Rejected By My Hockey Alpha のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 141 - チャプター 150

Penelope's POVWe spent the morning running through the woods, doing combat drills on uneven ground. It's harder than training in a gym, which is probably good. The challenge fight won't be on nice flat mats."Your footwork needs work on rough terrain," I tell Timothy after he trips for the third time."I'm tired," he snaps, then immediately, "Sorry, I didn't mean""It's okay," I say. "You're frustrated. I get it.""Everything keeps going wrong," Timothy says. He sits on a fallen log. "Every time we make progress, something else happens. The equipment, the threats, my mother still locked up. It's like the universe is working against us.""Not the universe," I say, sitting beside him. "Just your father. And he's desperate, which means he's scared.""He doesn't seem scared," Timothy says."He's terrified," I counter. "Think about it. He sabotaged your training because he's worried you might actually win. If he was confident, he'd let you train properly and beat you anyway."Timothy cons

Timothy's POVOne week left until the challenge, and I'm finally starting to feel ready.My body has adapted to the brutal training schedule. The footwork Penelope taught me is becoming instinct. The strategic thinking, the deception, the willingness to fight dirty, it's all coming together."You're faster," Ethan says during our morning session. "Much faster than three weeks ago.""Fast enough?" I ask."Maybe," Ethan says. "We'll see."Penelope arrives at noon with lunch. Her parents moved into the mansion three days ago, and having them here has been good. The house feels less empty, more like an actual home."How's Selene?" Penelope asks as we eat."Better," I say. "She's being discharged tomorrow. Jake's taking her to his family's place upstate, away from all this.""Smart," Penelope says. "Your father can't threaten her if he doesn't know where she is.""That's the idea," I agree.My phone rings. It's Elena Frost."Timothy, we have a problem," she says when I answer."What now?"

Timothy pov "Stay here," I say, getting out of bed. My wolf is already rising, sensing danger."Like hell," Penelope says. She grabs a lamp as a weapon.We move to the door together. I can hear shouting downstairs, footsteps running. The alarm is still blaring, piercing and loud.I open the door carefully and look out. The hallway is empty but I can smell smoke."Fire," I say. "Someone set a fire.""My parents," Penelope says, her face going pale.We run down the hallway to their room. Marina and her father are already coming out, coughing."What's happening?" Marina asks."Someone broke in," I say. "Stay together, we're getting out."We head for the stairs. Smoke is rising from below, thick and dark. I can see flames in the living room."Back door," I say. "Through the kitchen."We reverse direction, heading for the back stairs. That's when I see him.A man in black, standing at the end of the hallway. He's holding something, a bottle with a rag in it."Get back," I shout, pushing e

Penelope pov “I’ve got you,” he says against my skin. “I’m right here.”He slides my panties down my legs, fingers brushing the insides of my thighs until I’m trembling. Then he settles between them, the weight of him perfect. I feel him hard against me, hot and heavy. He rubs the head of his cock through my wetness, once, twice, coating himself.“Look at me, Penelope,” he whispers.I do, as he pushes in slow- so slow I feel every inch stretching me open. My breath catches; it’s almost too much.“Oh… oh god,” I cry out, soft and broken. He’s so deep it feels like he’s touching my heart.He stills, buried to the hilt, forehead pressed to mine.“You feel that?” he murmurs. “That’s me loving you. All of me inside all of you.”I nod, tears slipping into my hair. “Don’t stop. Please don’t stop.”He starts to move. Long, slow strokes that drag over every sensitive place inside me. Each thrust is deliberate, like he’s trying to brand himself into my soul. My legs wrap around his waist, heel

Timothy pov I keep moving, staying just out of reach. Every time he lunges, I dodge. Every time he overextends, I dart in for a quick strike.Bite his leg. Slash his side. Small wounds, but they add up. Death by a thousand cuts.He's breathing harder now, his tongue lolling. His movements are getting slower, more predictable.Good, Penelope's voice echoes in my memory. Patience wins fights. Not rage.Ten minutes in, my father is bleeding from a dozen places. His beautiful fur is matted with blood and dirt.But I'm not much better. My shoulder is torn open. Two ribs are definitely cracked, cuts cover my body.We're both tired. Both hurt. But only one of us is desperate.You can't keep this up forever, my father pants through the link. Eventually you'll make a mistake.Maybe, I agree. But you'll make one first.He snarls and comes at me again. Slower this time, more careful.We clash in the center of the circle. Snapping jaws, scrambling paws, fighting for position. His greater mass dr