All Chapters of Frozen Knot: Rivals Claim: Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

Chapter 11Aftershocks, Part TwoJax made it home in record time.He parked crooked in his spot, killed the engine, and sat there with his hands still gripping the wheel until his knuckles ached white. The league office felt like it had carved a hole in his chest—every word from Torres and Hargrove replayed on loop: *monitoring interactions*, *medical disclosure*, *if there’s more to this story…*He slammed the car door hard enough to rattle the frame.Up the elevator. Down the hall. Key in the lock. Inside.The apartment still smelled like them—like last night. Pine and smoke tangled with his own too-sweet heat scent. The sheets were still rumpled. The towel from the bathroom floor hadn’t been picked up. Evidence everywhere.Jax kicked the door shut behind him. Locked it. Leaned his forehead against the wood for a second.Then the aftershock hit.It wasn’t as brutal as before—no tsunami, no collapsing on tile—but it was deeper. A slow, rolling wave that started low in his belly and s

Chapter 13 Restless Jax didn’t sleep. He tried everything short of knocking himself out. Lay flat on his back staring at the slow spin of the ceiling fan until the blades blurred into a gray disc. Rolled onto his side, knees pulled up, arms wrapped tight around his middle like that could hold the ache in place. Flipped onto his stomach, face buried in the pillow that still carried Ronan’s scent—pine, smoke, leather, dominance. Pressed his hips down into the mattress once, twice, chasing friction that never quite satisfied. Nothing worked. The aftershock wasn’t dramatic like the full heat waves. No collapsing, no desperate sobs, no frantic fingers inside himself until he came dry. It was quieter. Meaner. A constant, low-grade simmer that lived under his skin like a second heartbeat. His gland throbbed in slow, lazy pulses—hot, swollen, begging for teeth that weren’t there. Slick leaked steadily, warm and slippery, soaking through his boxers and into the sheet beneath him. Every ti

Chapter 15 Ronan's Edge Ronan Kane didn't do mornings like this. He woke with the alarm—5:45 a.m., sharp and unforgiving—then lay there for exactly thirty seconds staring at the plain white ceiling of his high-rise apartment. No lingering in bed. No replaying the night before. Just up, feet on cold hardwood, body moving on autopilot to the bathroom. Shower. Scalding hot. Soap scrubbed until his skin was raw. He washed Jax's scent off layer by layer—honey-cedar sweetness, slick, sweat, the faint musk of release. Watched it swirl down the drain. Told himself it was gone. It wasn't. The aftershock hit him in the steam-filled mirror—low, insistent, a throb at the base of his knot that made him grip the sink until his knuckles blanched. His ruff prickled. Instincts whispered *go back*, *protect*, *claim*, even though Jax was miles away in his own apartment, probably cursing Ronan's name. Ronan breathed through it. In. Out. Slow. Controlled. He wasn't his father. He wouldn't

Chapter 17 Locker Room EchoesJax made it to the locker room before the aftershock could drop him in the tunnel.He pushed through the door, breath ragged, stick clattering against the frame. The room was mostly empty—most of the team already gone, a few stragglers taping ankles or scrolling phones. No one looked up long enough to notice the flush on his cheeks or the way his thighs pressed together with every step.He dropped onto the bench in front of his stall. Hands shaking as he unlaced his skates. The gear felt too tight, too hot, too everything. Slick had soaked through layers; he could feel it cooling against his skin, sticky and humiliating.He yanked the jersey over his head. Base layer clung wetly to his chest. He peeled it off too—slow, careful, trying not to make it obvious he was trembling.Tyler Voss was still there, two stalls down. The rookie glanced over.“You alright, Harls?” Tyler asked again. Same question as before practice. Same frown. “You’ve been weird all mo

Chapter 19 CrackJax drove home with both windows down, even though the cold bit through his hoodie and made his teeth ache. He told himself the fresh air would clear Ronan’s scent from his lungs. It didn’t. Pine and smoke clung to his skin like smoke after a fire faint, stubborn, impossible to shake.The aftershock waited until he hit the highway.It started as a flutter low in his belly innocent, almost. Then it bloomed. Slow. Rolling. A deep, grinding cramp that spread outward until his thighs trembled against the seat and his grip on the wheel turned white-knuckled. Slick leaked sudden and hot, soaking the fresh sweats he’d changed into after practice. He clenched his jaw so hard his molars ached.“Fuck,” he breathed. The word fogged the windshield.He pulled over at the next exit ramp empty gas station lot, flickering neon sign, no one around. Killed the engine. Dropped his forehead to the wheel.Breathed.In. Out.Tried to think of anything else tomorrow’s optional skate, the