LOGIN
Mikhail
I stand at the edge of the forest, the scent of pine and earth filling my senses. My blindness sharpens my other senses, making the world around me more vivid in ways most can't comprehend.
Being blind hasn't made me weak. In fact, it's made me stronger, more ruthless. A cruel smirk appears on my face when I recall what happened to those who considered me weak and challenged me. I can still feel the warmth of their blood on my skin as I tore them limb from limb with my bare hands. Those bastards weren't even worthy of fighting against my wolf; even in my human form, they were no match for my strength.
I haven't earned the title of Cruel Blind Alpha for nothing. Killing is my second nature. As the Alpha of the strongest pack in the northern territory, my pack and I are known for being ruthless and fierce.
My father might not have been a loving father, but he was a great mentor. He taught me never to let anyone consider my sightlessness as a weakness.
His methods were harsh, almost cruel, but they prepared me to face this world. He drilled into me the importance of strength and the necessity of being feared and respected.
My mother never liked the way he trained me, but she never said anything because she knew he was doing it for my benefit. She was the only softness in my life, the one who offered comfort after my father's brutal lessons. Her love was a quiet, constant presence, a warmth I rarely allowed myself to acknowledge. But she knew, as I did, that without my father's harsh training, no one would consider me worthy of being Alpha. Without it, I would always be seen as a weak and pathetic excuse for a leader.
My parents died in a rogue attack when I was barely an adult. But I didn't let their deaths go unavenged. I hunted down every last rogue involved and made sure none of them lived to tell the tale.
Clenching my jaws, I shake my head as my wolf howls inside me, being as restless as ever.
Raising my face towards the sky, my useless eyes notice slight brightness, indicating that the moon is shining brightly, and what I am feeling is the effect of the full moon.
I know my pack and my territory with the back of my hand. I don't need eyes to navigate through it.
Returning to the pack house, I directly made my way towards the Alpha quarter.
My eyes make out the blurred outline of the person standing at the door waiting for me as I have ordered.
"Layla." My voice comes out stoic as I acknowledge her.
"Alpha." She purrs in response as she comes and stands directly in front of me.
Extending my hand, I hold her neck and then drag it down towards the middle of her chest and then move my hand lower.
I nod my head in approval as she stands naked, ready to take care of my and my wolf's needs.
"My room, now!" I order and don't wait for her to follow as I make my way towards my room.
As soon as I hear her entering the door and closing the door behind, I push her front against the wall.
"Hands on the wall." I order while removing my clothes, "Don't move." Grabbing her hips harshly, I force her to stand still.
"Take whatever you want from me..." Turning her head slightly, she smiles at me. "Don't hold back. You know I can take it."
A growl ripples through me when I partially shift into my wolf while the room echoes with her painful screams.
LucasArthur goes into war mode without letting any of the outrage seeping outside him.He stands in the middle of the corridor outside Aurora’s room, posture composed, hands clasped behind his back, expression unreadable to anyone. I know better. The calm is tight. Contained. His anger does not flare outward. It folds inward, sharp and focused, the kind that cuts clean.“Somebody was inside the house,” he says, voice level, eyes fixed on the guards lined up in front of him. “Inside Aurora’s room. And none of you were aware of it.”The guards stand straighter. One of them swallows. Another shifts his weight just a fraction, enough for me to clock nervous energy. Arthur sees it too. He sees everything right now.“Sir,” one of them says, choosing his words carefully, “nobody entered the private part of the house. As per your orders, all guests were contained in the main area.”Arthur turns slowly and points toward the open door behind us. The mess inside Aurora’s room is still visible.
LucasThe first thing that hits me when I enter Arthur’s office is the smell of smoke. Thick. Bitter. It sits in the room like it belongs here. Arthur takes another pull from his cigar and exhales slowly, eyes never leaving me as I cross the threshold. He looks exactly as he always does when he wants control. Relaxed posture. Sharp attention.The door closes behind me with a quiet finality. No echo. No drama. Just a sound that tells me this conversation is meant to stay contained.Arthur gestures toward the empty chair in front of his desk. I sit, my movements calm, my focus already dissecting the room. The bookshelf behind him. The way his fingers rest near the ashtray. The faint tension in his jaw that suggests he is expecting resistance.“So,” I say, skipping any pretense, “what is going on?”He does not answer right away. He watches me instead, like he is deciding which version of the truth to offer.“Arthur,” I continue, keeping my voice even, “I need to know everything. This is
LucasWhen Arthur called me that night, I did not pause to think. My mind knew it was related to Aurora.That is enough to make every other consideration feel small.Jack argued first. He always does when he thinks I am walking into something sharp. Mikhail backed him up, quieter but no less firm. Coming alone was a bad idea. Walking into her family’s territory without support was unnecessary risk. They were not wrong. I knew that even as I ignored them.I could not bring anyone else into this. If something went wrong, it needed to end with me. So I told them I was going alone.When I reached the estate, Arthur met me before I even fully stepped inside. He looked the same as always. Controlled. Composed. But there was something underneath it that night, something restless.He told me he was going to acknowledge my relationship with Aurora in front of everyone.Not ask. Not suggest. State.He did not give details. He did not explain the timing. He just said it needed to happen tonight.
AuroraThe aura coming off Lucas is something I have never felt before.It presses into the space around him quietly, like the room itself has decided to lean away.There is something so dangerous about him... something you can't pinpoint at, yet you can feel it in your bones.The woman is still talking when he reaches them.She is halfway through another sentence, lips pursed with that familiar mix of pity and superiority, when she notices him. Her words die mid-breath. It is almost comical, the way her confidence evaporates. Her eyes flick to his face, then past him, as if searching for backup that does not exist.Lucas smiles.It is polite. Perfectly shaped. Empty.The kind of smile that makes your stomach drop before your mind catches up. There is no warmth in it, not even a trace. Just restraint sharpened to an edge.“The woman you are talking about,” he says, voice even and clear, “is my woman.”Every sound in the room thins out. Conversations stall. Someone behind me clears the
AuroraPeople start moving toward us almost immediately. It happens in waves, like someone opened a gate and now everyone feels permitted. Smiles, nods, hands extending. Congratulations offered in soft voices and louder ones. I catch fragments as they pass through me.You look beautiful together. Such a striking pair. He suits you. She suits you.I notice the way people look at Lucas first, then at me, then back at Lucas again as if confirming something they already decided. I am used to being looked at, assessed, weighed. Tonight feels different.I always tell myself that opinions do not matter. That I do not need validation from strangers or family friends or anyone who only sees fragments of me. Most days, that is true. Tonight, though, the words slip past my defenses. They land somewhere soft.It makes me feel like I belong here beside him. Like I earned this space without having to ask for it.Because Lucas is Lucas.I know how people see him. I see it every time he walks into
AuroraEach step he takes feels like something clicking into place. The room shifts around him. Conversations lose their rhythm. Glasses pause halfway to lips. Someone laughs too loud and then stops. I catch all of it because my mind does that thing where it notices too much at once. Lucas has that kind of presence that bends attention without trying. The kind that makes rooms rearrange themselves around him. It would take a miracle for him to walk in somewhere and not pull every gaze his way.Mine.The thought hits me fast and unapologetic. A tight, possessive warmth wraps around my chest, not painful, just insistent. I watch the way his shoulders move beneath his suit jacket, how his gaze stays forward even when he knows people are staring. He does not scan the room. He does not look impressed or curious. He walks like he already knows what is about to happen next, already sure of the next move... sure of himself.The Russells stiffen first. Mr. Russells shoulders draw back a touch,







