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 fire crackles in front of me; flames licking at the sky as Andrei’s pyre burns. The scent of smoke fills the air, and the heat from the blaze is so intense that it almost feels like it’s burning me from the inside out. I stand there, frozen in place, clutching the fabric of my black dress as if it can somehow ground me, somehow stop the spinning inside my head. It doesn’t. Nothing does.Tears blur my vision and I blink them away, refusing to let myself fall apart in front of the pack. I’m their Luna, their leader now, and I can’t show weakness, not even when the man I loved more than anything is nothing but ash and memory. But it’s impossible to hide the way my body trembles, the way every breath feels like I’m suffocating under the weight of the grief crushing my chest.I look up, and there’s Andrei’s face, still so vivid in my mind. His laugh, the way his eyes crinkled at the edges when he smiled. How he would rest his hand on my belly, even before I told him I was pregnant. I
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,
RuslanThe second I lock eyes with her, my chest tightens, and something snaps deep inside me. No. No fucking way. This can’t be real, it has to be some sick joke. There’s no fucking way the Goddess would curse me like this—mate me to the Luna of the bastard who took everything from me and made me watch.I can feel the bond pulling at me, stronger than anything I’ve ever felt in my life. It claws at my insides, trying to drag me toward her, as if my body doesn’t even belong to me anymore. I grit my teeth, my muscles tensing, and fight the urge to give in. It’s not possible. It’s not fucking possible.Her scent hits me again—fucking peaches and honey— it’s something that stirs parts of me I’ve buried for a long time. But I don’t want it. I don’t want her. My mind rebels against the very idea. I look at her, the way her face is twisted in shock, her lips parted, and her hand gripping her chest like she’s trying to stop her heart from breaking out. She’s just as confused as I am, but
KatyaI pace back and forth in Andrei’s office, the one place I used to feel safe, where everything felt secure, and now it feels like a prison. My heart pounds in my chest, my breaths coming in uneven, angry bursts. I’m furious. Not just at Ruslan, though he’s a big part of it, but at myself.How could I let this happen? How could I let that Rogue get under my skin like that? The way he looked at me, the way he spoke to me like I was nothing. Like I didn’t matter at all. The nerve of him, sneering at me, laughing like the bond was some kind of joke. I grip the edge of the desk, my knuckles white, trying to steady myself. But nothing helps. I want to scream. I want to tear something apart. I can still see his face, the way his cold silver eyes locked onto mine, that damn smirk on his lips. He acted like he didn’t care about any of it—about me, about the bond. Like he’s above it all. What’s worse is the way my body responded to him, like it was out of my control. The bond hit me li
The chains bite into my wrists, burning like fire as the silver seeps into my skin. My arms feel like dead weight, hanging uselessly above me, held up only by the restraints that have become a part of me now. I don’t know how long I’ve been here. Days? Weeks? Time doesn’t exist in this cell. There’s only the darkness, the endless ache in my body, and the gnawing emptiness where food and water used to be.I try to remember when I last ate, but the memory slips away, lost in the fog of pain. My mouth is dry, my throat raw, but even the need for water has faded into something dull and distant. It doesn’t matter anymore. Nothing does. The only thing I can feel now is the burn of the silver and the weight of my past pressing down on me.I close my eyes, letting the darkness swallow me. Maybe if I concentrate hard enough, I can disappear. But even in the dark, the memories come.Mina. Mila.I see their faces so clearly, so full of life and laughter. The way Mina would chase Mila around th
I step into the dimly lit cell, the cold stone walls making it feel more like a tomb than a prison. The scent of damp air and blood hits me immediately, and I pause at the threshold, my stomach twisting. I shouldn’t be here. I know that. But I need to face him. I need to tell him the verdict and make this right.But as soon as I see him, hanging there by his wrists, half-dead, my breath catches in my throat. He’s broken. His silver hair, matted and tangled, clings to his sweat-slick skin, and his bare chest is covered in fresh and old scars. His wrists are raw, the silver chains biting deep into his flesh, burning him. There’s blood, so much blood, but that’s not what hits me hardest. It’s the look on his face, the way he’s staring at me with a distant, haunted expression, his eyes glassy, lost in some memory I can’t reach.For a moment, I hesitate. I was prepared for anger, for defiance, for that cold indifference he always wears like armour. But this… this is something else. He lo
When I wake up, everything hurts. My head’s pounding, my throat feels like it’s been scraped raw, and my wrists sting with a familiar burn from the silver chains. But the softness beneath me is all wrong. I’m not hanging from the cold, unforgiving ceiling of the cell anymore. No, this... this is a bed. A pristine, clean bed.I blink, my vision blurry, trying to get my bearings. No stone walls, no damp smell, no distant sounds of guards or prisoners. Just silence. My arms are still chained, but they’re lying at my sides now, the cuffs digging into my skin and attached to a long chain. My muscles ache, screaming from the strain of being bound for so long. I want to move, to shift, but I’m too weak. Too drained.Where the hell am I? How did I get here?I try to sit up, but my body protests, the pain shooting through me like fire. Before I can even try again, the door creaks open, and she walks in.Katya.The moment I see her, my blood starts to boil. Her sweet scent hits me first—peaches
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
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?
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
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
(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
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
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