Captain Wolfoo Novels & Stories

"You are not your father, Jaxson. You didn't do this. He abandoned you, and now he's trying to use you to clean up his bloody mess, but we are going to burn his empire to the ground. Together. Do you hear me?" Jaxson let out a ragged, broken exhale, burying his face deeper into my neck as his massive arms wrapped around my waist, holding me so tight it bruised, anchoring himself to my heartbeat like I was the only solid thing left in the world. He pressed a desperate, lingering kiss to my collarbone, his stubble scraping against my sensitive skin, before he finally pulled back, wiping his face with the back of his hand. The vulnerable, broken boy vanished, and the cold, calculating captain s

“That’s exactly why I didn’t push harder when you stonewalled the board. A kid willing to torch his own reputation to protect a teammate is exactly the kind of captain I want leading this team into a championship. I just wish you’d trusted me enough to let me help you do it smarter.” Luca didn’t know what to say to that. He looked back toward the boathouse instead, where a single light glowed through the window Isabella’s silhouette, still sitting close to Marco, patient and steady in a way that had nothing to do with contracts or cameras. “She’s not what I expected,” Harrelson said, following his gaze. “No,” Luca agreed quietly. “She’s not.” “You going to do something about that, or just ke

Still hollering, he scrambles to his feet, backing out the door with his left hand gripping the wound on his right arm. “What the hell is going on here?!” the man I now know is Captain Elias hollers, sprinting down the hallway half-dressed. He catches a glimpse of Kordaway’s wound, and a knowing look comes to his eyes. “What the fuck have you done, Kordaway?” he demands. “I done nothin’,” Kordaway insists. “The bitch is crazy!” “You will not speak to one of my crew members with disrespect,” he hollers.

"What rumours?" The captain hesitated. Then finally said quietly, “That the Demon Wolf has returned.” The tavern became silent again. I slowly looked at Derek. His expression did not change. But something dangerous flickered behind his red eyes. The captain immediately added, “I’m not saying I believe it!” Derek said nothing. He simply turned and walked back toward the stairs. I hurried after him quickly. The moment we entered the room upstairs again, I shut the door behind us hard. My chest was rising too fast. “That man,” I whispered. “How did he do that?”

“Like he said, they were waiting for us. The area was riddled with traps, wolfsbane bombs and silver spikes.” A captain stepped forward, his gaze downcast. “They captured a few of us, my king.” This was far worse. The hunters would torture them. It would have been better had they been killed. “They won’t talk, my king. My soldiers would rather die than give out information,” the captain reassured me. “The only information I want Saul to know is that his daughter is now my mate and a werewolf.” I glared at my commander. “I expect all of you to be ready in the hour, and I want a full layout of their headquarters.”

It was still not moving but was clearly still breathing. I rushed up to it and saw the blood gushing out of its neck. I felt a hand on my shoulder. "Luna." I turned to see that it was Captain Park with a neutral expression on her face. "We'll take care of this. Right now you need to come with us." I stared at the Wolf a second longer. My mind was filled with questions. Why was a Van Cliffe Wolf in Woodfell? And why had it come for me?

First day on the job and I’m hauling my camera bag through the arena tunnels, heart hammering because this was supposed to be my break through. I had studied this team like the palm of my hand. I spotted him right away. Riven Holt. Captain. Star forward. The guy everyone talked about like he was some kind of hockey god. Tall, built like he could break someone in half without trying, dark hair messy from practice, jaw set like he was permanently pissed off. He was barking orders at some rookies near the bench, voice sharp enough to cut glass. “New girl,” he called out when he noticed me standing there fiddling with my lens. “You the photographer? Let’s see what you got from warm-ups.”

RAVAGERS WOLVES IN 3 DAYS. The pain in my head sharpened into a cold, lethal clarity. Harold hadn't just cheated, he’d lied about the game date to keep me away from the hotel. I scrolled down to the poster for the opposing team, the Ravagers Wolves. Standing front and center was the Wolves' Captain, Horace. He was Harold’s cousin and his most hated rival. He looked like a god of destruction, broad shoulders stretching his jersey, a jawline like granite, and icy blue eyes that promised no mercy.

Oliver stood under the hot, white spotlight. The bright light burned his eyes. He stared at the tall man holding his hand. The truth hit him like a heavy, cold rock. Alexander Whitman. The famous hockey captain. The man who fucked him so hard in the hotel pool. He was actually a Montgomery. He was the son of the enemy. Oliver pulled his hand back. He pulled very hard. Alexander’s fingers were strong, but Oliver ripped his hand away. The skin on Oliver’s wrist burned red from the tight grip.