Semua Bab The Hockey Alpha Dangerous Claimed : Bab 1 - Bab 10

I came home early because Daniel texted that he missed me.That was the only reason. Practice had ended thirty minutes ahead of schedule, Coach waved us off with a rare smile, and I still had sweat drying on the back of my neck when I pulled into the driveway. The porch light was on. Mom’s car sat in its usual spot. Daniel’s black truck was parked behind it, crooked, like he’d been in a hurry.I smiled. Stupid, soft little smile that still lived in my chest even after three years of dating him. I left my bag in the car and went inside without making a sound, already planning the way I’d sneak up behind him and press my cold hands to his stomach just to hear him swear.The house smelled like her perfume. The expensive one she only wore on special nights. It mixed with something warmer, heavier, and for a second I thought she must have cooked. Then I heard the sound.A low, broken moan. Male. Familiar.My hand froze on the banister.Another sound followed. Softer. Female. The kind of so

The next morning the sky looked like it had been scraped raw.I left the hostel while the corridors were still dark and the only sound was the low hum of the vending machines. My bag felt heavier than it should have. Everything did. Even the air. I walked the long route again, past the maintenance sheds and the empty visitor lot, because the shorter path still carried the shape of Daniel waiting for me.The rink lights were already on.I pushed through the side door and the cold hit me clean across the face. I welcomed it. Inside, the ice stretched out under the harsh white lights like something that had never been touched by lies. I laced my skates in the empty locker room, the only noise the soft creak of leather and the distant drip of melting snow from someone’s boots left near the heaters.When I stepped onto the ice I expected to be alone.I wasn’t.Damian was already there, moving through a set of tight figure-eights at the far end, stick handling a puck with the kind of precis

Morning light came in thin and gray through the hostel curtains. I woke already knowing my body had changed.Every shift of my legs sent a deep, low ache through the center of me. The bruises on my hips had darkened overnight into perfect fingerprints. When I sat up the pull of muscle across my shoulders reminded me of the exact angle at which he had held me against the glass. I stayed still for a long time, staring at the opposite wall, and let the hate settle into something solid and useful.I showered in water so hot it bordered on pain. Soap did nothing to erase the memory of his mouth or the way he had forced pleasure out of me like it belonged to him. I dressed carefully—high-waisted leggings that hid the worst of the marks, a long-sleeved team shirt, hoodie zipped to the throat. Armor again. Different kind.The walk to the rink felt longer than usual. Snow from the night before had frozen into a thin crust that cracked under my boots. I kept my head down and my pace steady. Ins

The bruises had started to yellow at the edges by the third morning, but the memory under them stayed black.I woke with the sheets twisted around my legs and the phantom weight of his body still pressed along my back. For a long minute I didn’t move. I just lay there listening to the thin winter light push against the curtains and catalogued every place that still ached. The deep pull between my hips. The faint tenderness where his teeth had marked my shoulder. The way my pulse seemed to live lower now, as if it had relocated to the exact center of what he had taken.Hate was supposed to be clean. This wasn’t. This sat in my chest like wet ash—heavy, smeared, impossible to scrape out.I showered longer than necessary, water hot enough to redden the skin, and dressed in layers that hid everything. High neck. Long sleeves. Leggings that sat above the worst of the fingerprints. Armor had become ritual. I left the hostel before the corridors filled and took the longest route to the rink

Night settled over the campus like a held breath.I sat on the narrow windowsill of the hostel room with my knees drawn up and the glass cold against my shoulder, watching the snow thicken under the yellow courtyard lights. The bruises on my hips had faded to dull shadows, but the places deeper than skin still burned whenever I shifted. Four days. Four days since he had taken me against the glass and then ordered me to leave like the act itself had been nothing more than a temporary failure of control.I still felt him.That was the part I could not scrub out. Not with scalding water. Not with longer hours on the ice. Not with the clean, sharp hatred I kept trying to rebuild every morning. My body remembered the exact stretch of him, the ruthless depth, the broken sound that had left his throat when he finished inside me. And somewhere beneath the hate a quieter, more dangerous thing had begun to grow—an awareness that the man who had done it was still watching me like the claim had n