2. Katya

Three weeks of building anger, of restless nights, and waking up to an empty bed that should still belong to Andrei. Three weeks of watching the pack try to move on, while I can’t seem to move past the moment I lost him. 

Every breath I take feels tainted by the fact that the man responsible for his death is still alive, breathing the same air as the rest of us. But today, that changes.

Today, the Rogue filth dies.

I stand at the front of the clearing, my heart pounding in my chest as I watch the pack gather, their faces filled with cold satisfaction and pure anger. They want blood, justice for their Alpha, and I want it more than anyone.

Every nerve in my body is taut with fury. My hands shake at my sides, but not from fear. From rage. The kind of rage that’s settled into my bones, burning hotter with every passing day. 

How dare he live while Andrei’s body is ash? How dare he get to breathe even for a second longer?

Tomas approaches, his face set in a grim line. “It’s time.”

I nod, the words caught in my throat, as he signals for the Rogue to be brought out. My fists clench as I wait, every second dragging like an eternity. I don’t care what happens next. I just want to see him dead. I want him to feel every ounce of pain he’s caused.

I watch as Tomas shoves him forward, the Rogue’s hands bound in front of him with heavy silver cuffs that burn his skin. His jeans, the only thing he’s wearing, are torn, barely hanging on his hips, and his chest is bare, scarred. 

He has the silver hair of a Rogue. It’s long and matted with blood and dirt, hanging over his face. Goddess, his muscles are huge and he looks like he was bred for war. This man is a weapon; a bloody mess and nothing more than an animal that needs to be put down.

My fists clench at my sides as I shake off the odd feeling coursing through me. No. I’m not here for doubt. I’m here for justice. This Rogue doesn’t deserve sympathy, he deserves death. His crimes are written all over his body, every scar a reminder of the lives he’s taken, the chaos he’s sown.

My eyes roam over his body, taking in the scars that cover his chest and back, some old and faded, others fresh and angry. They should make me feel satisfied, make me glad that he’s suffered. But instead, I feel… off. Uneasy. The sight of his beaten, scarred body doesn’t give me the satisfaction I expected.

What the hell is wrong with me?

I grit my teeth, forcing myself to stay focused. He’s a killer. A Rogue who took my husband from me and made my unborn child fatherless. I should be happy to see him suffer.

But I’m not.

Tomas drags him to the centre of the clearing, forcing him to his knees in front of the pack. The Rogue doesn’t flinch. He doesn’t struggle. He just lifts his head and looks around, his eyes narrowing in defiance. His face is bruised, a deep scar running down his left eye, but there’s a hardness there, an unshakable arrogance that makes my blood boil.

But I can’t ignore the strange pull in my gut as I take in his form—the way his muscles ripple beneath the scars, the sharp angles of his jaw, the wildness in his grey eyes. 

My stomach churns, but I force myself to stay calm. This is what I wanted. Revenge. Justice. Closure. The thought of him dying should give me peace. Instead, it’s just making everything worse.

I don’t take my eyes off the Rogue as he stands there, silent, his head lowered. He hasn’t said a word since they brought him in. He’s just been waiting. Waiting to die.

And I want to watch him die. I want to see the life leave his eyes, want to feel that weight lift off my chest. The weight that’s been crushing me since Andrei’s death. I need this. I need closure.

Tomas walks up next to him, his voice ringing out in the quiet. “Ruslan, former Alpha of the SilverBane Pack, you stand here today guilty of the murder of Alpha Andrei, the taking of innocent lives, and the destruction of pack lands. Do you have any last words before you face your punishment?”

For a moment, Ruslan says nothing. He just breathes, slow and steady, as if none of this is real to him. And then, he laughs. A low, dark sound that sends a shiver down my spine, despite the anger coursing through my veins.

“The Goddess is the only one who judges,” Ruslan says, his voice rough and he lifts his head looking straight at Tomas. “This entire pack will be judged after I die, just like you, Beta scum.”

The arrogance in his words makes me want to scream. Who the hell does he think he is? He’s about to die, and he’s still mocking us? Still acting like none of this matters?

Tomas, who has slightly paled at his words, punches him hard in the face. Ruslan’s head turns to the side and he spits out blood, but he doesn’t lose that damned smirk as he laughs. 

Something about his laughter, the way he carries himself, sets me on edge. My fingers curl into fists, nails digging into my palms, and I try to push down the unease creeping up my spine.

He deserves to die. He deserves this.

Tomas straightens, his face flushed with anger as he prepares to give the final signal. The crowd is silent, waiting for the moment of justice, the moment where Andrei will be avenged. I brace myself, waiting for the satisfaction, the sense of closure I’ve been aching for since the day Andrei was ripped from me.

But then, Ruslan moves.

His head lifts, and his eyes find mine.

And everything shatters.

It’s like the air is sucked out of the clearing. My heart slams against my ribs as I gasp, the world tilting beneath my feet. I feel it before I can even understand what’s happening, like a force crashing into me, sharp and undeniable.

His scent hits me like a wave, cutting through the grime, sweat, and blood. Cinnamon and bergamot. I shouldn’t be able to smell it from here, but I do, and it’s overwhelming.

No.

No, no, no.

This can’t be happening!

The mate bond hits me so hard, it’s like the ground is ripped out from under me. I stumble back, my eyes widening as I stare at him, at the man who killed my husband, the man I should hate more than anything. 

But instead of hate, all I can feel is the bond pulling at me, demanding that I recognize it.

His eyes widen in shock, and I know he feels it too. The bond. The connection. The pull that ties us together.

“MATE,” I gasp, the word ripping from my throat before I can stop it.

At the same time, Ruslan’s silver eyes flash crimson and he roars, “MATE!”

Tomas freezes, his fist still raised as if he’s about to strike Ruslan again, but his eyes are wide with disbelief.

I can’t breathe. I can’t think. I can’t feel anything except the bond crashing into me, pulling me toward him. Him. The man who killed my husband. The man I’ve hated for weeks. The man I wanted to see dead.

Ruslan’s eyes are locked on mine, and I can see the shock, the confusion, and then something else—something darker, something primal. His gaze rakes over me, and I feel my pulse quicken, my body reacting in ways it shouldn’t. Not to him. Not to my enemy.

I tear my eyes away from him, trying to focus, trying to think. But the bond is too strong. It wraps around me like a vice, squeezing until I can’t breathe, until I’m drowning in it.

He’s my mate. He’s my fucking mate. The man who killed my husband, who destroyed my world.

“Luna,” Tomas’s voice is barely a whisper, filled with disbelief, but I can’t look at him. I can’t look at anyone. Not right now.

I want to scream. I want to tear the world apart for how unfair it is. Instead, I just stand there, trembling, my eyes locked on Ruslan as he slowly rises to his feet, his gaze never leaving mine.

And despite the blood, the grime, the rage boiling inside me, there’s something else. Something undeniable, something that makes my stomach twist in a way I can’t explain.

Attraction.