All Chapters of Claimed by the Rogue Brother: Chapter 1 - Chapter 8

The Northern Star was a giant ship. It was covered in millions of Christmas lights that sparkled on the dark, cold water. To the people on board, it was a dream vacation. To me, it was supposed to be the start of my new life. I stood in front of the mirror in the hallway of my room. I fixed my silver nightgown. My heart was beating fast. Today had been perfect. I had just married Julian, the handsome future leader of the Crescent Peak pack. "Mrs. Vailant," I whispered. The name felt strange, but I tried to be happy. My family is the Silver-Bane line. We are an old and famous family, but we have lost our power. This marriage was supposed to fix everything. I walked to the door of our bedroom. I had left the party early because I had a headache. I wanted to surprise Julian with candles and a romantic room. I reached for the door handle, but then I heard a sound. It was laughter. I froze. I knew that laugh. It belonged to Chloe. She was my maid of honor. She was my best friend. We

Lucian’s suite was unlike the one I had shared with Julian for a few hours of my marriage. Julian’s room was filled with gold, white flowers, and soft silk. It was like a birdcage made for a pet. Lucian’s room was dark. It smelled of old wood, heavy leather, and the cold Arctic air. It felt like a wolf’s den dangerous, solid, and real. He sat me down in the middle of the large rug. I was still wearing his heavy leather jacket over my thin nightgown. I felt small, but for the first time in years, I didn’t faint. I looked out the large glass windows. Outside, icebergs floated like giant ghosts in the dark water. The ship was moving fast now, thrashing against the waves. "You should sleep," Lucian said. He walked over to a small bar and poured himself a glass of dark liquid. He didn't look at me. "The sun will be up in a few hours. When it does, the High Alpha will call the Elders. They will want to see us together. They will want to tear us apart." "How can I sleep?" I asked. My vo

The lower decks of the ship were a tomb of rusted steel. Up above, the ship was a palace of glass and gold, but down here in "The Forge," the air was thick with the smell of hot oil and old exhaust. I stood at the edge of the motorcycle bay, shivering as red emergency lights flickered on and off. Every time the ship hit a sheet of ice, the floor groaned beneath my feet. "The Hunters are coming," I said again. My voice sounded small in the massive room. Sloane did not move. She was the leader of Lucian’s bikers, a woman built of muscle and scars. She held a hunting knife that caught the red light like a drop of blood. Behind her, five other riders stepped out of the shadows. They did not look like the polite guards from my wedding. They looked like predators. "I don't care about the Hunters, Princess," Sloane spat. Her voice was rough, like sandpaper on wood. "And I don't care about your lier husband. My only job is to keep this pack alive. Lucian thinks you are special,

Forge was no longer a workshop; it was a suffocating metal box. The piercing Arctic water rose to our waists, its glacial touch turning my legs into numb pillars of stone. Above, the emergency lights failed, leaving only the murky red pulse of manual alarms. The air was a viscous mix of salt, ozone, and the metallic tang of blood. The environment felt alive, a malicious force trying to crush the life out of us. The ship didn't just feel like it was sinking; it felt like it was inhaling the ocean, pulling the weight of the deep into our lungs. "Lucian! Behind you!" My voice was a hollow rasp. The Silver-Hunter materialized from the clinging shadows like a ghost. He stood on a floating equipment crate, his silver-tipped harpoon aimed at Lucian’s spine. The Hunter’s eyes were hidden behind void-like goggles, reflecting the rhythmic, bloody blink of the alarm. Lucian had no time to turn. He was still straining against the sliding bulkhead that threatened to crush Sloane and the ot