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.
June I finish wiping the last table by the window, the one that always gets fingerprints no matter how many times I clean it. The café is quiet now, the kind of quiet that only comes after closing. Chairs are flipped upside down, lights dimmed to a soft yellow, the smell of coffee still hanging in the air like it refuses to leave.I like this part of the shift. No customers, no small talk, no pretending I am softer than I am. Just work and the quiet hum of the fridge in the back.I rinse the cloth, wring it out, and hang it where it belongs. Countertops are clean. Pastry case wiped down. Cups stacked just right so the morning crew will not complain. I double check the espresso machine, run water through it, wipe the steam wand until it shines. Everything ready for tomorrow, like the place can wake up without me.I check the clock above the register.Too late. Or close enough to it.If I do not leave now, I will miss it. I turn off the last light and head to the staff locker room.The
CalebI walk up the gravel path toward the main facility, boots crunching underfoot, jacket unzipped because I ran here without meaning to. Old habit. The building sits wide and solid against the treeline, steel and stone mixed with old pack symbols carved above the doors. Jake’s idea. Honor the past while preparing for whatever hell is coming next.A couple of trainers are already outside, running warmups with a group of young wolves. Some of them notice me and straighten like they’ve just spotted trouble.“Morning, Caleb,” one of them calls.I lift a hand and nod. That’s all they get. I’m not here to chat. I’m not here to inspire. I head straight for the entrance like I always do.Inside, the sounds hit me at once. Feet pounding mats. Commands being barked. The crack of fists against pads. Jake’s office is at the far end of the hall. I don’t knock. Never have.Lucas is already inside, leaning against the desk, arms crossed, eyes sharp as ever. Jake stands by the window with a table
I am running before anyone tells me to.Cold air slices my lungs. Trees blur. The forest smells like iron and wet bark and something sharp enough to make my pulse jump. Good. That means there is trouble. Trouble means movement. Movement means I can forget everything else.My wolf loves this part. The burn in my legs. The way the world narrows to speed and sound and instinct. I vault a fallen log, land wrong, feel my ankle scream. I don’t slow. Pain is a suggestion. I ignore suggestions.The scent gets stronger. Three rogues, maybe four. Not smart enough to mask themselves. I grin even as my chest tightens. This is the kind of math I like. Simple. Me versus whatever thinks it can cross our territory.They don’t see me until it’s too late.I shift mid-stride, bones snapping, skin tearing, the familiar rush crashing through me like lightning. My wolf slams into the first body hard enough to knock the air out of him. The second lunges. I catch him by the throat. My claws go in deep. Hot b
AuroraThump. Thump. Thump.My heart keeps a rhythm like it is practicing for something important. It presses against my ribs, impatient, curious, refusing to calm down. I notice it the same way I notice everything lately, like my body is a room I am walking through, touching the walls just to make sure they are real.Sophia stands in front of me with safety pins held between her teeth, brows pulled together in focus. She adjusts the back of my dress with careful fingers, tugging once, then again, checking the fall of the fabric like she is solving a puzzle. Her hands pause. She tilts her head. One more pin. Then she steps back.There it is. Her smile. The satisfied kind. The one that means she approves.I look down at myself. The dress feels heavier than I expected, not in a bad way. More like it carries meaning stitched into it. I smooth my palms over the fabric without thinking. My fingers tremble a little. I pretend not to notice.The door opens without warning.Anastasia barg
LucasI straighten my bowtie and tilt my head a fraction to the left, then back to center. The angle matters. Three degrees off and it looks careless. Two degrees too tight and it pinches the collar in a way that shows up in photos. I fix it once more and stop. Any more and it turns into a tell.The clock on the wall ticks every second. Not loud. Precise. I count six ticks, then ignore it. The mirror gives me what I expect. Grey suit, clean lines, shoulders sitting right. I don’t smile at myself. I don’t need to. This is correct.Reid sits on the couch with his small shoes lined up heel to heel, copying the way he saw me do it earlier. He glances up at me, then at Mikhail, then back at me. He nods once, like he’s approving a plan.Jake stands close, not hovering, just present. Big brother energy. He watches me adjust my cuffs and says nothing, which is how I know he’s satisfied. If something were wrong, he would already be fixing it.Alexei finally lifts Emmet, who immediately grabs h
AuroraI wake slowly, the way I do when my body feels heavier than usual because my body is still recovering from injuries, like sleep doesn’t want to let go yet. My eyes open to the familiar ceiling, the faint crack near the corner that I always count when I can’t rest. I never let anyone remove this crack, because it is the only imperfect thing in my perfect room...The thing which makes it look like part of my world.Morning light spills in through the window, soft enough that it doesn’t hurt.I stay still for a moment. Breathing. Listening.Then I turn my head.Lucas is on the floor beside the bed, stretched out on his side in his wolf form. His fur is dark against the wood, one ear tilted back like he fell asleep halfway through listening for danger. His chest rises and falls in an easy rhythm. One paw rests near the leg of the bed, close enough that it feels intentional, like even sleeping he needs to know where I am.A smile spreads across my face before I can stop it.Of course







