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.
JuneBy the time I lose count, I know I have circled this mat at least twenty times.Maybe more.My sneakers hit the surface in a rhythm that used to feel freeing. I have always loved running. The rush of air in my lungs. The stretch in my legs. The way everything else fades except motion.This does not feel like that.This feels like punishment stretched thin.“Twenty-five,” Caleb calls out calmly from somewhere behind me.I grit my teeth.He stopped counting out loud after fifteen. Now he only throws numbers in when I slow down half a second or let my irritation show on my face.Which means he is watching closely.My muscles burn. Not the pleasant warmth of effort, but the sharp heat of being pushed past the point of usefulness. My calves ache. My thighs feel tight. Sweat slides down my spine beneath my shirt.I round another corner.This is trivial.Running laps.Like I am some first year who needs to build stamina.Humiliation creeps in slowly, unwanted and sharp. It is not that I
JuneI reach the training area right on time.The doors are already open, cool morning air drifting in through the wide windows along the far wall. The space smells faintly of metal, sweat, and polished wood. Mats stretch across most of the floor, dark and smooth. Racks of weapons line one side in careful order. Pale sunlight spills across the room.He is already here.Of course he is.Caleb stands near the center of the room in black training pants and a fitted shirt that pulls across his shoulders. His back is to me at first. Relaxed. Waiting.I step inside, my sneakers brushing softly against the mats.Then I stop.He is not alone.Heat ignites in my chest before I can control it.Kylie stands too close to him.Her long blonde hair falls perfectly over one shoulder. Even at this hour she looks polished. She tilts her head as she laughs at something while he looks disinterested. The sound is light and airy, practiced. Her fingers trail through the air as she talks, and then she bats
JuneI wake slowly, like I am rising through thick water.A low, silent groan slips past my lips before I can stop it.Everything hurts.Not a sharp pain. Not one single injury. It is everywhere. My arms ache. My legs throb. My back feels tight and overworked. Even my fingers feel tender when I try to curl them. It is like I have done the most intense workout of my life and every bone and muscle is protesting.I keep my eyes closed for a moment, breathing through it.Whenever I shift back to myself, my body is sensitive for a couple of hours. My skin feels thinner. My nerves feel exposed. The air brushing against me is too much. The soil beneath me feels too rough.This is not new.It happens every time my body changes back to human form.I love that I am different. I do. I love that there is something powerful inside me, something fierce and loyal and strong.I just wish it did not come with such excruciating pain.I swallow and shift slightly, wincing as my shoulder protests.Somewh
June I keep running. With every passing moment my paws touch the earth, my speed increases. It feels natural, like I was always meant to move this way. Muscles stretch and contract with perfect rhythm. Air rushes into my lungs, cool and sharp, filling me with something close to joy. It is exhilarating. The forest opens ahead of me and I weave through it without thinking. I leap over fallen logs. I cut around thick trunks. My body knows where to go before my mind even registers the path. I forget about everything. There are no thoughts here. Just motion. Just wind slipping through my fur and the soft thud of paws hitting soil. I chase nothing and everything at once, simply because I can. This feeling of liberation wraps around me and pulls me forward. Sometimes I wish I did not have to contain this part of me for so long. I wish I did not have to measure my days by how well I can keep her quiet. I wish I did not have to wait for darkness and distance and secrecy. I wish I had
JuneI wake up already tired.Not the kind of tired that comes from sore muscles or lack of sleep. This is different. It sits under my skin, hums in my chest, makes my thoughts sharper than they need to be.The room is quiet when I open my eyes. Pale light slips through the curtains. For a moment, I lie there and stare at the ceiling, trying to breathe through the tightness building inside me.It is too early for this.I swing my legs over the side of the bed and sit up. My pulse feels louder than usual. My fingers curl into the sheets, then release. I roll my shoulders, trying to shake it off.Practice starts in thirty minutes.By the time I step onto the training field, the air is crisp and cool. Others are already there, stretching, talking in low voices. I keep to myself like I always do. A quick nod here. A brief glance there.The drills begin.We run first. Laps around the perimeter. My feet hit the dirt in rhythm, breath moving in and out. Normally the motion helps. Normally it
CalebI know I have a temper.It flares fast, burns hot, and sometimes I speak before I think. I have know this all my life. This is how I am.But damn, watching June walk toward Kylie when she was about to shift lights up my fuse like nothing else.We have been told since we were pups to never go near anyone in the middle of a shift. It is one of the first rules drilled into us. Bones break. Control slips. Instinct takes over. Even the gentlest wolf can lash out without meaning to. The outcome can turn devastating in a blink.And June was already too close.Kylie was trembling, her body caught between human and wolf, pain twisting her features. A few people stood back, giving her space. That is what we are supposed to do.June stepped closer.Closer.My chest tightened so hard it felt like something snapped inside me. What was she thinking? Did she not understand the risk?When she took another step, I did not think. I moved.I jumped in between them, my body planting itself like a s







