Lahat ng Kabanata ng Claimed by the Ice Captain: Kabanata 1 - Kabanata 10

Five a.m. was an ungodly hour for anyone, but for a professional athlete, it was a sacred ritual. The ice was empty, the air crisp and cold, smelling of Zamboni fluid and potential. It was my church. Until today.Today, my church had been desecrated by a six-foot-three devil with a god complex."Again!" Jax's voice boomed across the rink, echoing in the cavernous space. "You're skating like you've got a piano tied to your ass, Valdez!"I gritted my teeth, forcing my burning legs into another punishing sprint from one end of the rink to the other. This was the tenth drill in a row. The tenth time he'd singled me out, pushing me harder than anyone else. The rest of the team watched from the benches, a mixture of pity and relief on their faces. Better me than them.I glided to a stop, my chest heaving, plumes of white fog escaping my lips. "Sorry, Captain," I panted, letting just enough sarcasm bleed into my tone to be noticeable but not insubordinate. "I must have left my piano in my ot

His kiss was not a kiss. It was a branding. It was brutal and punishing, a crushing pressure of lips and teeth that was designed to overwhelm, to conquer. There was no gentleness, no request for permission. It was an act of pure, unadulterated possession. Jax's hand fisted in my hair, tilting my head back at an angle that was both painful and submissive, forcing me to take whatever he wanted to give. My mind screamed in protest, but my body, the traitorous, starved thing it was, betrayed me. The moment his tongue forced its way into my mouth, a jolt of pure electricity shot through me. It was a primal, biological response to an Alpha's claim, a deep-seated instinct that had been suppressed for years and was now roaring to life. A soft, helpless whimper escaped my throat, a sound of surrender that only seemed to spur him on. He tasted of mint and dominance, and the scent of him—the clean, wild scent of a winter forest—filled my lungs, making my head swim. The weight of him on top o

The next morning, the ache in my body was a dull, persistent reminder of my new reality. But it was the cold, calculating look in Jax's eyes during practice that truly haunted me. He was a machine, pushing the team with a brutal efficiency that bordered on sadistic. He never singled me out again, never touched me. His control was absolute, his focus on the game so complete that I almost believed the weight room had been a fever dream.Almost.After practice, as we were all filing into the locker room, he stopped me with a simple, quiet command. "Valdez. A word."The other players shot me curious looks, but no one questioned their captain. I waited until the room had mostly cleared, my heart a steady, cold drum against my ribs. I expected another private confrontation, another whispered threat in the shadows.Instead, he said, "Team dinner tonight. O'Malley's. Seven o'clock. Be there."It wasn't a request. It was an order. And it was the last place on earth I wanted to be."I have plan

The week on the ice was a masterclass in subtext. Our silent agreement transformed us. We were a unit, a two-man hive mind operating at a frequency no one else could intercept. I became his ghost, his wildcard. In a game against the Rangers, he was being shadowed by their top defender, a brute known for shutting down offensive players. Mid-play, I caught Jax's eye. He gave a microscopic dip of his chin towards the net. I understood instantly. I feinted as if to take the puck from him, drawing the defender with me. At the last second, Jax fired the puck not towards me, but into the empty space I'd created for him to skate into. He scored. The crowd went wild. To everyone else, it was a moment of individual brilliance from the captain. To us, it was a coded conversation, a victory earned in a shared, silent language.He kept his side of the bargain perfectly. On the ice, I was his star player. Off the ice, his silence was the new form of control. He didn't summon me. He didn't text. He

The quietness in my apartment was deafening after Jax dropped me off. He hadn't tried to come in. He hadn't needed to. The entire ride had been a masterclass in quiet control. He'd played music, a low, thrumming bass that vibrated through the car's frame and into my bones, a constant, physical reminder of his presence. He didn't speak, and the silence was more intimidating than any threat.I walked into my dark living room and sank onto the couch, not even bothering to turn on the lights. My body ached from the hit, but it was the ache in my mind that was unbearable. I replayed the moment on the ice, over and over. The weight of him, the proprietary grip on my neck, the low growl in my ear. He hadn't just protected me. He had marked me. And a sick, shameful part of me had thrilled to it.That was the problem. My body was a traitor, responding to his dominant Alpha presence with a primal urge to submit that warred with my rational mind's desperate need to fight. I couldn't win a physic