MikhailI’m sitting on the porch steps, staring out at the dark treetops swaying in the distance. The stars above are faint, their light dim compared to the storm swirling in my chest. My fingers dig into the wood beneath me, the ache in my grip grounding me, barely.I can’t go back inside. Not yet. Not when Sophia is lying there, so still, so pale. The sight of her is a knife I can’t pull out, cutting deeper every time I imagine stepping into that room.I failed her. Again.The thought claws at my mind, and I clench my jaw to keep from growling at the empty night. She’s suffering, and I’m out here waiting—useless, powerless. This isn’t how a mate is supposed to be. I should have been faster. Stronger. Smarter. Something. Anything but this.The creak of the door behind me breaks through my spiral of self-loathing. I don’t have to look to know who it is neither I don't care who it is, because whoever they are, they are not Sophia.“Mikhail?” Artemis steps onto the porch, her footsteps
MikhailAfter Artemis has left, I spend some more time out here. But after talking to her, seeing her trust in me, the weight in my chest feels slightly lighter.Just slightly. The restlessness is still there, gnawing at me, but I know now it won’t leave until Sophia is awake, looking at me, speaking to me. Until then, I just have to bear it. Learn to deal with it.With a deep breath, I push off the steps and head back inside. The door creaks faintly as I close it behind me, and the house feels oppressively quiet. Each step I take up the stairs feels heavier than the last, the ache in my chest threatening to drown me again.I reach our bedroom door and stop, my hand resting on the frame. The air in the room beyond feels heavier, like it’s holding its breath, waiting. My pulse quickens, and for a moment, I can’t move. I can’t bring myself to walk in, to see her like that again—so still, so quiet. It’s like staring at a nightmare I can’t wake up from, and the thought alone has my han
MikhailThe soft glow of morning filters through the curtains touching her face, making her look like the angel she is. My eyes flicking back to Sophia every few seconds, as I get ready. She’s still lying there, as peaceful and as still as she was last night. My eyes shift to the rise and fall of her chest, calming me slightly as her breaths soft but steady. She is here.“Important day today,” I say quietly, my voice breaking the silence of the room. It feels strange to speak aloud, knowing she won’t respond, but I’ve been doing it anyway. Talking to her keeps me grounded, like she’s still here with me in the ways that matter. “The council’s meeting. And those bastard will try everything to break me, because they are Gregor's pigs. ""Only Goddess knows how much I want to release my wrath on them and finish each one of them once and for all." I growl as fury swirls inside me and I clench my hands into fists.My uncurling my hands, I take a deep breath before I turn to her fully. She
MikhailThe silence in the room stretches as one of the councilmen clears his throat, rising to his feet. His robes shift as he steps forward, an attempt at composure masking the unease I can smell in the air. His name is Elias Castor, a senior council member who fancies himself the voice of reason among his peers."I am Elias Castor, Senior Councilman," he begins, his voice steady but lacking the usual confidence. "And these are my colleagues: Councilmen Victor Hale, Marcus Draven, Edgar Flynn, Rowan Dorne, and Tobias Vren. Together, we form the governing body tasked with maintaining order among the packs."I heard a scoff coming from Caleb as Elias introduced themselves.As he lists their names, each councilman gives a slight nod. Some try to meet my gaze, but none hold it for long. I smirk, the corner of my mouth lifting just enough to remind them of the predator standing before them.Elias’s gaze shifts then, landing on Artemis and Atlas. His composure falters for a fraction of a
MikhailGregor’s face twists into an ugly scowl as he glances toward the councilmen, searching for support. His gaze flickers with frustration when none of them move or speak. Then he turns to me, glaring with all the defiance he can muster."How can you let him talk here like this?" he spits, his voice loud and grating as he addresses the council. "He is disrespecting you, and you are doing nothing about it!"Gregor’s lips curl into a mocking sneer. "Sophia is nothing to him," he snarls, gesturing toward me. "Not his mate, not a so-called Luna. If anyone has the right to her, it’s me. She belongs to my pack, and I am her Alpha.""You," My voice drops to an icy tone, "are nothing. You think you can stand here and claim her? You don’t even deserve to speak her name, let alone call her yours." I laugh coldly, the sound devoid of humor."She is not a bargaining chip to be traded or claimed by anyone else," My tone dripping with disdain. My eyes lock on Gregor. "And you will not speak of
MikhailElias looks momentarily stunned by the turn of events.He glances toward Gregor, and the two exchange a fleeting, charged look. I can see the silent communication between them, a mix of desperation and strategy playing out in their expressions.Elias clears his throat and straightens, quickly regaining his composure.His gaze shifts to Artemis, sharp and pointed.“The council cannot take the word of someone who has been deemed unstable,” he declares, his voice firm but carrying a slight edge of uncertainty. He tries to stand tall and project authority.Artemis doesn’t flinch. Her icy gaze is locked on Elias, unwavering, as if daring him to say more.“Enough, Elias,” Rowan interrupts, his voice calm but carrying an undeniable authority. “Nothing has been proven here, and you cannot project your personal opinions onto the council.”Elias stiffens, his lips pressing into a thin line. For a moment, I think he might argue, but Rowan’s unyielding gaze stops him. He glances around th
MikhailArtemis doesn’t flinch. She doesn’t move. She’s seen this coming and is doing nothing to stop it. One look at her face, and I know exactly what she’s planning. Her cold, composed expression is a mask, but beneath it, I see the sharp glint of strategy. Artemis is playing the long game, and Gregor just handed her the perfect opportunity.Atlas is trembling beside me, his fury barely contained. His hands clench and unclench as his entire body vibrates with the effort to hold himself back. He’s ready to snap, and I can’t blame him. But for now, he waits, his eyes locked on Artemis.Gregor crashes into her, and the impact sends her sprawling. She rolls to her side, curling protectively around her torso as blood gushes from the wounds his claws leave behind. A low growl escapes me, but I had to restrain myself from ruining the plan. But Atlas doesn't need to hold himself back as being her mate Gregor has just called for his wrath when he attacked Artemis.Like a storm breaking free,
MikhailThe rage inside me hasn’t settled. It simmers, threatening to boil over, and I feel like I’m seconds away from ripping Gregor apart for everything he’s done to Sophia. My hands clench into fists, and I grit my teeth, fighting the pull of the darkness clawing at me. I need Sophia. I need her to calm me before I lose control.I’m about to slide into the car when Artemis and Atlas walk up. Atlas steps closer, his expression unreadable, while Artemis lingers just behind him. My gaze flickers to her, and I pause.She looks fine, as if she wasn’t injured at all.We have fast healing, but she has healed even more quickly than us. The only sign of what happened is the blood staining her shirt, stark against the fabric.“How are you?” I ask, my voice low but steady, masking the storm raging inside me.She smirks, crossing her arms. “I’m not so weak that a pathetic person like Gregor could hurt me,” she says, her tone dripping with mockery.I study her for a moment, noting the confiden
JakeThe steady rhythm of the axe hitting the log fills the shed, the sound sharp and familiar. I lift the axe again, bringing it down with force, splitting the wood clean in half. The motion is automatic, something I have done a thousand times before, but my mind is nowhere near the task at hand.It is on her.Anastasia.I don’t know when it started, this thing where she takes up space in my head even when I am not trying to think about her. It is frustrating. Distracting. But no matter how many times I tell myself to stop, she is still there. In every damn thought.And my wolf constant nagging to go 'mate' isn't helping me either.I grab another log and place it on the block. My grip tightens around the axe, and I swing again, letting out a slow breath as the wood splits apart. It should be enough to clear my mind, but it isn't.My head is a mess.So many questions, so many pieces that don’t fit. I go over everything again and again, trying to make sense of it, but nothing adds up.
AnastasiaSurreal. That’s the only word that comes close to describing how I feel right now.Maria holds her newborn daughter, her eyes still teary but shining with something soft and overwhelming. Her fingers brush gently over the baby’s tiny cheek, and she looks up at me with so much gratitude that it steals my breath for a second."Thank you," she whispers. "I don’t know what I would’ve done without you."I blink, caught off guard. People around us nod in agreement, offering smiles and murmurs of appreciation. Someone claps me on the shoulder, another woman touches my arm, her grip warm and full of thanks.It’s strange. Not bad—just different.Back home, I’m not unappreciated, not exactly. But when I step up to help, it’s because I’m expected to. There’s no moment like this, no heartfelt thanks, because it’s just what I’m supposed to do. My responsibility. Nothing special. Nothing to be grateful for.But here? Here, they look at me like I did something that matters. Like I made a d
AnastasiaAfter finishing lunch, I decide to step outside the room. Sitting around isn’t going to give me answers. If I’m going to be stuck here, I need to know more about these people.Sophia mentioned the kitchen earlier, saying I could grab something if I needed it. That seems like a good place to start. As I make my way there, I stop in my tracks, my instincts flaring up.A huge man is sneaking up behind Sophia.She doesn’t notice him at all, completely oblivious to the fact that someone is moving toward her with silent, measured steps.Oh, hell no. Not on my watch.Before I even think about it, my body moves. I grab a knife from the sink, keeping my steps light as I approach. But before I can get close enough, he suddenly turns around. His reflexes are fast, but not fast enough to stop me.I drive my foot into his gut, making him stumble back. The moment his balance shifts, I push forward, forcing him to his knees and pressing the knife against his throat."Who are you?" My voice
JakeAnastasia.The woman I have been trying to stay away from is now staying in my sister’s house.Great. Just great.I drag a hand down my face, trying to push back the frustration clawing at me. Of all the damn places, why here? Why in Mikhail's pack’s territory, under my family’s roof?What was she even doing this far out? Dave’s land isn’t anywhere near here. She should not have been close to his pack's borders, not unless she had a reason. But what kind of reason would bring her all the way out here?And more than that, how the hell did she end up so badly hurt?The memory of her broken state slams into me. Blood. Bruises. The way she barely clung to consciousness. My wolf stirs, letting out a low growl inside me, restless and pissed.Who did that to her?She must have run into rogues. Stupid girl, wandering alone when she knows how dangerous the forest can be. She should have been more careful.But the thing is that something in me tells me that she isn't careless. And the rogu
AnastasiaThe woman steps inside, her gaze warm as she looks at me. "How are you feeling?"I open my mouth, then close it. I don’t know how to answer that. My body isn’t screaming in pain like before, but my mind… it’s a mess. I feel strange. Suspicious. Confused.I was badly injured. The kind of wounds that should take months to heal. But here I am, almost fine, only a few faint scars left behind, like my injuries are months old instead of… however long it has actually been.None of this makes sense.And yet, there is something about her, about this whole room, that makes it hard to stay on edge.I swallow, forcing out the only answer I can manage. "Better."She smiles, like she understands more than I am saying. "Good."Beside me, Rose wiggles happily, still grinning. "She took my cookie," she announces proudly, like that somehow means something important.The woman chuckles, shaking her head. "Did she now?" Her eyes flick to my hand, where I am still holding the half-eaten cookie.
AnastasiaDarkness clings to me, dense and heavy, but it starts to slip away little by little. My body feels light, like I am floating in water, but when I try to move, a dull ache spreads through me. My fingers twitch first, then my toes. My head feels too heavy to lift, but I force my eyes open.The room around me is dimly lit, unfamiliar. The air smells clean, carrying hints of pine and something faintly smoky. I blink a few times, my vision adjusting to the soft glow of a lamp on the nightstand. The bed beneath me is warm, the blankets tucked around me like I belong here. But I don’t.Panic grips my chest, snapping me into full awareness. I push myself up, ignoring the way my muscles protest.Patting my waist and then my thigh, where I strap my second dagger, I look for my weapons. But there is nothing.My heartbeat pounds against my ribs as I swing my legs over the edge of the bed. My boots are gone too. I search the room, my gaze darting to the furniture.A dresser, a small tab
JakeI don’t like this. Not one bit.Rogues creeping closer. Hunters sniffing around. Trouble coming at us from every damn direction.It used to be quieter. Sure, we had threats, but nothing like this. Now, almost every week, we find signs of rogues too close to our borders... scents that don’t belong, paw prints where they shouldn’t be, carcasses left behind like warnings.It’s not just a few wanderers anymore. They’re moving in groups, testing the edges of our land, and none of us are taking it lightly.But the rogues aren’t the only problem.The hunters are here too.We’ve found traces of them in the neutral land, tracks, old camps, abandoned traps. We don’t know if they came because of the rogues or if they were already here, but it doesn’t matter. Hunters are never good news.I don’t like not knowing why they’re this close. If they’re just tracking rogues, fine. We don’t need to cross paths. But if they’re here for something else, if they’re watching us… that’s a whole different
Anastasia**A few months later**Every step feels heavier than the last.My legs shake, my muscles scream, and the deep gash on my side throbs like a warning I refuse to listen to. I press a hand against it, feeling the warm, sticky blood that won’t stop.My breath comes in short gasps, and my vision blurs for a second before snapping back into focus.Keep moving. Just a little more.Stopping isn't an option.I press my hand against my side, feeling the warm, sticky blood seeping through my fingers.Damn it.Where the hell are the others?My heartbeat pounds in my ears, drowning out the rustling of the trees around me. They wouldn’t have left me. No way. Something must have happened. Maybe they got separated. Maybe they’re still fighting. Maybe they’re dead.No. No, I can't think like that.I suck in a sharp breath, trying to ignore the way my vision blurs at the edges. They wouldn’t abandon me. They couldn’t abandon me.That’s what’s ingrained in us. Never leave your own.One for all
Anastasia's POVThere are two ways to live in this world. Our world. You either step up and be brave, choose to be the predator, or you cower, bow your head, and live as prey.I choose the first. Always have.Hunting is more than just instinct. It’s the rush in my veins, the fire in my chest when I move, when I chase, when I strike. My body doesn’t hesitate. It knows what to do before my mind even catches up. Every step, every breath, every heartbeat... it all leads to one thing.The kill.That’s not something you can fake. You can’t learn it, not from a book, not from someone else. It’s something that’s just... there. Deep inside. Like a second heartbeat, pulsing through me.And it’s real damn hard to fight against something that’s carved into your bones, something that’s built into every fiber of your being. Only if my father would understand.Don’t get me wrong, I love my father. Always have, always will. He’s done everything he could for me, tried to raise me with care, to protec