How could I have forgotten?I sit on the floor of my room, my knees pulled up to my chest, my fingers trembling as they grip the fabric of my robe. The sun is beginning to set, casting shadows across the walls, but I don’t move. I can’t. My heart is racing, my thoughts spiralling out of control. I feel disgusted with myself—sick to my core—because for a moment, just a fleeting, shameful moment, I forgot what Ruslan did.I forgot that he killed Andrei.How did I let that slip away? How did a few lingering stares and awkward, almost playful conversations make me lose sight of the fact that this man—the same man who’s been circling my thoughts, pulling me in with the bond—destroyed my world?My body trembles as I try to catch my breath, but it’s no use. The panic is rising, swallowing me whole. The bond, this cursed bond, is making me weak. It’s clouding everything. Making me forget that the man I’m starting to look at differently is a killer. A murderer.How could I be so stupid?I’ve
Since the kiss, I’ve been avoiding Katya like the damn plague. Every time I see her, every time I feel the bond pull between us, all I can think about is her screaming at me, blaming me for destroying her life.I can feel the tension between us every time we’re in the same room, but I don’t make eye contact, don’t give her any reason to start another conversation.The bond between us is still there, humming in the background, but I’ve gotten good at ignoring it. At least, I try to. After that kiss, though? It’s been harder. The way she kissed me back, like she was just as lost in the pull of it as I was—it’s all I can think about. And I hate it.Because I shouldn’t be feeling anything for her.She forgot. She forgot that I killed Andrei. She blamed me for ruining her life, for tearing it apart, and the worst part is she doesn’t even know the whole truth.She doesn’t know what Andrei did to my life. Doesn’t know that her beloved husband shattered my world before I ever laid a hand on h
I can’t stop thinking about what Ruslan said.The words keep replaying in my head over and over again: You think I destroyed your life, but you have no idea what your precious husband did to mine. You don’t even know the fucking half of it.What did Andrei do? What could he have done to Ruslan that was so horrible that it shattered his life? Ruslan killed him. My husband is dead because of him, and yet... I can’t shake the feeling that there’s more to this story. That maybe I don’t know the truth.But Ruslan won’t tell me. He could have. He should have thrown it in my face, made me pay for every accusation I’ve hurled at him since we’ve been trapped in this cabin together. Instead, he held back, refusing to say anything because he didn’t want to hurt me.Imagine that. He didn’t want to hurt me.I’ve done nothing but accuse him, call him a murderer, accuse him of being heartless, cruel, and everything else I could think of. But now, I can’t help but wonder if what Andrei did to him is
It’s late — too late, and I haven’t slept. The clock on the wall reads just past 3 a.m. but time hasn’t meant much to me in hours. I’ve been lying here, staring at the ceiling, my mind running in circles since the argument with Katya. It’s all I can think about — her tear-streaked face, the pain in her eyes when she realised the truth about Andrei. I thought telling her might give me some kind of release, some closure, but instead, all I feel is empty.I didn’t want to hurt her. I never wanted this.But I did hurt her, and now I can feel her pain through the bond. It’s a steady, dull ache that won’t go away, and the worst part is knowing that I caused it. I shattered her world, just like mine was shattered all those years ago. I turn over in bed, pressing the heels of my palms against my eyes, trying to block out the memories, the guilt. But it doesn’t help. Nothing does. All I can think about is the look on her face when she heard the truth, how it broke something in her. And the b
The first thing I notice when I wake up is the warmth. It’s comforting, steady, and it makes me want to bury myself deeper into it. I wake slowly, my mind groggy, the warmth of sleep still clinging to me. For a moment, I don’t remember where I am, but then I feel it—him. His arm is wrapped around me, his chest rising and falling steadily beneath my cheek. My eyes snap open, and I stiffen, realising I’m still in Ruslan’s arms.What the hell am I doing?The memories from last night come rushing back in a flood — me, walking into his room, crawling into his bed, needing comfort ... and him giving it to me. No questions, no pushing. Just his arms around me, holding me while I broke down. I can’t believe I did this. I can’t believe I wanted his comfort.I stay still for a long moment, hoping he’s still asleep, afraid to move, afraid to face the reality of what this all means. Slowly, I peer up at him. His eyes are closed, his face relaxed in sleep, and for the first time, I see him witho
As soon as Katya walks out of my bedroom, I let out a long sigh and lay back against the pillows. What the hell is going to happen now? We’ve crossed some line, I’m sure of it, but I have no idea where it leaves us. Am I still the man she wants executed? The one responsible for destroying her world? Or am I something else to her now?The bond between us has shifted. I felt it last night, in the way she came to me, seeking comfort, and I gave in, holding her like she needed. But that doesn’t change the fact that I’m still the man who killed her husband, no matter what he did.I rub my hand over my face, frustrated. I can’t keep thinking like this. There’s no point in trying to figure out where we stand because it’s too messy, too complicated. I get out of bed, throwing on a pair of sweatpants and heading to the kitchen. I need to clear my head, and if there’s one thing that’s always helped me think, it’s cooking. My sisters used to love pancakes—Mina and Mila would beg me to make th
Hello, everyone!Thank you so much for reading, I appreciate every single commet and gem
The cabin is too quiet. Too still. I’ve spent most of the day avoiding Ruslan, not saying much, barely even looking at him. But it doesn’t help. His presence fills every corner of this place, and I can’t ignore him no matter how hard I try.He’s everywhere.Even now, as I lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling, my thoughts keep drifting back to him. It’s maddening, how aware I am of him. I can feel him, feel the weight of the bond between us, and no matter what I do, I can’t shake it.I roll onto my side, pulling the blanket tighter around me, but the thoughts won’t stop. His face flashes in my mind, and it’s like I can still see him standing in the kitchen earlier today, flipping pancakes like it was the most normal thing in the world. But it wasn’t. Nothing about him is normal. The scars on his chest, the roughness in his voice, the way he moves with this quiet, deadly power. Ruslan is a real Alpha—one who’s fought, who’s led his pack, one who’s had everything ripped away from him.A
I wake with a jolt, my eyes snapping open to the darkened room as a sharp, urgent voice echoes through my mind link.“Ruslan! We’ve got movement on the southern border. It’s not a drill!”It’s Anatoly. The edge in his tone cuts through the lingering fog of sleep like a blade. I’m already sitting up, swinging my legs over the side of the bed, instincts kicking in before thought catches up.Katya stirs beside me, her soft breathing breaking with a groggy whisper. “Ruslan? What’s wrong?”“Go back to sleep,” I mutter, my voice low but steady, reaching for the sweats I left on the chair. “It’s nothing.”She doesn’t believe me—of course she doesn’t—but I don’t stick around to argue. I press a kiss to her forehead and head straight for the door, pulling a shirt over my head as I go.By the time I’m outside, the chill of the early morning air slaps me awake completely. The packhouse is still mostly quiet, the sun not yet breaking the horizon, but I can hear it now—distant howls, the sharp bar
I pause at the front steps of the pup center, staring at the worn wood of the door like it might swing open and swallow me whole. The knot in my stomach twists tighter, and I have to swallow down the anxiety that rises with it.I shouldn’t feel this way. I’m not the one who did anything wrong. And yet, as I stand here, I can already feel the weight of what’s waiting for me on the other side of that door.I take a breath—deep and steady—before pushing it open and stepping inside.The noise hits me first, as it always does: the sound of children laughing, playing, and the faint scurry of tiny footsteps across the floor. It’s the one thing about this place that never changes, no matter how tense the air might be.But it’s different today.The women notice me immediately. Their conversations die mid-sentence. The air shifts, thick and stifling. They don’t stare outright—no, that would take a backbone they clearly don’t have. Instead, they look past me, around me, through me, like I’m noth
I sit on the edge of the coffee table, my elbows resting on my knees, staring at Katya as she holds Milanya close to her chest. It’s quiet, save for the soft crackle of the fire, but the weight of everything I need to say hangs between us.Katya hasn’t pushed me away—not yet—but I see the guarded look in her eyes, the way she holds herself a little too still, like she’s bracing for something. It guts me more than I want to admit.I rub a hand over my face, dragging in a deep breath before I finally speak. “I need to apologize.”Her eyes flick up to meet mine, wary. “For what?”“You know what,” I say, my voice low. “For the other night. For yelling. For losing my damn temper and scaring you—and her.” I nod toward Milanya, who’s still sleeping soundly against her.Katya’s gaze softens just slightly, but she doesn’t let me off that easily. “Ruslan... it wasn’t just yelling. You were angry.”I nod, shame curling in my gut like a fist. “I was. And that’s on me. I shouldn’t have let it happ
I’m halfway to the pup center before I even realize I’ve left the cabin. My boots slam against the frozen ground, every step fueled by the burning rage twisting through my chest.Katya didn’t say much when I came home—she didn’t have to. The moment I walked in and saw her sitting on the couch, staring at nothing with that look in her eyes, I knew. Someone had hurt her. Again.And this time, I wasn’t going to let it slide.The moment I storm into the pup center, the air shifts. I can feel their gazes snap toward me—startled, wide-eyed, nervous. It’s too quiet, and that silence only pisses me off more.The door slams shut behind me with a loud thud, and I don’t stop moving until I’m standing dead center, my boots scraping against the wooden floor. Pups stop playing, their little heads snapping up, and the women standing nearby freeze in place. I scan the room, my eyes sharp and cold, locking on every single one of them as I step inside.“Which one of you did it?” My voice cuts through t
The morning sun filters through the kitchen window, casting warm light across the table where Milanya is bundled in her bassinet. I stare at my cup of tea, my stomach too knotted to eat anything. The quiet of the cabin is heavy—too heavy—and the ache in my chest from last night still hasn’t eased.I can still hear Ruslan’s voice in my head, loud and furious. The look on his face, the fear in Milanya’s cries... It’s been looping in my mind all night, keeping me awake.I exhale, rubbing at my temple. It was a fight. That’s all. We were both exhausted. Stressed. He didn’t mean to lose control like that, and I didn’t mean to push him so hard. But knowing that doesn’t make it easier to shake the weight of it off.I glance at Milanya, her tiny face so peaceful in sleep, and I swallow down the guilt. At least she won’t remember any of this.The clock ticks on the wall, far too loud, and I know I can’t stay here. Sitting around this cabin all day with my thoughts circling like vultures would
The moment I step over the threshold of the packhouse, I know something’s wrong. The air feels off—too quiet, too still. The kind of quiet that makes my instincts spike, every hair on the back of my neck rising like a warning.“Katya?” I call, my voice echoing through the cabin. I don’t smell her. I don’t hear her.Nothing.I drop the bag slung over my shoulder and stalk into the living room, scanning every corner. Empty. The kitchen’s the same—pristine, untouched, like no one’s been here all day. My heart kicks into overdrive, and I shove open the door to Milanya’s room, the crib waiting silently, taunting me.Where the fuck are my family?My chest tightens. The bond, usually a hum in the back of my mind, is quiet. I reach for her through it, focusing hard, trying to feel her presence, her emotions—anything—but there’s nothing. It’s like screaming into a void.“Katya!” I shout, my voice bouncing off the walls as I tear through the cabin, checking every damn room again even though I
It’s been nearly a month since everything settled into something close to routine, and yet here I am, staring at the empty space on Ruslan’s side of the bed again. The sheets are cold, meaning he left hours ago. Probably before dawn. It’s been like this for weeks—him disappearing early, coming back late, exhausted, and barely saying more than a few words before collapsing into bed.I press my palm against the spot where he slept, feeling the faint traces of his warmth before sighing and rolling onto my back. The faint light of dawn creeps through the curtains, but I don’t want to get up yet. Not when the ache of frustration has been sitting in my chest for days now, growing stronger with every quiet night and every hurried morning.I know why he’s been busier lately. The solstice is approaching, and everyone in the pack has been on edge. It’s a time of heightened energy, of potential attacks, of old traditions that make the pack restless and wary. But knowing why doesn’t make it an
I stand in front of the mirror, fussing with the sleeves of my dress, trying to ignore the nerves that coil tighter and tighter in my stomach. It’s a soft blue—Ruslan’s suggestion, because he said it matched my eyes—but the color doesn’t do much to calm me. My reflection stares back at me, pale and anxious, but all I can think about is Milanya.Today is her blessing. Today she’ll be presented to the pack, and everyone will see her for the first time. Everyone.A soft noise from the crib pulls my attention. I turn and see her lying there, her tiny fists curling up near her face as she sleeps. My chest tightens. She’s so small, so perfect, and the thought of anyone looking at her the wrong way—of anyone even getting too close—makes my blood boil.She’s mine.The bond hums softly between Ruslan and me, like it always does when I feel something this strongly. I sense him before I hear him, his steady footsteps approaching.“You’re going to burn a hole in the floor pacing like that,” Rusl
The hallway is quiet as I step out of the room, leaving Katya and our daughter asleep. The soft sounds of their breathing trail after me, steadying the chaos in my chest as I close the door behind me. For a moment, I lean back against the wood, exhaling heavily. They’re safe. They’re mine. But the weight of everything still presses down like a goddamn anvil.I head toward Anatoly’s office, my feet carrying me on autopilot. The packhouse is mostly silent at this hour, the kind of stillness that comes after a storm. My hand raps against the heavy door before I step in without waiting for an answer. Anatoly’s sitting behind his desk, a bottle of whiskey already out and two glasses waiting. Typical. He looks up and grins.“Took you long enough,” he says, getting to his feet. His arms are open as he steps around the desk, and before I can dodge, he pulls me into a quick, firm hug. “Congratulations, old friend.”I grunt, patting his back awkwardly. “Yeah, thanks. Don’t make this weird.”“