. So I let go of her hand.

"I'll find you. So... wait for me," I said quietly before letting myself get dragged away.

But even as my steps carried me out of the stadium, part of me stayed in that hallway-with the blue-eyed girl.

I would find her.

I had to.

***

The post-game interviews were quick. Cameras, microphones, same tired questions I was already sick of answering. The media spotlight never left me alone-they always made me the "Face" of the Elaria Northern Blades.

"How does tonight's big win feel, Kaelan?"

"When will you be ready for the next championship?"

"You're still the season's top scorer-do you feel pressured to keep that up?"

I gave the usual replies. Light smiles, a few nods, a steady voice. Like everything was under control.

But the one thing I really wanted to know... was about the woman I saw in the hallway minutes ago. And now she was gone.

After the interviews and a short celebration with the team, I finally went home. Surrounded by noise, lights, and praise I didn't care about. My mind was still stuck in that hallway-with her empty stare.

And tonight... I needed silence. But not the kind that meant being alone.

***

Callum ended up showing up without being called. He always knew when to show up.

We sat on the balcony of my apartment. The cold bit through the air, but I didn't care. City lights sparkled like stars. The night sky stretched endlessly above us.

He sipped canned coffee and glanced at me.

"You're coming to the charity event at Elaria Gallery tomorrow, right?"

I slowly turned to him. "Yeah."

"Good. Don't bail without notice like last year. The committee almost lost it."

I just nodded. My gaze went back to the sky.

Callum was quiet for a moment, then looked at me a little longer. "You're way too quiet tonight. Even for someone who just won a game, this is... weird."

I dropped my head slightly, avoiding his eyes.

"Nothing's wrong," I said briefly. I still wasn't sure if I should tell him about the woman. Not yet... Not until I was certain.

"Okay," he replied softly, though I knew he didn't believe me.

I didn't explain. And he understood me well enough to not push.

We sat in silence for a long time, the wind weaving through the iron bars of the balcony.

At the very least... I just needed quiet, even though my mind was screaming.

***

The day of the charity event at Elaria Gallery finally arrived. I got there just as the event was starting.

Important guests were arriving in gowns and formal suits. Photographers wandered around, catching flashes of celebrities and public figures. A few reporters recognized me and their cameras automatically followed as I stepped into the main hall.

But I didn't care about the spotlight. My attention was instantly drawn to one thing: a painting at the center of the room, displayed with such exclusivity.

The Moon Painting.

Its frame was huge, the canvas old but strong, and the light shining on it brought out the soft fog and full moon hanging in the emptiness. The painting felt almost alive.

And the longer I stared at it... the scent returned. The same one from last night in the hallway. Only this time, it was stronger. Clearer.

I scanned every corner of the room. My eyes sharpened.

And when I looked west of where I stood... There she was.

That woman.

My mate.

She stood a few meters away from the painting, wearing a dark-colored dress-simple, but elegant. Her hair was loosely tied up. She was speaking to two important guests-probably a curator or collector. Her face calm, her voice soft. Professional.

I stood near the painting, blending in with the crowd. But my eyes never left her.

A few minutes later, she walked toward the Moon Painting with three others. They formed a half circle, and the woman began explaining.

"It's called... the Moon Painting. This piece is unsigned but verified as part of a private collection belonging to an old noble family. It's believed to serve as a bridge between the real world and the subconscious," she said. Her voice was so gentle.

She paused for a moment. Her eyes swept over the crowd.

And the next second, our eyes met.

She looked slightly startled to see me, but quickly looked away. Her voice stayed steady as she continued the explanation.

"If you stand in front of this painting long enough, you'll feel... something you can't quite explain. As if the painting has a pulse of its own."

I stepped closer. My voice low as I said, "I feel like this painting is alive too."

She turned toward me slowly. Her gaze sharp, but controlled.

"You're right, sir," she replied curtly. "If we connect deeply enough with the painting, we might actually feel it come alive."

An older woman beside me nodded. "What an incredible piece. It has... an energy to it, doesn't it?"

"Perhaps," she said calmly. "Every pair of eyes sees something different."

I looked at her for a long moment and read the name tag hanging around her neck.

Rhea Hale.

She knew I was watching her. But she stood tall, still guiding her little group like a pro.

Other guests joined in, and a light discussion followed. One man asked about the technique, a woman asked about the paint and age of the canvas. The woman-Rhea-answered them all patiently, even as her eyes occasionally flicked toward me.

And for the first time... I found myself wanting to stay in one place just to hear someone talk.

Not as a hockey player.

But as someone... drawn to her.

And I couldn't understand why she looked like she knew me-yet chose not to remember.

***

(Rhea's POV)

I knew today was going to be a long one, but I didn't expect every second of it to feel this strange.

I tried to shake off my thoughts and quickly went to check the paintings on display before the guests started arriving.

Out of all the pieces exhibited tonight, the Moon Painting always pulled at me the most. But for some reason, when I looked at it tonight, something felt... different.

I only glanced at the canvas as I crossed the hall-but in that brief moment, I saw something. A pair of eyes in the painting shimmered, like they were reflecting actual moonlight.

I froze. My steps halted.

Was I hallucinating?

My eyes scanned the room, hoping someone else had seen it too. The guests were still admiring the painting, but their faces looked normal. They were just smiling, nodding, or chatting about colors and techniques. No one looked surprised. No one seemed to notice what I just saw.

My heart thudded unevenly in my chest.

I forced myself to stay calm as I explained the Moon Painting to the next group. My smile stayed, my voice steady, my steps measured. But underneath all of that, I just wanted to close my eyes and take a deep breath. Unfortunately, that would've looked weird.

I glanced elsewhere among the arriving guests, and there he was... that national hockey player-Kaelan Viero. He was standing there. Still. Blending into the crowd. But the way he looked at me felt piercing. Not because his stare was sharp. But because-somehow-I felt like he was way too close.

More guests arrived and started forming small discussion circles. I guided them toward other parts of the gallery and answered a few technical questions about the restoration methods used on the displayed artworks. But I couldn't shake the Moon Painting out of my head-or the man who had stood near it just minutes ago.

Once I finished with the last group, I returned to the Moon Painting with another set of guests.

One middle-aged man from the group stepped closer and asked, "Did the painter have a spiritual background?"

I gave him a polite smile. "I can't say for sure, Sir. What I do know is that this piece came from the collection of an old noble family. I only restored it. But judging by the brush technique and the materials used, yes... there is a certain energy that feels different about this painting."

"Exactly. I felt like... there's something hidden behind it," his wife whispered.

I didn't respond to that directly. Because deep down... I felt the same.

I continued explaining the other paintings to them. After they walked off, I returned to the Moon Painting. I needed to take a closer look-just to make sure what I saw earlier wasn't just a shadow.

This time, I inspected it more carefully. My fingers traced the back corners of the canvas, pretending I was checking for last-minute touch-ups, when really, I was just staring at the image on it. But when I touched the bottom edge of the frame, I felt something thin slip between the wooden layers.

An old piece of paper.

I frowned slightly, then pulled it out slowly. It was yellowed, the edges brittle like it had been left in a damp place for too long. There was no visible writing-at least, not at first. But when I held it under the display light, faint patterns appeared-circles and strange lines in the center. Not writing. More like... engravings resembling symbols or specific images.

My index finger touched the surface. Instantly, a cold sensation shot through my arm. Not just any cold. A chill that pierced right into the bone. It felt... like a jolt of electricity.

I held my breath. "Is this part of the original piece?" I whispered, though I didn't expect an answer.

But before I could examine it further, footsteps echoed from the hallway. Instinctively, I slipped the paper into my notebook and closed it quickly.

I looked back at the painting.

And right then-again.

The faint pair of eyes etched into the fog of the painting shimmered for a second. Like dew reflecting the dim light of the hall. Just a blink. But it was clear.

My jaw dropped slightly. I looked around again. And once again... no one reacted. No one noticed anything.

Was this some kind of restoration effect? Or...

I turned toward where Kaelan had been standing. And he was still looking at me.

His gaze wasn't calm anymore. This time, there was confusion. A hint of worry. But also... something like recognition?

My heart sank.

Could it be that... he saw it too? Did he know something about this painting?

I looked away, trying to refocus on my duties. But the questions wouldn't stop spinning in my head.

***

It was almost 9 p.m. now. The number of guests was thinning. Classical piano music still played softly in the background, mixed with the occasional clink of glasses and quiet conversations.

I thanked the last group of guests, then walked to the drinks table. My hand trembled a little as I poured water. Maybe from exhaustion. Or... maybe something else.

"Rhea, are you okay?" asked Kira, one of the young curators who'd been helping me tonight.

I nodded quickly. "Yeah. Just a bit sore," I said, gently massaging my shoulder.

"That last group was a little intense, huh? Asking about the painter's inspiration and all that-even though you clearly said you only restored it."

I chuckled softly. "Happens all the time. You know how it is-people who love art always want to dig into its backstory before they buy anything."

"You're right."

I went quiet again, just playing with the glass in my hand.

Kira must've noticed, because she gently touched my arm. "You look really uneasy, Rhea. Did something happen? Did one of the guests make you uncomfortable?"

I turned to her. I almost told her that I'd seen something strange. That the famous guy standing in front of the painting made my heart race in a way I didn't understand. That afterward, my thoughts went completely haywire. But of course, I couldn't say any of that to Kira. I just gave her a small smile instead.

"No, Kira. I'm fine. I just need some fresh air. You know I'm not used to being in crowded places. That's why I'm drained."

She nodded understandingly. "Take a break and recharge. I'll keep an eye on things here."

I nodded and quickly left the main hall, walking down a narrow hallway toward the storage room. It was quieter there. No music, no eyes on me. Just the sound of my own breathing.

I sat down and leaned against the wall, trying to calm the racing beat of my heart. I closed my eyes, but the moment darkness settled in, I found myself thinking about Kaelan's gaze-and... that scent. The scent that, for some reason, felt so warm yet also gave me goosebumps.

Then, I heard footsteps behind me. I turned instinctively, like I was expecting someone.

And damn it, I was hoping it was Kaelan.

I let out a deep sigh. It was just a gallery staff member passing by with a box of catalogs. And when I realized that, I suddenly felt... disappointed.

Why would I feel disappointed? Kaelan and I don't even know each other.

"What's happening to me...?" I whispered, shaking my head a little.

I've never believed in anything metaphysical. I believe in art. In time. In restoration through clear, measurable techniques. Those things are real to me.

But tonight... it felt like I was being pulled into something I couldn't explain.

That painting. That man. That feeling. And... that scent.

***

After I calmed down a bit, I returned to the main hall. Most of the guests had already left. Just a few people lingered near the buffet or took photos to capture the moment.

I looked at the Moon Painting once more. I stood close enough to see the details of the mist spreading across the canvas edges. That scent... came back... faint, but still there.

"Looks like the guests are starting to leave," I said to Kira and Lina.

The two women, who had been standing near an abstract painting by a famous Spanish artist, came over to me. "Yeah," Kira replied.

Lina nodded too. "I think Kaelan's already gone."

"That hockey player?"

Lina nodded again. "Yep."

Kira turned to me, as if remembering something. "Oh... right, I almost forgot. He actually came up to me earlier."

"Did he want to buy a painting?" Lina asked.

Kira shook her head. "Nope. The painting stuff was already handled by his manager. He came to me for something else."

"What kind of something?" Lina asked, confused.

Kira looked back at me-her gaze more intense now. "He asked for your phone number, Rhea."

"Mine? Why?" I asked, equally confused.

"He said there was something important he wanted to talk to you about-something to do with the painting's restoration. So... I gave it to him."

Right after Kira said that, my phone buzzed. A message from an unknown number.

[No Name]

No Name: We're not done yet, Miss Hale.

-K

I stared at the screen for a long time before even thinking about replying or closing it. My heart had already started pounding again.

I didn't know who he really was. Or what that message meant.

But for the first time... I wanted to find out.

And that was the scariest part of all.

***