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
The dream starts the same way it always does—darkness, heavy and suffocating, settling over the woods like a shroud. I’m standing in the clearing, the smell of blood thick in the air. My heart is pounding, rage curling hot and sharp in my veins as I face him.Andrei.The bastard stands there, breathing hard, his lips curled into that smug, self-satisfied sneer I hated more than anything. He’s cocky, thinking he’s untouchable. Thinking he can take whatever he wants and never face the consequences.My sisters’ screams echo in my head, their pain like a knife carving through my chest. I see them—Mina and Mila—helpless, broken. Dead.And Andrei? He laughed.“You’ll regret this,” he snarls, but even in the dream, I know how this ends. I know what I did.His pack is gone. His warriors scattered. He’s alone. Just me and him in the clearing.“Come on, Rogue,” Andrei spits, blood dribbling from the corner of his mouth. “Is this what you wanted? To die out here, forgotten? Like the nothing you
(A few months later)The air is cool but not biting, the kind of crispness that wakes you up gently. Milanya’s small, gurgling laugh carries on the breeze, and for once, it feels like the world has slowed down enough for me to breathe.Katya walks a few steps ahead of me, her dark hair glinting in the light as she points out something in the woods to Milanya, who’s perched on my shoulders. My daughter’s tiny hands clutch at my hair, occasionally pulling just hard enough to make me wince, but I can’t bring myself to care.Her laughter is worth it.“How does she still have so much energy?” I ask, grinning as Katya turns to look at me with a raised brow.“She’s your daughter,” she teases. “Does that really surprise you?”I huff out a laugh, adjusting Milanya’s grip as she leans forward to grab at my ear. “Fair point. She’s definitely got my stamina.”Katya snorts. “That’s one way to put it.”“Don’t start,” I warn, though there’s no real heat in my voice. “I’m trying to enjoy this before
Anatoly’s office light glows faintly through the packhouse window, a constant reminder that my oldest friend never really sleeps either. He probably feels the same unease I do.The door creaks softly as I push it open. Anatoly doesn’t look up right away, his focus on the map of our territory spread across his desk. He’s wearing the same weary expression he always does these days, but his sharp, calculating eyes catch me as I step inside.“You’re up late,” he says, leaning back in his chair.“So are you,” I reply, shutting the door behind me.He gestures for me to sit. “What’s on your mind, old friend?”I sink into the chair opposite him, rubbing the back of my neck. “It’s been too quiet, Anatoly. Months without a single move from Tomas or anyone else. It doesn’t feel right.”Anatoly nods, his expression grim. “I’ve been thinking the same thing. Quiet isn’t our normal. Not with all the enemies we’ve made and those rogues sniffing around a few months ago.”“Have you found anything?” I a
The cabin feels different in the quiet mornings, as if it knows we’re balanced on the edge of something we can’t yet see. Milanya babbles happily in her bassinet by the window, sunlight catching in her dark hair as she swats at the plush toy hanging above her.And Ruslan? He’s out running patrols again, keeping his sharp eye on the pack’s borders.I sip my tea and glance around the small space we’ve made our home. It’s cozy, warm, and so full of memories that it sometimes feels like we’ve lived here forever. But we haven’t. It’s been months, not years, since my life collided with Ruslan’s.I never imagined loving him. Hell, I never imagined surviving him. But here we are.He’s everywhere now—in every thought, every decision. When he’s gone, the cabin feels like it’s missing its foundation. When he’s here, his presence fills the space, his warmth grounding me in ways I never thought possible.I glance down at Milanya, who giggles at nothing, and my chest tightens. The life we’ve built
Later that day, I head to the training grounds, my heart thudding in my chest. I’m nervous, not because I doubt my decision, but because this feels like the first step toward reclaiming something I lost along the way: my strength.The grounds are alive with activity. Warriors spar in pairs, their movements fast and brutal, the sound of fists hitting pads and grunts of exertion filling the crisp air. Roman stands near the edge, his arms crossed as he watches two young wolves spar. He’s sharp-eyed and focused, his posture relaxed but ready, like he could jump in at a moment’s notice.“Roman,” I call, walking toward him.He turns, his brow lifting in surprise when he sees me. “Katya?” His tone carries a mix of curiosity and mild amusement. “What brings you here?”I stop in front of him, squaring my shoulders. “I need your help.”His expression shifts, his easy going demeanor replaced with something more serious. He straightens slightly, his arms dropping to his sides. “What kind of help?
I smirk, leaning forward to press a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “What’s wrong? Can’t handle me taking the lead for once?”His hands tighten on my hips, his eyes narrowing slightly. “Careful, solnyshka,” he warns, though his voice has a rough edge that betrays how much he likes this.I bite my lip, dragging my nails lightly down his chest as I settle more fully into his lap. His cock hardens beneath me, and I can feel the way his breath catches, his control slipping just a fraction.“Maybe I don’t want to be careful,” I whisper, my lips brushing against his jaw as I kiss a path down to his neck.“Bold,” he mutters, his voice low and gravelly as his hands slide up my back, holding me steady. “Where’s this side of you been hiding?”I pull back just enough to meet his gaze, my lips curving into a mischievous smile. “You bring it out of me.”His smirk softens, his eyes blazing with pride and hunger as he leans back, giving me the space to move. “Go ahead, solnyshka,” he murmurs, his v
The knock on Anatoly’s office door pulls me from my thoughts. It’s late, the kind of late where only bad news travels. I glance over at Anatoly, who’s already frowning, his hand resting on the edge of his desk.“Come in,” he says, his voice clipped, his posture tense.The door creaks open, and one of our warriors steps in, their expression grim. Behind them, a figure lingers in the shadows, hesitant, their face obscured by a hood.“What’s this about?” Anatoly demands, leaning forward.“This one came to the border,” the warrior says, nodding toward the hooded figure. “Said they had news about Tomas. Insisted they speak to you and Beta Ruslan.”My stomach tightens as the figure steps into the light. A woman, thin but with a sharpness in her eyes that speaks of survival, pulls back her hood. I don’t recognize her, but her scent tells me everything I need to know.“Katya’s old pack,” I growl, my fists clenching at my sides.The woman flinches but doesn’t back down. “Yes,” she says, her vo
5 Years LaterThe crisp mountain air fills my lungs as I stand at the foot of the cabin, the old wood of the porch creaking softly beneath my weight. The familiar scent of pine and damp earth surrounds me, grounding me in the moment as my eyes follow the scene in front of me.Katya’s laugh echoes across the clearing, light and carefree, the kind of sound that still catches me off guard because of how much it softens everything inside me. She’s running, her long dark hair streaming behind her like a banner as she chases Milanya and Mikhail.Milanya shrieks with laughter, her dark curls bouncing as she sprints ahead, her silver eyes gleaming with mischief. She’s fast, so fast for her age, and every time I see her move with that wild, untamed energy, I see pieces of both Katya and me in her.Mikhail isn’t far behind, his silver hair catching the light as he dodges around his sister, trying to outmaneuver her. He’s quieter, more measured in his movements, but there’s no mistaking the spark
I can’t help but smile as I think about the pride in Ruslan’s eyes when he watched Milanya shift for the first time. He looked so overwhelmed, like he couldn’t believe he was witnessing something so incredible. I wonder if he realizes how much of himself she carries. The same raw determination, the same strength—it’s all there in her, as much a part of her as her little hands and feet.The rustling of leaves pulls me out of my thoughts, and I look up to see Ruslan emerging from the trees, his massive wolf form padding silently into the clearing. Milanya trails behind him, her tiny black paws stumbling over roots and rocks but determined to keep up.Ruslan shifts first, his towering frame replacing the wolf in a seamless movement that still leaves me breathless. He slips on his shirt and pants and crouches down to help Milanya with her own shift, his hands steady and gentle as he murmurs soft words of encouragement.When she’s back in her human form, she giggles and throws her arms ar
The sun is high in the sky, and a soft breeze carries the earthy scent of the forest, mixed with the faint sweetness of wildflowers. Peace. That’s what this is—pure, uninterrupted peace.Milanya toddles ahead, her tiny hand gripping Ruslan’s much larger one. She’s walking more steadily now, her confidence growing with every day. It’s hard to believe she was just a baby clinging to my hip not so long ago. Now, she’s this curious little explorer at fifteen months, her grey eyes wide with wonder as she glances back at me with a giggle.“She’s fast,” I say with a laugh, watching as she tries to tug Ruslan forward.“She’s got my stamina,” Ruslan replies, smirking over his shoulder. “Lucky you.”“Lucky me,” I echo, rolling my eyes but unable to hide my smile.The past year and a half have changed everything. The shadows that once clung to our lives have finally dissipated, leaving room for something brighter. I feel it in the way Ruslan carries himself now—less guarded, more at ease. He’s
The silence in Tomas’ abandoned packhouse is suffocating. It’s a shell of what it once was—empty halls, shattered windows, the faint stench of fear and blood lingering in the air. The pack he once commanded with an iron fist has scattered, no doubt fleeing the inevitable after the council finally acted. There’s no one left to stand beside him now. Just like it should be.It’s almost poetic.The council’s letter came two months ago, filled with apologies to Katya. They admitted their mistake, exiling her without understanding the full picture. They’d tried to welcome her back, promising to reinstate her as Luna with me by her side, but she refused.“I already have a home,” she’d said softly.I remember the way my chest swelled with pride, hearing her say that. It didn’t matter how much power or respect the council tried to dangle in front of her—Katya wasn’t interested. She wanted peace, a life with Milanya, and me.I walk through the halls with purpose, my claws itching to end this.
The cabin feels far too quiet without Ruslan’s presence. Milanya is napping in her crib, the soft sound of her tiny breaths the only thing breaking the silence. Normally, I’d find her peacefulness soothing, but today it feels like a cruel reminder of how fragile everything is.I sit by the window, my gaze fixed on the treeline where Ruslan disappeared hours ago. He had to leave to help fortify the border and investigate how Andrei managed to get onto pack lands in the first place. He hadn’t wanted to go, not after everything we’d been through last night, but we both knew he didn’t have a choice.His absence weighs heavily on me, and I can’t stop my thoughts from spiraling. The memory of Andrei in Milanya’s room, his scarred face twisted with obsession and desperation, keeps replaying in my mind. The way he spoke about me, about Milanya, like we were possessions he had lost and deserved to reclaim.I close my eyes, leaning my head against the cool glass of the window. The bond between
Anatoly and I are standing outside my cabin, but my focus is locked on the sight of Katya and Milanya.Through the large window, I watch as the healers gently examine them, their practiced hands moving over Katya’s arm where a bruise has already started to form. Milanya sits on Katya’s lap, her little hands clutching at her mother’s shirt, her big, stormy eyes darting around the room.My chest tightens at the sight of them, the aftermath of everything that just happened sinking into my bones. They’re safe now, but the thought of how close it came—how close Andrei had gotten—makes me feel like I’m still on the battlefield.Anatoly’s voice breaks through my thoughts. “Ruslan, focus. I need your report.”I tear my eyes away from them, turning to face him. His jaw is tight and his fists clenched as he watches me with concern.“I already told you what happened,” I say, my voice rough. “Andrei got into the cabin. He had Marissa helping him, and she was armed with silver bullets.”Anatoly’s
Everything happens at once, a chaotic blur of motion and sound that stretches into an eternity. One moment, Marissa’s voice is ringing in my ears, cruel and taunting, her gun aimed at me and Milanya. The next, the window shatters, glass spraying across the room like frozen rain as the Gammas burst in, their growls tearing through the air.Andrei spins toward the sound, his snarl breaking into a roar as Roman lunges at him, his claws slashing through the space between them. The fight begins in an instant—a savage clash of strength and rage—but my focus is elsewhere.Milanya.My daughter’s soft whimper pulls me back, grounding me in the chaos. She’s still in her crib, her tiny face scrunched with fear. I can’t let her stay there, exposed and vulnerable.I move without thinking, my feet propelling me forward as adrenaline takes over. My arms reach out, desperate to scoop her up and hold her close.“Don’t you fucking dare!” Marissa shrieks, lunging toward me, her gun still aimed at my ch
My heart pounds in my chest, my instincts kicking into overdrive. My wolf pushes against my skin, snarling and growling, ready to fight. I scan the cabin, my eyes darting to every corner, every shadow.“Ruslan?” Katya’s voice is soft and groggy, coming from the bedroom.I don’t answer, my focus laser-sharp on the scent that refuses to fade.“Ruslan?” she calls again, louder this time.I move toward the door, my bare feet crunching over the broken glass. Every muscle in my body is tense, my senses on high alert.“Stay in the bedroom,” I say over my shoulder, my voice low and commanding.“What’s going on?” she asks, her voice tinged with worry.“Just stay there,” I repeat, my eyes falling to Milanya’s room, and seeing it is cracked open. I walk over and push it open slowly, my hand tightening on the frame as my eyes land on him.Andrei is standing by the crib, his back to me, his hand outstretched. His fingers trace gently along Milanya’s cheek, and bile rises in my throat.“You know,”
The packhouse is alive tonight. Laughter and chatter echo through the open courtyard, and the scent of roasted meats and spiced desserts fills the air. It’s not my scene. It never has been. But here I am, standing at the edge of it all, scanning the crowd like a hawk while trying not to look like one.Everything is calm, almost unnervingly so. The pack needed this, Anatoly had argued, and watching them laugh and relax after months of tension, I can’t say he was wrong. But I can’t shake the nagging feeling that something might go wrong.“Relax, Ruslan,” Anatoly says from beside me. He’s holding a glass of whiskey, his other hand resting casually on the hilt of his blade. “You’re wound so tight you’re going to snap.”I grunt, crossing my arms over my chest. “I’ll relax when Tomas is six feet under and Katya and Milanya are safe.”Anatoly smirks, sipping his drink. “Fair enough. But you don’t need to look like you’re about to kill someone tonight. This is for them.” He gestures to the p