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Hunted Luna Becomes The Hockey Brothers Possession Novel Cover

Hunted Luna Becomes The Hockey Brothers Possession

After her pack is brutally slaughtered, Elara flees for her life, only to be intercepted by a trio of powerful alpha brothers who dominate the local hockey scene. These siblings claim her not just as their mate, but as their shared property. Trapped in their high-stakes world, she must navigate a intense bond while her past threats loom. Elara is forced to choose between her freedom and the overwhelming protection of her new possessors.
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Chapter 3

Cole's POV

The cold from the rink hits the back of my neck as I skate across the ice, the sound of blades cutting sharp against the surface. Practice has been Cole's POV

The cold from the rink hits the back of my neck as I skate across the ice, the sound of blades cutting sharp against the surface. Practice has been going for an hour, and we’re already drenched in sweat.

Knox is at the goal, calm and cold as usual, blocking shot after shot like a machine. Nolan keeps circling, trying to distract him with that smug grin he never loses while Finn is beside me, too loud, too competitive, the same as always.

I pull back, line up and send the puck flying. It hits the top corner, just brushing Knox’s glove. He doesn’t react and just stares at me with those gray eyes like I barely exist.

“Still emotionless, huh?” I call out, skating closer. “You’d think one goal would piss you off.”

Knox doesn’t answer. He never does. He just leans down, grabs the puck, and sends it back my way with a flick that makes my wrist sting when I catch it.

Finn laughs behind me. “He’s waiting for you to actually *score*, Cole.”

I roll my eyes. “I did score. He just doesn’t like acknowledging talent.”

“Right,” Nolan mutters as he glides past, spinning the stick in his hand. “Talent, arrogance—same thing with you.”

I grin. “At least I have both.”

We’ve been like this since we could walk. Competing, arguing, pushing each other until something breaks. It’s what makes us the best. People talk about us like we’re a rumor and ghosts on the ice. The Hyacinth Brothers. No one ever sees our faces, no one ever interviews us. They just see the records we break and the trophies we collect.

And that’s how we like it.

I slow down, circling to the side of the rink where Finn’s adjusting his gloves. “So,” I start, wiping sweat off my face with my sleeve, “I heard something interesting this morning.”

Finn looks up. “What?”

“The new coach Rosabelle is bringing.”

Nolan skates over, already curious. “Rose is really hiring again?”

“Yeah.” I shrug. “Heard it’s a woman this time.”

Finn snorts. “A woman? You’re kidding right?”

“Nope. Straight from the staff meeting,” I say. “Rose really knows how to gamble with us”

Finn smirks, leaning on his stick. “She wouldn’t last a week. You’d think Rose would learn we don’t need anyone bossing us around.”

Nolan chuckles under his breath. “She probably just wants to prove we can take orders. Which we can’t.”

I tilt my head. “Maybe she just wants to see if anyone can survive us more than the ones we've drove out.”

Finn grins wide. “Or maybe she’s hoping she’ll find one of us interesting.”

“Not happening,” Knox says quietly from the goal, voice deep and steady.

We all turn to him. He’s standing there, expression blank like the conversation bores him.

I skate closer. “Come on, little brother. You’re not curious who she is?”

“No,” he says flatly, sending the puck flying toward the wall.

Finn sighs. “Godd, you're so....always so cold.”

Nolan laughs. “He’s not cold, just focused.”

I raise a brow. “Focused on what? Glowering the rest of his life?”

Knox ignores me. He’s already back in position.

Finn shakes his head. “I’m giving her three days before she quits.”

“Bo Two,” Nolan laughs.

“One,” I counter it.

“Bet?”

I grin. “Always.”

We keep skating, pushing harder, moving faster. Every pass is perfect. Every shot has precision. This is what we were built for. No one outside this rink knows the truth, but every move we make carries the control we learned from hiding what we are.

We are werewolves. Four of us. Brothers bound by blood and that one secret.

To the world, we’re just players that are untouchable, unbeatable. But under the skin, there’s more. Every hit of the puck, every shift of our bodies, hides the strength that no human should have. We’ve learned to hold back, to make it look human enough not to raise questions.

I love the sound of the ice under me. It’s clean, sharp, real. The only place that quiets the noise in my head.

Finn crashes into Nolan, trying to steal the puck. Nolan pushes back, their sticks clashing. Knox catches the rebound and passes it cleanly toward me, and I take the shot. Straight through the gap.

Goal!

Finn groans. “You’re lucky, Cole.”

I laugh. “I’m always lucky.”

We’re still laughing when the air changes. It’s not something normal people would notice, but we’re not normal. The connection hums under my skin before it happens.

A voice slips through the mindlink that ties us to Rosabelle.

[ *You all should come pick her up at the airport. She’ll begin training soon.*]

Then she cuts off. No emotion, no explanation. Just orders.

Finn sighs. “She’s serious about this coach thing, really serious.”

Nolan skates to the edge, grabs his bag. “Guess we’re chauffeurs now.”

I shrug, grabbing my jacket from the bench. “Perhaps, it could be fun.”

Knox’s voice is calm but firm. “We’re wasting time.”

We leave the rink immediately , the cold replaced by the dry air of the arena hallway. Our assistant nods as we pass, but no one dares stop us. Outside, the cars are waiting—black SUVs lined up like soldiers.

I take the driver’s seat. Finn claims shotgun beside me, Nolan slides into the back and Knox takes the far corner, silent as usual.

The drive is quiet at first, the hum of the road filling the space.

Finn scrolls through his phone. “So, any guesses who this mystery coach is?”

“No idea,” I say. “But if Rose picked her, she’s either brave or stupid.”

Nolan chuckles. “Probably both.”

“Maybe she’s one of those motivational types,” Finn says. “You know, the ones that talk too much and think yelling fixes everything.”

“Won’t last,” Knox mutters, staring out of the window.

“You keep saying that,” I reply. “One of these days, you’ll have to give someone a chance.” I say

But he doesn’t answer.

We reach the airport within minutes. The city looks the same as always busy, bright and too loud. We pull up to the private terminal, step out, and wait near the entrance. The cold air bites, but it feels good against my skin.

Then something shifts inside me It’s subtle at first, a scent, warm and unfamiliar, drifting on the wind and then stronger.

My chest tightens as I glance at my brothers. Nolan’s posture changes instantly. Finn freezes mid-step. Knox’s hand burls into a fist.

We all look at each other at the same time.

“MATE,” we say together.

The word vibrates in the air, raw and instinctive.

Finn’s eyes flash briefly gold before he blinks it away. Nolan looks like he’s trying not to grin.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I mutter.

Knox’s voice is low. “She’s close, I can feel it.”

We turn toward the terminal just as the automatic doors slide open.

A woman steps out, slow and unsure, her hair pulled back, dressed simple but sharp. She doesn’t look like a coach. She looks like someone who’s been through hell and came back colder.

For a moment, none of us move.

Finn whistles under his breath. “Well, damn.”

Nolan’s tone drops lower. “Didn’t expect that.”

Knox says nothing. His eyes are fixed on her blankly.

I can’t stop staring. There’s something in her face that's familiar, something that pulls me in. I don’t know her, but I feel her.

Rosabelle steps out behind her, phone in hand. She spots us and nods once. “Boys,” she says. “Meet your new coach.”

for an hour, and we’re already drenched in sweat.

Knox is at the goal, calm and cold as usual, blocking shot after shot like a machine. Nolan keeps circling, trying to distract him with that smug grin he never loses while Finn is beside me, too loud, too competitive, the same as always.

I pull back, line up and send the puck flying. It hits the top corner, just brushing Knox’s glove. He doesn’t react and just stares at me with those gray eyes like I barely exist.

“Still emotionless, huh?” I call out, skating closer. “You’d think one goal would piss you off.”

Knox doesn’t answer. He never does. He just leans down, grabs the puck, and sends it back my way with a flick that makes my wrist sting when I catch it.

Finn laughs behind me. “He’s waiting for you to actually *score*, Cole.”

I roll my eyes. “I did score. He just doesn’t like acknowledging talent.”

“Right,” Nolan mutters as he glides past, spinning the stick in his hand. “Talent, arrogance—same thing with you.”

I grin. “At least I have both.”

We’ve been like this since we could walk. Competing, arguing, pushing each other until something breaks. It’s what makes us the best. People talk about us like we’re a rumor and ghosts on the ice. The Hyacinth Brothers. No one ever sees our faces, no one ever interviews us. They just see the records we break and the trophies we collect.

And that’s how we like it.

I slow down, circling to the side of the rink where Finn’s adjusting his gloves. “So,” I start, wiping sweat off my face with my sleeve, “I heard something interesting this morning.”

Finn looks up. “What?”

“The new coach Rosabelle is bringing.”

Nolan skates over, already curious. “Rose is really hiring again?”

“Yeah.” I shrug. “Heard it’s a woman this time.”

Finn snorts. “A woman? You’re kidding right?”

“Nope. Straight from the staff meeting,” I say. “Rose really knows how to gamble with us”

Finn smirks, leaning on his stick. “She wouldn’t last a week. You’d think Rose would learn we don’t need anyone bossing us around.”

Nolan chuckles under his breath. “She probably just wants to prove we can take orders. Which we can’t.”

I tilt my head. “Maybe she just wants to see if anyone can survive us more than the ones we've drove out.”

Finn grins wide. “Or maybe she’s hoping she’ll find one of us interesting.”

“Not happening,” Knox says quietly from the goal, voice deep and steady.

We all turn to him. He’s standing there, expression blank like the conversation bores him.

I skate closer. “Come on, little brother. You’re not curious who she is?”

“No,” he says flatly, sending the puck flying toward the wall.

Finn sighs. “Godd, you're so....always so cold.”

Nolan laughs. “He’s not cold, just focused.”

I raise a brow. “Focused on what? Glowering the rest of his life?”

Knox ignores me. He’s already back in position.

Finn shakes his head. “I’m giving her three days before she quits.”

“Bo Two,” Nolan laughs.

“One,” I counter it.

“Bet?”

I grin. “Always.”

We keep skating, pushing harder, moving faster. Every pass is perfect. Every shot has precision. This is what we were built for. No one outside this rink knows the truth, but every move we make carries the control we learned from hiding what we are.

We are werewolves. Four of us. Brothers bound by blood and that one secret.

To the world, we’re just players that are untouchable, unbeatable. But under the skin, there’s more. Every hit of the puck, every shift of our bodies, hides the strength that no human should have. We’ve learned to hold back, to make it look human enough not to raise questions.

I love the sound of the ice under me. It’s clean, sharp, real. The only place that quiets the noise in my head.

Finn crashes into Nolan, trying to steal the puck. Nolan pushes back, their sticks clashing. Knox catches the rebound and passes it cleanly toward me, and I take the shot. Straight through the gap.

Goal!

Finn groans. “You’re lucky, Cole.”

I laugh. “I’m always lucky.”

We’re still laughing when the air changes. It’s not something normal people would notice, but we’re not normal. The connection hums under my skin before it happens.

A voice slips through the mindlink that ties us to Rosabelle.

[ *You all should come pick her up at the airport. She’ll begin training soon.*]

Then she cuts off. No emotion, no explanation. Just orders.

Finn sighs. “She’s serious about this coach thing, really serious.”

Nolan skates to the edge, grabs his bag. “Guess we’re chauffeurs now.”

I shrug, grabbing my jacket from the bench. “Perhaps, it could be fun.”

Knox’s voice is calm but firm. “We’re wasting time.”

We leave the rink immediately , the cold replaced by the dry air of the arena hallway. Our assistant nods as we pass, but no one dares stop us. Outside, the cars are waiting—black SUVs lined up like soldiers.

I take the driver’s seat. Finn claims shotgun beside me, Nolan slides into the back and Knox takes the far corner, silent as usual.

The drive is quiet at first, the hum of the road filling the space.

Finn scrolls through his phone. “So, any guesses who this mystery coach is?”

“No idea,” I say. “But if Rose picked her, she’s either brave or stupid.”

Nolan chuckles. “Probably both.”

“Maybe she’s one of those motivational types,” Finn says. “You know, the ones that talk too much and think yelling fixes everything.”

“Won’t last,” Knox mutters, staring out of the window.

“You keep saying that,” I reply. “One of these days, you’ll have to give someone a chance.” I say

But he doesn’t answer.

We reach the airport within minutes. The city looks the same as always busy, bright and too loud. We pull up to the private terminal, step out, and wait near the entrance. The cold air bites, but it feels good against my skin.

Then something shifts inside me It’s subtle at first, a scent, warm and unfamiliar, drifting on the wind and then stronger.

My chest tightens as I glance at my brothers. Nolan’s posture changes instantly. Finn freezes mid-step. Knox’s hand burls into a fist.

We all look at each other at the same time.

“MATE,” we say together.

The word vibrates in the air, raw and instinctive.

Finn’s eyes flash briefly gold before he blinks it away. Nolan looks like he’s trying not to grin.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I mutter.

Knox’s voice is low. “She’s close, I can feel it.”

We turn toward the terminal just as the automatic doors slide open.

A woman steps out, slow and unsure, her hair pulled back, dressed simple but sharp. She doesn’t look like a coach. She looks like someone who’s been through hell and came back colder.

For a moment, none of us move.

Finn whistles under his breath. “Well, damn.”

Nolan’s tone drops lower. “Didn’t expect that.”

Knox says nothing. His eyes are fixed on her blankly.

I can’t stop staring. There’s something in her face that's familiar, something that pulls me in. I don’t know her, but I feel her.

Rosabelle steps out behind her, phone in hand. She spots us and nods once. “Boys,” she says. “Meet your new coach.”

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