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2. Katya
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2024-10-29 19:42:56Three 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.
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Between Hate and Fate 7. Ruslan
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Between Hate and Fate 46. Ruslan
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Between Hate and Fate 45. Ruslan
Sitting on the porch, the cool night air brushing against my skin, I feel the weight of everything pressing down on me. Anatoly’s offer echoes in my mind, repeating over and over. Beta. Joining a pack again. Becoming part of something bigger than just me and Katya.I stare out at the darkened tree line, the quiet hum of the night surrounding me. It’s tempting, I won’t lie. Being in a pack again means protection, stability, a sense of belonging I haven’t had in years. I was an Alpha once, before everything was taken from me. Before Andrei. The pull of pack life, the need to lead, to protect—it’s still in my blood. It’s something I can’t just shake off, no matter how far I’ve run.But the other side of it... It’s not so simple.Katya and I have carved out a fragile peace here in the mountains, away from everything and everyone. No pack politics, no eyes watching our every move, no expectations to meet or traditions to uphold. We’ve been left to figure things out on our own, and someho
Between Hate and Fate 44. Katya
The wind carries the scent of pine and earth as I stand on the porch and watch Ruslan and Anatoly move through the clearing, their heads bent close together as they talk in low, serious voices. They’ve been at it for hours, scouring the area for any sign of the bounty hunters, and inspecting the bodies of the bounty hunters that Ruslan took down last night, trying to figure out who they were working for. Anatoly brought a small army with him—at least a dozen warriors, all loyal to his pack and all on high alert. I’m grateful, but there’s a part of me that’s still uneasy.Watching Ruslan move with such ease, taking command alongside Anatoly, reminds me of what he was before all of this. Before he became a rogue. He was an Alpha. He was strong, a leader, and despite everything, I can still see that in him now.I lean against the porch railing, watching as they talk quietly, their movements efficient, trained. Anatoly gestures for Ruslan to come over to him. I can’t hear what they’re s
Between Hate and Fate 43. Ruslan
Katya moves quickly, her hands shaking as she packs up our things, and I can feel the fear radiating off her in waves. It cuts through me like a knife, but I can’t let it slow us down. We don’t have time; whoever sent those bounty hunters won’t stop. This isn’t the kind of job you can just walk away from.I grab what little we have, throwing the bags into the back of the SUV. Katya’s hands tremble as she climbs into the passenger seat, her face pale and her breaths uneven. I hate seeing her like this—scared, uncertain. I reach out and squeeze her hand as I start the engine, the rumble of the SUV breaking the tense silence between us.“It’ll be okay,” I murmur, trying to keep my voice calm, even though the tension is coiling tight in my chest. “We’ll figure this out.”She nods, but I can see the doubt in her eyes. She’s not just scared—she’s exhausted. Her body has been through so much, and now with the baby... I can’t let this go on. She needs rest. She needs safety. And right now, I’
Between Hate and Fate 42. Ruslan
The second I step outside, the cold air hits my face, and I smell them. Wolves. Not just any wolves—trained killers. My muscles tense, my body going on autopilot as I scan the darkness. They think they’re being quiet, that they’re sneaking up on me, but I know better.I slip through the shadows, my senses sharp, my wolf just beneath the surface. I’ve been in enough of these situations to know what’s coming. These men, whoever sent them, came here to take something from me. They’re going to regret that.The first one lunges from the shadows, teeth bared, aiming straight for my throat. I dodge quickly, spinning to the side and bringing my elbow down on the back of his neck with a sickening crunch. He drops like a rock, barely making a sound as he hits the ground.One down.There’s no time to think—another one charges at me from the left, but I’m ready. I grab him by the throat, slamming him into the nearest tree. His claws tear at my arm, but I ignore the pain. I’ve dealt with worse. He
Between Hate and Fate 41. Katya
The early morning air is crisp as Ruslan and I drive into town. We’re heading there to stock up on supplies for the week and to get a few things for the nursery. It’s a routine we’ve fallen into since we came to this cottage—one that’s become surprisingly comfortable. I glance at him as he drives, his strong hands gripping the steering wheel, his eyes focused on the road ahead. Usually, he’s calm on these drives, the tension from his rogue days slipping away as we spend more time in this quiet little town. But today, something feels off.His jaw is clenched, and the way his eyes dart around, scanning every inch of the road, makes my stomach twist with unease. I know Ruslan. He doesn’t get rattled easily, and for him to look like this? It’s enough to put me on edge.I don’t say anything at first, not wanting to disturb whatever thoughts are running through his head. Instead, I lean back in my seat and try to enjoy the ride, but the longer we drive, the more I can’t shake the feeling
Between Hate and Fate 40. Ruslan
I wake up to the warmth of Katya’s body pressed against mine, her soft breath fanning out across my chest. For a moment, I don’t move. I just lie there, letting the reality of last night settle in. She’s here, in my arms, tangled up in the sheets with me, and everything we’ve been fighting against for so long ... it’s all fallen away.I still can’t believe Katya feels the same about me. She’s not running, not pushing me away. Last night, she let it all go, let us be, and for the first time, I felt like we were on the same page. That we weren’t just bound by the bond, but by something real, something we chose.I let out a quiet sigh, brushing a few strands of her tousled hair away from her face. Her lips are slightly parted, her body relaxed, and I can’t help but smile. She stirs in my arms, and I feel the weight of her body shift against mine. Her hair is a mess, falling in wild waves across her shoulders, and when she presses back into me, I feel her pregnant belly pushing against
Between Hate and Fate 39. Katya
The words hang in the air, and for a moment, I think he’s going to pull away, that he’s going to tell me to go back inside and forget this ever happened. But then his lips crash against mine, and everything else fades away.The kiss is desperate, raw, like we’ve both been holding back for too long, and now there’s no stopping it. His hands tighten in my hair, pulling me closer as his body pressed against mine, and I feel the bond between us explode, igniting everything inside me.He picks me up like I weigh nothing and grinds against my core. I wrap my legs around his waist and link my arms around his neck. He growls against my lips when he feels my wet centre against his cock, then he breaks off the kiss.It feels like he can see right through me, and his eyes never leave mine. He lowers me to the ground, all mention of the cold air forgotten, then he rips the silk dress from my body and throws the ruined fabric to the side.“Mine,” he growls as his gaze roves over my body and he dra
