All Chapters of Claimed by the wolves.: Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

Juliette’s POV The sun hadn’t risen yet when I forced myself out of bed. My body still tingled from the dream, from the touch that wasn’t real but somehow felt sharper than reality. My fingers shook as I picked up my phone, staring at the messages that had invaded my sleep. The words lingered in my mind like a warning I couldn’t shake: “He is not who you think he is.” I paced across my room, the hardwood cold beneath my bare feet. Every shadow in the corner of the room looked like it could move, could speak. My pulse was still erratic, like it had a mind of its own, and my thoughts kept circling back to Bryan and Dorian—their voices, their touches, the way they made me feel like I was simultaneously burning and freezing. It didn’t make sense. None of it did. Dorian had kissed me and then run, acting like it meant nothing. And Bryan… Bryan had looked at me with something I couldn’t quite name—jealousy? Possession? Desire? All I knew was that the intensity of his gaze had burned it

Juliette’s POVThe morning was already buzzing with activity when I arrived at the arena. The cold air stung my skin, making me shiver, but it was nothing compared to the storm churning inside me. Dorian. Bryan. Their names repeated in my mind like a chant I couldn’t escape. Every time I thought I had a handle on my emotions, they twisted again, sharper, more dangerous.I tried to focus on my job, walking past the players and carrying my kit like armor. Every familiar clatter of skates and sticks felt muted under the rush of adrenaline that never seemed to leave me. I hated it. I hated the way my chest tightened when Bryan’s gaze landed on me, the subtle flash of possessiveness he tried to hide, the way Dorian’s quiet intensity could cut straight through me without a single word.I bent over a row of skates, adjusting laces and taping blades with meticulous care. My hands moved automatically, but my mind was elsewhere, stuck between two men who were impossible to ignore. I felt their

Juliette’s POVThe sun was barely a smear of gold on the horizon when I forced myself out of bed, though sleep had been a fleeting illusion. My body felt restless, a mix of tension and heat I couldn’t shake. The dream from the previous night lingered like a phantom, the memory of Dorian’s touch and Bryan’s gaze wrapped around me like a vice. My fingers trembled as I grabbed my phone, expecting the familiar pang of anxiety that came every time I remembered the text messages: “He is not who you think he is.”I paced my small apartment, the wooden floor cold under my bare feet, each step echoing in the quiet space. Shadows seemed to stretch longer than they should, curling in corners, dancing across the walls. My pulse thudded erratically, stubbornly refusing to calm down. Both Dorian and Bryan haunted my mind in ways I could neither name nor control.I ran my hands through my hair, tugging at it nervously, and whispered to myself, “Get it together, Mercer.” But my voice felt hollow, lik

Juliette’s POV The arena was unusually quiet that evening. The usual echo of pucks striking the boards and skates carving ice was replaced by a tense hush, as if the building itself knew something was off. My fingers shook as I pulled my bag tighter to my chest, my eyes darting to every shadow that stretched across the rink. The messages from the unknown number had multiplied, each one colder than the last: "Do not trust the obvious. Not him. Not yet. He is a wolf in disguise." "He can’t protect you forever. Run if you want to survive. They’re coming." Every step toward the locker room felt heavier than the last. My heart thumped violently against my ribs, threatening to burst free. Dorian was already on the ice, mask on, stretching, his movements precise but cautious, like a predator feeling for danger. Bryan stood near the benches, clipboard in hand, radiating the kind of quiet authority that made me want to crumble and cling to him at the same time. I tried to focus on s

Juliette’s POVThe rink was eerily quiet that morning, the kind of silence that set your nerves on edge. I felt it immediately the second I stepped inside, the cold air pressing against my skin, the faint smell of ice and sweat lingering from last night’s practice. My kit bag felt unusually heavy on my shoulder, as if it carried the weight of my thoughts, my anxiety, and every secret I was trying to hide.I wasn’t sure how long I had been pacing in the hallway before I finally steeled myself and opened the locker room door. The team was already warming up, the rhythmic slap of skates on the ice echoing through the cavernous space. My heartbeat jumped in time with the sound. Every glance from a player felt like it lingered a second too long, every whisper seemed pointed, every shadow suspicious.Bryan was there, as always, sharp, commanding, moving with that silent dominance that had somehow carved a permanent place in my chest. His eyes flicked to me once, then again, catching me befo