The air was thick with tension in the dimly lit underground hideout, where the rogues had gathered in secret. The place was damp and cold, the stone walls dripping with moisture, making the atmosphere oppressive. The rogues, outcasts from the werewolf society, had been forced to live in the shadows, scraping by with whatever they could find. They were the lowest of the low, shunned and despised by even the weakest members of the werewolf hierarchy. But now, after years of suffering and indignity, they had had enough. Their leader, a grizzled and scarred wolf named Gregor, stood before them, his voice a low growl as he addressed the gathered rogues. His eyes glowed with a mix of fury and desperation, emotions that had been simmering for years, now ready to boil over. “We’ve been pushed around for too long,” Gregor snarled, his voice echoing through the hideout. “We’ve been treated like dirt, like we’re less than nothing. Alpha Vlad an
Mikhail's phone buzzed on the marble countertop of his hotel room, the screen lighting up with the name *Demon*. He answered quickly, his voice low and serious. "Demon, what's the situation?" Mikhail asked, pacing the room, knowing the gravity of the call.Demon’s voice, deep and steady, came through the line. “The rogues are planning an unexpected attack on the Feral Fury Pack. They’ve learned that Alpha Vladimir isn’t in his position, and they see this as their chance to strike. You and Lucifer need to book the next flight back to Russia before it’s too late.”Mikhail’s heart sank. He had been waiting for this moment to break through to Lucifer, but now everything seemed to be slipping out of control. “Understood. I’ll inform him right away. We’ll be on the next flight out.”As Mikhail hung up, he turned to find Lucifer standing by the window, his back tense as he stared out at the city below. The once proud and powerful man seemed smaller
ONE WEEK LATER.....The atmosphere in the throne room was thick with tension, the air practically crackling with unspoken anger and grief. Lucifer sat at the head of the long table, his knuckles white as he gripped the arms of his chair, his eyes burning with a cold, steely fury. His usually sharp, calculating demeanor was replaced with an icy rage that made everyone in the room tread carefully.Around him sat Mikhail, Luna Loveth, tried to keep the group grounded, though the worry lines on her face betrayed her own anxieties. Demon sat with his arms crossed, his expression grim. The pack elders, normally stoic and composed, fidgeted in their seats, sensing the storm that was about to break.“They came in the night, like cowards,” one of the elders spoke up, his voice trembling with anger. “Twenty of our youths—innocent children—slaughtered in their sleep. Girls who had never known anything but the safety of our pack, taken from us in the most brutal
Lucifer's mother's words echoed faintly in his mind, a whisper against the backdrop of his seething rage. As he surveyed the carnage around him, he knew the war was far from over. The taste of blood and the scent of gunpowder lingered in the air, a reminder of the brutal reality of his world—a world where mercy was a luxury he could no longer afford.Luciano approached, limping slightly, but his eyes were sharp and alert. He wiped a streak of blood from his face, his expression grim. “We got lucky tonight,” he said, his voice rough from exertion. “If you hadn’t shown up when you did…”Lucifer cut him off with a sharp look. “There’s no room for luck in this game, Luciano. We make our own luck.” His voice was cold, devoid of the camaraderie they usually shared. “Next time, we won’t be caught off guard. We’ll be the ones setting the trap.”Mikhail spoke up as he holstered his gun. “We need to regroup. Gather intel on who sent these men. This wasn’t a random attack—it was too organized, t
The SUV rolled to a stop in front of a grand, yet inviting home nestled in one of Moscow’s quieter neighborhoods. The lights from the windows spilled out warmly into the night, offering a stark contrast to the cold darkness that surrounded them. Katya’s home was a beautiful blend of traditional Russian architecture and modern comforts, a reflection of the family’s deep roots and contemporary success.As they stepped out of the vehicle, Katya’s husband, Dmitri, appeared at the front door, his face lighting up as he saw his wife and her brother approaching with their family.“Welcome, welcome!” Dmitri called out in a rich, warm voice as he descended the steps to greet them. He was a tall man with broad shoulders and a kind smile, the kind of man who put people at ease the moment they met him. In his arms, he carried a small boy with a mop of dark hair, who looked at the newcomers with wide, curious eyes.“Dmitri!” Aiden greeted him with enthusiasm, s
April felt a gentle shake on her shoulder, but exhaustion weighed heavily on her, and she struggled to open her eyes. She groaned softly, burying her face deeper into the pillow, clinging to the last vestiges of sleep.“April,” Aiden’s voice came, soft yet firm. “Wake up. We’re really late for our appointment with the agent.”Her eyes shot open at his words, and she bolted upright in bed, blinking the sleep away. “Oh no, what time is it?” she exclaimed, panic settling in. She quickly glanced around, disoriented by the unfamiliar room before she remembered they were at Katya’s house.Aiden, already fully dressed in a smart casual outfit, leaned against the doorframe with an amused smile. “It’s past nine. I’ve been trying to wake you up for the last ten minutes.”April pouted like a child, her lips forming a little frown. “Why didn’t you wake me up sooner?” she whined, rubbing her eyes with her fists. “You know I’m not a morning person.” Aiden chuckled, enjoyin
Aiden maneuvered through the bustling streets, his hands steady on the wheel while April dialed the agent's number, seeking directions. Her voice was calm, but a subtle tremor of anxiety underlined her words. The agent, named Marcus, quickly provided the details, guiding them toward the location of their new company.When they arrived, April’s eyes widened with joy. Aiden smiled, sharing in her excitement as they took in the sight of the sleek, modern building—their new venture. The possibilities seemed endless, and for a moment, April allowed herself to feel genuine happiness.Marcus was already waiting for them outside, a broad smile on his face as he approached. "Congratulations, Mr. Gorbachev, Ms. April," he said, extending a hand. "It’s all been approved by the government, but there’s just one small matter to finalize."April’s smile faded slightly. "What do you mean, ‘one small matter’?"Marcus cleared his throat, sensing her apprehension. "Half of the plot of land still technic
April stood in the parking lot, her eyes fixed on her phone screen, but her mind was miles away. She kept replaying the encounter with Lucifer in her head—the way his eyes had burned with anger and something else she couldn’t quite place. She shook her head, trying to dispel the dark thoughts that clouded her mind. She was too tired, too emotionally drained to dwell on him any longer.As she lifted her gaze from her phone, she caught sight of a little girl running toward her, laughing joyfully. The girl was looking over her shoulder, her attention completely focused on something behind her, and April’s eyes widened in alarm. “Hey, watch out!” she called out instinctively.But it was too late. The little girl bumped right into her, spilling her ice cream all over April’s shoes. April looked down at the sticky mess, momentarily taken aback, before the girl’s frantic voice brought her back to the present.“Oh no! I’m so sorry!” the girl exclaimed, her face scrunching up in distress as sh