Captain Vane Novels & Stories

Lana smiled at me before walking out of the room. I picked up my phone as I got out of the I*******m page of Cole Donovan, second-year student and the hockey captain of the school and also a member of the Blackwood Boys. The Blackwood Boys were three best friends, and that consisted of Cole, Zane, and Nolan. These boys were known for their charm, their good looks, and also how wealthy they were considering that they came from good backgrounds, and it was rumoured that their parents had shares in the school, but amongst all of them, the least you would want to get involved with was Cole.

"They wanted us to find it." "They wanted us to chase a ghost," I whispered, standing up from the stool. "They wanted us looking at the guards, looking at the lords, looking at each other, while the real message did what it was supposed to do." Before Kian could answer, the heavy wooden door of the strategy room creaked open. Captain Vane stepped inside, his face pale, holding a second piece of parchment in his gloved hand. He looked shaken, not angry, but genuinely unnerved.

VANE The gates of the border outpost groaned as my soldiers pulled them open, allowing my advance column to ride into the primary fortification zone. The border captain was already waiting at the bottom of the wooden watchtower. He rushed toward my stallion, stepping past the line of mounted guards with an eager expression on his face. He bowed low, his chest heaving under his scuffed iron breastplate. "Alpha Vane!" the captain called out, straightening his back. "Thank the Goddess you have arrived. I am Captain Kael. We have been holding the line here at the valley crossing, but the pressure is unrelenting."

"You want the other part." "Yes." "I have never moved that fast in my life," he repeated, quieter now, each word deliberate, stripping away every ounce of his usual arrogant captain swagger. "Because there was nothing left in me that could have let them take you. Nothing rational. Nothing careful. Just five years of pretending you were an enemy, breaking apart in about four seconds flat." My throat worked overtime, desperately searching for a witty comeback that wouldn't make me sound like a teenager reading a diary. "You're supposed to be my enemy."

I turned slowly, dread pooling in the pit of my stomach. Oh God… no. Victor Kane, captain of the hockey team until my brother joined, stood a few feet away. His hockey gear was half-off, sweat clung to his neck, and that lazy, knowing smile was carved onto his face like he'd just discovered something appetizing. I've known Victor Kane as long as I've come to this school and started watching my brother practice, and I knew one thing for sure. Victor Kane hated my brother. His eyes slowly and deliberately flicked from Rowan to me before settling back on Rowan.

“The goddess and her shadow. I must admit, I did not expect you to use the Web as a footpath. It shows a certain… lack of imagination, but a great deal of raw power.” ​High Admiral Vane stepped into the light. He was not the monster I had pictured. He was an older man, his hair a pristine white, his eyes covered by a pair of dark, multi-lensed goggles. He wore a simple, charcoal-colored suit, but his right arm was a masterpiece of clockwork engineering—a tangle of brass pistons and silver wires that moved with a frightening, fluid precision. ​“You are destroying the world to power a clock,” I said, my hand moving to the hilt of my blade. “Do you have any idea what you have done to the East?

"Faster. Talk to me while you do it. Tell me why you really got traded here." Kade leaned down, breath mixing with mine. "Owner pulled strings. Vance wanted me close to you. Easy target for the syndicate. But I flipped it. Got close to you for info. Then I could not stay away." His grip tightened just right. "You like hearing the truth while I touch you?" "Yeah," I gasped. "Do not sugarcoat it. Did you laugh about it? Fucking the captain while plotting against his family?"

" Before I could answer, the heavy frosted-glass doors of the master pavilion slid open. Vane stepped out onto the terrace. The closing sunlight caught the sharp, flawless lines of his structured jaw, highlighting the striking touch of silver at his temples and the immense, mature breadth of his shoulders. He had unbuttoned the collar of his black linen shirt, looking completely at ease, yet the terrifying, absolute authority that defined his every movement was more intense than ever. At thirty-eight, he didn't just command room gravity; he commanded the horizon. His dark, piercing eyes swept across the patio, instantly bypassing the breathtaking ocean view and locking onto me with a fierce,

I had become the owner of the North after I left the eastern wing, which had served as my prison. The moment of triumph was abruptly interrupted by the ground-shaking sound of two-footed steps. The sea of kneeling wolves nervously parted as Vane, the towering, eight-foot Lycan commander, approached the execution block. He was covered in the blood of Thorne’s enforcers, his dark, matted fur bristling in the morning wind. He ignored both the army and my three Alpha mates. Vane dropped to one knee before me, his massive, clawed fist resting over his heart.