Captain Hook Killian Novels & Stories

"Don't just defend. Destroy the ships. If they have no bridge, they have no way back to the South." Killian looked at me, and for the first time in five years, we were in total, breathtaking sync. The Alpha and his Luna. The Doctor and her King. He saw the fire in my eyes and realized that the girl he had rejected was the only one capable of leading him through this hell. "With pleasure, my Queen," he roared. Killian shifted into a full, massive charcoal wolf—a beast so large he seemed to swallow the morning light. He sprinted across the glass, a blur of shadow and silver, heading straight for the lead ship’s anchor line.

he ended with another shout. “YES SIR.” Mr. Anderson responded with a salute. And with that, the Chief stomped away from the room with his other subordinate officers. As he stepped out, the five detectives let out a big sigh. They were literally holding their breath up until now, especially after how he just then poured his rage on JEAN, fearing what if the sound of their breathing somehow upsets their Chief and bring forth his another display of wrath. “What the hell is his problem? Why the hell is he so pissed on us? Did Dr. Killer killed his secret lover or something?” mumbled Kate as she got back to her computer.

"Deploy the secondary war-galleys. Hunt them through the reefs while the water is still hot." Killian let out a dark, low growl of pure, bloodthirsty satisfaction, vaulting down from the lookout tower to land directly behind me. He didn't wait for the vanguard to deploy before his hands locked around the front of my tunic, pulling my back hard against his bare, scarred chest with a terrifying display of raw Alpha strength.

When I reached the door, I took a deep breath and knocked three times. “Come in,” a familiar voice called from inside. I opened the door and stepped in. Sitting across from Principal Hargrove was a ridiculously hot guy with dark, slightly tousled hair and striking dark green eyes. I recognized him instantly. Sebastian Hale. Westfield’s captain. The one who had dismantled Hawthorne’s offense on Friday night and smiled at me afterward like he actually saw me.

He didn't realize the wig was in this fatal position once he kept the punctured tire in the hood before closing it. "You kids made me panic for nothing." The officer laughs as he speaks, finding the whole thing hilarious. "I made myself panicked." Killian says to himself through gritted teeth, promising himself to kill Oliver for keeping the wig here. His soul almost left his body! "What are you guys doing here at this hour by the way?" The cop asks, being serious and suspicious. "Oh, I'm a huge nature lover! You see, I heard a lot about the Asscrick cliff. Just like its name, its beauty is extraordinary." Killian informs the cop while glaring at Sebastian with suggestive eyes.

The chief looks serious. The chief glanced around. Keep this quiet for now. But your captain is right. This was deliberate. Professional. Not a prank. Kade took the metal from me and turned it over. His eyes went dark. I know this type. Used in tight operations back home. Burns everything. Fast. No evidence left usually. They meant to kill. The young winger joined us breathing quick. Kill? Us? Who would do that? We are just hockey players. The big defenseman came next. This is Vance and his people. Has to be. The party was bringing us together. They hate that.

“No. He was too weak to hurt me.” I frowned. “Does it mean… you fought him?” A smug smirk appeared. “He was no match for me.” I resisted rolling my eyes as other worries surfaced. “Did you hand him to the police?” His smirk vanished, giving way to a wry grimace. “Well, that was the issue I needed to handle more delicately.” For some reason, his words raised hairs on my forearms. “What do you mean?” Killian sighed and lowered his head. “He killed himself to avoid interrogation.”

"Killian, they know your position. Lucian sent the coordinates of the Leviathan to the Russian Mafia before he died. You’re in danger." "To hell with the ship! To hell with Russia!" Killian growled, his voice rising an octave. "Only you matter right now. You and the child. If you don't land in thirty minutes, I’ll fly out to get you myself in a gunship, even if I have to fly through a blizzard." I closed my eyes for a moment, feeling the intensity of the man through his voice alone. Killian never asked; he demanded. He didn't love like a normal man; he consumed. And in the midst of this chaos, his obsession was the only thing that felt real.

“Oh, for the love of Captain Hammer’s nipples. Yes, that’s all. We met for coffee. We talked. I played the whole ‘wanting to get to know you’ game. He was . . . nice enough. I guess.” “Nice enough? Well fuck me in the ass with a splintery wooden spoon and call me Sally Struthers . . . Sarah Killian, you little goodie-girl, you like this guy, don’t you?” “Will you please not use my fucking real name while we are on assignment? And no, I do not like Duke Anderson. He’s a low-life hillbilly hick who I wouldn’t even give a passing glance to if it weren’t for this damn mission.”

His pale eyes glinted with venom. “Confess your biggest sin. Then I’ll decide whether to tell you or not.” Killian’s voice was deep and steady, but his gaze could kill. Cedric’s brows furrowed, confusion flickering in his eyes before he scoffed weakly, “I did nothing, you–” A sharp kick to his chest cut him off mid-sentence. Killian leaned forward, voice dripping with venom. “Hana Salvatore.” The name froze the air. Killian’s eyes darkened like a storm. His jaw tightened and he hissed, “Does that name sound familiar?”