Anastasia Dad gives me a few moments to pull myself together. Neither of us is good at handling emotions, and he knows I need space before we keep going. He exhales, rubbing a hand over his chin, then finally speaks."You asked me how I know Alpha Jake. Well, I’ve known him for a few years now. Always found him to be a gentleman," he says. "The levelheaded Alpha, but their lifestyle is different. He and his group—there’s no hierarchy among them. Something I’ve never heard of in the werewolf world. But I never asked much about it, because even though they’re good, I don’t want us to mingle or get involved more than we are."I freeze at that. If things with Jake ever turn into something real, then he is going to be more than just involved. But considering how uncertain everything is right now, I should probably keep that thought to myself.I let his words settle before speaking. "I knew you two had some kind of alliance, but I didn’t know the details."He nods, crossing his arm
AnastasiaThe last couple of days have been... interesting. A lot of revelations and a lot more questions, and now my life feels like one big, tangled mess of curiosity. But at least one problem is off my list—finding Irvin.Dad has taken that responsibility off my hands. He said he’ll find out where Irvin is, and when Dad takes on something, he gets it done. No doubt about that.With that handled, I can focus on other things. Like why the hell Pete and his little gang of bootlickers have called this sudden meeting. Something tells me it’s about me.If they think they can push me out of my position, they’ve got another thing coming.They want a fight? Fine. I’ll show them exactly who they’re messing with.The hunter base looms ahead, a fortress of metal and stone tucked away where no one dares to question it.I step inside, my shoulders hunched just enough to sell the act. Mourning the death of my so-called best friend Ralph has become second nature by now. A few deep sighs, a distant
AnastasiaI press my lips together, swallowing as if I’m fighting off emotions, then glance up like I’m searching for strength from above. Swiping my fingers under my eyes, I clear away any lingering moisture. "I just hope everyone accepts me and doesn’t try to push me out of the group."I want to scoff. Like hell, they can throw me out. But I need to know where I stand and how much sway I have.Edwin puffs out his chest, his voice firm. "No one can make you leave. This is your world. Your people. This is where you rightfully belong. This base has the blood of your ancestors in its foundation, and you have every right to be here." He nods at me, conviction in his eyes. "You are one of us, Ana, and we all welcome you."I let a small, hesitant smile slip through, playing my part to perfection. But then I lower my voice, biting my lip like I’m still unsure. "Thank you for saying that, but I don’t know if everyone feels the same way."One of the other hunters, a man whose name I don’t know
AnastasiaI glance around the hall, taking in the way everyone has already settled in their seats. Every chair is taken. Not a single spot left open. A silent message, clear as day.I don’t belong.The low murmur of voices reaches my ears. Edwin and a few others whisper among themselves, their words too soft for me to catch, but the sharp edge in their tones says enough. They don’t like what Pete and his people are doing. Good. That means I’m not the only one seeing through this little game.Lifting my chin, I turn my head toward the platform. Pete watches me, his expression unreadable except for the small nod he gives. A smirk tugs at the corner of his lips like he’s waiting to see how I’ll react.I see you, Pete. I see exactly what you’re trying to do.If he wants to play petty, he should know I wrote the rulebook.Without breaking eye contact, I walk forward. The whispers grow softer, the weight of dozens of eyes pressing in from all sides, but I don’t hesitate. When I reach the fr
AnastasiaA wave of shock rolls through the room, settling thick in the air. I can see it in their faces, in the way their eyes widen and dart toward each other, searching for some kind of confirmation that they heard right. This isn’t normal...not something they see every day. But it isn’t unheard of, either.There have been times before when hunters were pushed to do something like this, forced to prove their loyalty in the most brutal way possible. Some survived. Some didn’t.My expression calm, as I hold Alvin and Pete's gaze unflinchingly, before turn my entire attention to Alvin, "Bring me the silver."Pete's face is unreadable, but his jaws tighten while uncertainty seeps into his eyes. Alvin watches me like he’s waiting for me to take it back. Like he expects me to crack, to realize what I just agreed to.Too bad for him.I may not know exactly what will happen when I drink that silver, but I know one thing for sure.I won’t lose. Especially, not to them.A few hunters shift un
AnastasiaTurning on the tap, I let the water rush out in a loud stream to cover the sound of my coughing. My hands grip the edge of the sink as I bend forward, my body shaking with each rough, tearing cough. It feels like my insides are burning like acid is eating me alive from the inside out.A sharp, metallic taste fills my mouth, and when I pull back slightly, my eyes widen at the sight of dark red streaking the white porcelain.Blood.Fuck.So, the silver did affect me.But how? It only works on wolves, and I am definitely not one.I grip the edge of the sink, my breath coming out uneven. The taste of metal lingers on my tongue, sharp and bitter. My chest feels like it’s on fire, every breath is a reminder that something isn’t right.I glance down. Blood stains the porcelain, bright and stark against the white. My fingers tremble as I turn on the faucet, watching the water swirl red before it fades down the drain.This shouldn’t be happening.I press a hand against my ribs, hoping
AnastasiaI push open the heavy wooden door and step into the meeting room adjacent to Pete’s office. The air inside is tainted with the scent of old leather and faint traces of cigarette smoke, probably from whatever hunter was here before me. A few men are already seated around the table, their eyes flicking up as I enter. Some nod in acknowledgment, others barely look at me.Fine by me.I take my seat, setting a folder down in front of me like I belong here—not like I have something to prove. My position in this mission isn’t exactly what I want. I’ve been assigned to oversee things from the base, to strategize and guide from behind the scenes. But that’s not where I need to be. I need to be out there, in the north territory, handling things myself.A slow burn spreads across my chest, a reminder of the silver from yesterday’s training. I force my hands to stay still and breathe through it. It’s not unbearable. I’ve dealt with worse. And if it does kill me… well, it won’t be today.
AnastasiaWiping away the sweat that clings to my skin, I drag the small towel across my forehead. My muscles burn, my breath still a little uneven from training, but the ache feels good. Tossing the towel over my shoulder, I turn to leave when a water bottle appears in front of my face, stopping me mid-step.Arching an eyebrow, I follow the arm holding it and find a guy nearly my age standing just a step away. Tall and lean, he has the kind of build that favors speed over brute strength. His golden hair is tied back at the nape of his neck, a few strands slipping free to frame sharp features.Glancing from him to the bottle, then back again, I cross my arms. "And you are?"Smirking like he expected the question, he tilts his head slightly. "Ethan," he says, voice calm, unhurried. "Figured you could use this."Studying him, I notice something different. He doesn’t look nervous, which is rare. Most people—especially the ones who don’t know me well—tend to tread carefully around me. But
JakeThe scent of home-cooked food lingers in the air, the moment I step into the packhouse. Warmth surrounds me... not just from the crackling fireplace but from the people inside. "Jake, look at you," a voice calls out, full of warmth and nostalgia. "All grown up, young wolf."Before I can turn, arms wrap around me in a firm but familiar hug."Hi, Aunt Crys," I say, hugging her back.Crystal pulls away just enough to look at me properly, her sharp eyes scanning my face. "You look just like your dad did at your age," she muses, shaking her head. "Same build, same eyes… And you got your mother's smile."Raymond, who has been watching quietly, lets out a low chuckle. "But he hasn't smiled yet."Crystal smirks. "Exactly. That’s why I said he got Artemis’s smile. When have you ever seen her smiling often?"That actually makes me snort, because she’s right. My mother is a lot of things, but lighthearted isn’t one of them.Uncle Raymond steps forward, nodding at me in greeting. "Atlas woul
JakeI pull a shirt over my head, barely paying attention to what I’m doing. My hands move on their own, grabbing my jacket, fixing my sleeves, but my mind is somewhere else. Or more like stuck on someone else.Anastasia.It’s been days. Maybe longer. Time doesn’t feel the same anymore. I keep telling myself to let it go, to push it aside, but the restless feeling inside me won’t quit. It sits heavy in my chest, clawing at the edges of my thoughts.I exhale, running a hand through my hair. I should be focused on the bonfire, on the pack, on the people who are still here. But even as I step into my boots, I can feel it... the unease curling in my stomach. My wolf feels it too.He has been quiet since she left. Cold. Shut down. I guess it was his way of handling things, the same way I threw myself into anything that would keep me busy. But now, there’s a shift. It’s subtle, but it’s there. A low hum of agitation under my skin, like my wolf is pacing, restless and alert.I grip the edge o
JakeHas it been ages, decades, or just days? I don’t know anymore. Time feels stuck, looping back to that moment when I gained and lost everything all at once.Anastasia. I trusted her. And then she shattered that trust. But this stupid heart of mine, it still refuses to believe she could do something like this.Even after I told her, after I made it clear how dangerous hunters are to my family, she still led one here. And now, because of that, I’ve lost the trust of someone who has been closer to me than most.Sophia.I never thought there would be a day where things felt different between us, but they do. The shift is subtle, but I feel it. Even through our bond, there’s a distance. Her walls are up, and no matter how much I try to ignore it, I can’t.I miss my sister. I miss the way things used to be. But there’s nothing I can do about it.Because she’s not wrong. Her anger isn’t misplaced. If we hadn’t gotten there in time, if we had been just a little too late… Rose could have—I
AnastasiaEthan has become my shadow, and all I want is to turn the damn lights off so I can kill it.But then again, no one else is bothering to come near me, so maybe it's not the worst thing in the world. As much as I hate having someone tailing me, at least I don’t have to deal with anyone else. It’s kinda bearable.Barely.I can tell he’s been trying to pry things out of me. The way he asks questions, how he keeps his tone light, casual, like he’s just making conversation. But I know better.To someone else, it might seem harmless. Just a guy getting to know his new partner.But I see right through it.He wants to figure me out, to pick apart my words and my reactions. He’s analyzing me, trying to piece together who I am and what he’s dealing with.Good luck with that.The mess hall hums with chatter and the clinking of utensils. People are gathered in small groups, some deep in conversation, others just eating in silence. It’s always the same. Everyone sticks to their circles, t
AnastasiaWiping away the sweat that clings to my skin, I drag the small towel across my forehead. My muscles burn, my breath still a little uneven from training, but the ache feels good. Tossing the towel over my shoulder, I turn to leave when a water bottle appears in front of my face, stopping me mid-step.Arching an eyebrow, I follow the arm holding it and find a guy nearly my age standing just a step away. Tall and lean, he has the kind of build that favors speed over brute strength. His golden hair is tied back at the nape of his neck, a few strands slipping free to frame sharp features.Glancing from him to the bottle, then back again, I cross my arms. "And you are?"Smirking like he expected the question, he tilts his head slightly. "Ethan," he says, voice calm, unhurried. "Figured you could use this."Studying him, I notice something different. He doesn’t look nervous, which is rare. Most people—especially the ones who don’t know me well—tend to tread carefully around me. But
AnastasiaI push open the heavy wooden door and step into the meeting room adjacent to Pete’s office. The air inside is tainted with the scent of old leather and faint traces of cigarette smoke, probably from whatever hunter was here before me. A few men are already seated around the table, their eyes flicking up as I enter. Some nod in acknowledgment, others barely look at me.Fine by me.I take my seat, setting a folder down in front of me like I belong here—not like I have something to prove. My position in this mission isn’t exactly what I want. I’ve been assigned to oversee things from the base, to strategize and guide from behind the scenes. But that’s not where I need to be. I need to be out there, in the north territory, handling things myself.A slow burn spreads across my chest, a reminder of the silver from yesterday’s training. I force my hands to stay still and breathe through it. It’s not unbearable. I’ve dealt with worse. And if it does kill me… well, it won’t be today.
AnastasiaTurning on the tap, I let the water rush out in a loud stream to cover the sound of my coughing. My hands grip the edge of the sink as I bend forward, my body shaking with each rough, tearing cough. It feels like my insides are burning like acid is eating me alive from the inside out.A sharp, metallic taste fills my mouth, and when I pull back slightly, my eyes widen at the sight of dark red streaking the white porcelain.Blood.Fuck.So, the silver did affect me.But how? It only works on wolves, and I am definitely not one.I grip the edge of the sink, my breath coming out uneven. The taste of metal lingers on my tongue, sharp and bitter. My chest feels like it’s on fire, every breath is a reminder that something isn’t right.I glance down. Blood stains the porcelain, bright and stark against the white. My fingers tremble as I turn on the faucet, watching the water swirl red before it fades down the drain.This shouldn’t be happening.I press a hand against my ribs, hoping
AnastasiaA wave of shock rolls through the room, settling thick in the air. I can see it in their faces, in the way their eyes widen and dart toward each other, searching for some kind of confirmation that they heard right. This isn’t normal...not something they see every day. But it isn’t unheard of, either.There have been times before when hunters were pushed to do something like this, forced to prove their loyalty in the most brutal way possible. Some survived. Some didn’t.My expression calm, as I hold Alvin and Pete's gaze unflinchingly, before turn my entire attention to Alvin, "Bring me the silver."Pete's face is unreadable, but his jaws tighten while uncertainty seeps into his eyes. Alvin watches me like he’s waiting for me to take it back. Like he expects me to crack, to realize what I just agreed to.Too bad for him.I may not know exactly what will happen when I drink that silver, but I know one thing for sure.I won’t lose. Especially, not to them.A few hunters shift un
AnastasiaI glance around the hall, taking in the way everyone has already settled in their seats. Every chair is taken. Not a single spot left open. A silent message, clear as day.I don’t belong.The low murmur of voices reaches my ears. Edwin and a few others whisper among themselves, their words too soft for me to catch, but the sharp edge in their tones says enough. They don’t like what Pete and his people are doing. Good. That means I’m not the only one seeing through this little game.Lifting my chin, I turn my head toward the platform. Pete watches me, his expression unreadable except for the small nod he gives. A smirk tugs at the corner of his lips like he’s waiting to see how I’ll react.I see you, Pete. I see exactly what you’re trying to do.If he wants to play petty, he should know I wrote the rulebook.Without breaking eye contact, I walk forward. The whispers grow softer, the weight of dozens of eyes pressing in from all sides, but I don’t hesitate. When I reach the fr