Captain Ice Cookie Run Novels & Stories

I headed straight toward the one place where the truth always seemed to hide: the Westbridge Athletic Complex. The main arena smelled of chilled vapor, damp wool, wax, and the sharp, metallic tang of scraped ice. I stood near the frosted glass of the visitor entrance, watching the varsity team run through late-afternoon power plays. Damon moved across the rink differently than anyone else. He was fluid, powerful, terrifyingly fast—a storm in black-and-gold armor. When he took a pass from the blue line, he didn't hesitate. He snapped a wrist shot into the top corner of the net so hard the black puck rattled violently inside the twine.

Callahan has Kordaway by his good arm and shoves him down the hallway. Meanwhile, I stand here in wolf form, wanting nothing more than to clean myself up and get the taste of that man’s blood out of my mouth. “May I have a moment with my assistant?” Cookie asks the captain calmly. “Yes,” the captain answers. “All you men, get back to your cots. Maybe I can get a couple of hours of fucking sleep now!” Everyone filters out of the hallway almost as fast as they’d appeared, and Cookie walks into my room. “Are you hurt?” he asks.

I was on the bridge near the Captain and behind me I heard the lead tech guys say, “We’re past the usual checkpoint. No signs of activity, engine heat, or anything. It’s quiet.” The Captain looked to the CIA stooge in charge who now sported a smile that was about a mile wide. The man gave me the absolute creeps. “Well, now, looks like our intel was right! Their defense system is down. All right, Captain take us in.” In? In where? The Captain gave orders for more speed and to my consternation, we headed straight for the imposing icy landmass that lay ahead. Surely the plan wasn’t to run aground! What appeared to be thick ice, though broke easily apart and looking over the side, I beheld that

he replied. "So, we'll be taking my private plane and will be at our destination at exactly 1600 hours. Hop on!" he told Isabella. She was shocked to see the superior side of the Captain. He was like giving commands to his troops. "That's what you say to your co-soldiers?" she asked while giggling. "What co-soldiers? There is no such thing." he laughed at her chosen words. "Well basically yes, but I'm more stiffed and I shout most of the time when talking to them. They can't see this soft side of me. It's only for you!" Carter was very naughty. He loves teasing Isabella.

Then, there is a shift in the air. The moon begins to ascend into the sky, climbing higher and higher signalling the time is near. Co-ordinators of The Run – mated wolves whose job is to keep us safe – climb onto the cages keeping the problem females captive. They are waiting for the gun shot to release us. Thankfully, the wind is blowing softly from behind us. I could not get any luckier with nature on my side. With my scent blowing away from the males and deep into the forest, I will be able to get away quickly and find a hiding spot that hopefully has gear or food for me to take. With a grin, I slowly climb to my feet and lazily stretch, preparing my body to run because my life depends on

I rolled my eyes and was about to walk him through the power points of a backhand flick when my hand slipped and hit the sticker beside it. A "Peppa Pig bawling her eyes out" sticker went through. My stomach dropped. It was a sticker I used all the time on my main account, totally at odds with the cold, ruthless tactics-genius image of IceTyrant. The other end went silent for a full minute. "Master... did you get hacked?" I quickly hit unsend. "My cat stepped on it." "So even a legend like you keeps a cat! That's adorable! I'm buying you the best cat treats money can buy and shipping them tomorrow!"

"You think because your name is in the papers, you can dictate terms in my rink?" From the bench, the captain let out a cruel, mocking laugh, stepping forward. "Oh, come on, Coach Vance. Let the superstar play. Let’s see if the 'Ice Queen' can actually handle real hockey, or if she’s just all media hype. Let her make a complete fool of herself."

Afterwards, his hands were tied and he was made to drop downwards. There was no ceiling to which the ropes could have been tied. It was all powers. Beneath him was a fire that heated his body. The cold liquid they had rubbed on his body took a deep effect as he felt his skin start burning all of a sudden and that was what propounded his scream. He was shocked and couldn't keep it in any longer. The witch queen, Calisa finally made her grand appearance at the torture party. She scanned Simon's naked dropping body before finally taking her seat in front of him and a bit away from the scene. A lady wearing a black gown with long black painted nails strolled towards Calisa.

Sandra: Oh! You're a marine! That's so manly. But isn't it dangerous? Victor: Not really. It’s more paperwork than anything else. We’re on the sea most of the time, avoiding enemy waters, so it’s pretty chill. Sandra: That made you ten times more attractive to me. It’s funny, but I feel like you hold an important position, too. Victor: Yeah. I’m the captain. Sandra: That makes so much sense. You looked like you were the boss of something in your pictures. Are you a good captain, though? Take good care of your men?

"What did you say, you little..." "Enough." One word. Low, deep, and commanding. It stopped James in his tracks. The team captain walked in. Alexander Whitman, as the public knew him was a giant. He was six-foot-four of pure muscle, with jet-black hair and grey eyes that looked like storm clouds. He was the "Ice King," the man who never lost. He was also, Oliver noted privately, extremely hot. Alexander didn't look at Oliver. He looked at James. "Coach is waiting. Get your gear."