Mikhail Hearing Rose's cries was one of the most painful things that I could have ever experienced... and trust me, I have experienced hell. I felt so helpless and angry because there was nothing I could do. Her grip on me not once loosened as if she was still scared that someone might hurt her, and it broke my heart. The face on which I have always seen a bright, mischievous smile was coated with fear.So I can't even imagine how Sophia might be feeling when Rose feared her as well, it must have devastated her. The moment I step into the living room with Rose cradled in my arms, I feel the weight of Sophia’s eyes on me. Her presence is like gravity—impossible to ignore, even from across the room. But now all I can think about is Sophia. I lower myself onto the couch as gently as I can, careful not to wake Rose. She shifts slightly in her sleep, her little head resting against me, completely unaware of the chaos that almost consumed us both. I feel the low rumble of my wolf,
SophiaI still feel the heat of his touch, the way his lips melded against mine, desperate and raw, yet it only deepened the ache inside me. Could I trust him? Could I trust a man who shattered me?What is the guarantee that he will not once again break my heart? The weight of Mikhail's kiss lingers on my lips, a confusing mix of comfort and pain. But somewhere, my heart knows that there is no turning back because the sincerity that I have felt through his actions has managed to crack the walls that I had built around my heart.I turn my gaze away from Mikhail before he can catch me staring at him as he stands near the window and looks outside.Rose shifts in her sleep, her small body curled up on the couch. The innocence on her face, untouched by the horrors we’ve faced, soothes a part of me. But my heart clenches painfully when I remember how she recoiled from me earlier—how her eyes filled with fear, the same fear I saw in the eyes of the enemies I've defeated. My own daughter was
Sophia Mikhail and Jake instantly stop talking and turn to me when I step outside the house. The bright light of the afternoon sun causes me to squint as I walk toward them.Mikhail subtly shifted in front of me, shielding my eyes from the sun's glare. When I glance at Jake, he has a teasing look in his eyes as he raises his eyebrows at me questioningly. Embarrassment coats my face, and I try my best to hide the blush because everything feels so awkward. But I guess I failed because now even Mikhail has a hint of a playful smile on his lips.Jake, sensing my awkwardness, clears his throat and turns serious before he speaks."Sophia, I feel it is time that you should tell Rose about Mikhail. She should know that he is her father. We all can see she already loves him, and somewhere, she recognizes him as someone who is strongly connected to her. We can see the connection between them from the moment they have met, earlier, we couldn't understand why, but now we know the reason." Jake gl
SophiaSince the moment Rose was born, I promised myself to protect her from every pain and harm. That even included keeping her away from her father because I didn't trust him to accept her. I was afraid of her sharing the same fate as mine.But Mikhail proved me wrong.He loves Rose, and there is no doubt about it. The way he looks at her, the bond they already share—it’s undeniable. And it fills me with an emotion I can’t quite explain.There’s a part of me- the selfish part-that still wants to keep Rose all to myself, that protective instinct that tells me she’s mine and only mine. But I know that’s not fair.Not to her and certainly not to Mikhail.They belong to each other too, and it’s time I fully accept that.Rose is just waking up, and momentarily, fear grips my heart as her sleepy eyes look at me. I still can't entirely shake away the image of her fearful eyes looking at me. Picking her up, I hold her while slightly rocking her.But when her eyes meet mine, all I see is tru
SophiaSince that moment when Rose called Mikhail "Dada," the weight that I had carried on my heart for so long has lifted, but only partially.Seeing the two of them bond so easily, so naturally, brings me happiness I didn't expect. Rose needs him, and as much as I feared this moment, I know that their relationship is important. Mikhail has a right to be a part of her life, and she has a right to know him as her father.But me?I find myself pulling back.It's not something obvious—at least, I don't think it is. I still smile, laugh, and share in their little moments together. When Rose reaches for him with those tiny arms, her bright eyes full of joy, I can't help but feel relief. I want this for her, for them. But when it's just Mikhail and me, a distance settles between us, unspoken but heavy. I'm careful not to let it show too much, yet the space is there. I know he senses it, but he hasn't said anything. Not yet.How could I not put distance between us? I still remember the pain
SophiaI can’t find my voice, the words tangled in my throat. I want to ask him what he means, why he’s saying this now, but the look in his eyes stops me. It’s raw, unguarded, and it holds something I haven’t seen in him for a long time—vulnerability.I glance at Rose, her tiny body curled up on the couch, breathing softly, completely unaware of the chaos swirling inside me. This tension between Mikhail and me isn’t just about us anymore. Rose is in the middle of it, and that thought burns more than anything else.I stand up, needing to move, needing space to think, but Mikhail steps in front of me before I can make it to the door. His expression is unreadable, his eyes searching mine for something I’m not sure I can give.“Sophia, we need to talk. Really talk. This—what we’re doing—it’s not working. We can't avoid our past forever.” He’s right. We can’t keep avoiding the conversation, skirting around the things that need to be said. It’s not just our lives hanging in the balance any
SophiaThe silence between us lingers, but it's no longer as suffocating as it was before. Mikhail's confession—raw, vulnerable, and painfully honest—left me reeling, but also… lighter. It's not forgiveness, not yet, but maybe it's the start of something.A new beginning? I don’t know.He stays quiet beside me as we walk back through the woods, the tension that once hung heavy between us, easing into something softer.Not quite peace, but not war either.The wind has settled, leaving a soft, cool breeze that dances through the trees, rustling the leaves in a way that almost feels like the world is finally exhaling along with me.I glance at him, catching his eyes for just a second before looking away, pretending to focus on the path ahead. I feel his gaze on me, the intensity of it. There’s something different in his expression now—determination, maybe? Or is it hope?Stopping, I bend down to pick up one of the wildflowers I often take whenever I take this path.I look up just in time
MikhailThe scent of them is like a poison cloud, thick and heavy in the air. Hunters, their presence a constant threat, a shadow that lingers in the corners of our world. I crouch lower, my muscles tense, my wolf snarling inside me, a caged beast eager to be unleashed.Jake and Caleb are beside me, their breaths coming in ragged gasps, the weight of the situation pressing down on us. We're outnumbered, but that won't stop me.I can hear their voices now, faint but clear, a chorus of low growls and hushed whispers. They're circling, closing in, their intentions as clear as the moonlit sky above.I raise my head, my eyes scanning the darkness. I can see their shapes, shadowy figures moving through the trees, their weapons glinting in the moonlight. They're hunters, but they're not like the hunters we've faced before. These are different, their eyes filled with a feral hunger, a thirst for blood.They charge, their screams echoing through the forest, a chilling sound that sends a shiver
AnastasiaI frown slightly, confused by Jake’s reaction. He still looks like he’s trying to solve some complicated puzzle in his head, his brows drawn together as if what I just said doesn’t make any sense to him.“Okay… what’s wrong?” I ask, tilting my head.Jake shakes his head slowly, his gaze still locked on me like he’s studying something he can’t quite figure out. “Nothing. Just… what you said surprised me.”I cross my arms. “Why?”He hesitates for a second, then exhales. “Because humans don’t usually have such strong senses.”I study him, trying to read what he isn’t saying. He looks almost… baffled, like I just told him I could hear colors or something. It feels like there’s more to this reaction than he’s letting on, but maybe I’m just overthinking it.I shrug, pushing the weird tension aside. “Well, I’ve always had sharper senses than most people. Ever since I was a baby, actually.” I glance at him. “Especially my nose. I pick up scents super easily. It’s kind of annoying so
AnastasiaThe second Jake’s lips touch mine, something shifts inside me. It is not just a kiss—it is a pull, a force wrapping around my heart and tugging me toward him like I have no choice but to give in. It is overwhelming, like gravity itself has changed, and he is the center of it. The longer he kisses me, the stronger it gets, until I don’t know if I should fight it or let it take me wherever it wants.I have heard and read about kisses before. How they can be full of passion, need, grief, hunger, love. How they can demand or offer, hurt or heal. But nothing could have prepared me for this. This feeling has no name. It is raw, deep, and consuming, wrapping around me like fire and drowning me all at once.I don’t know what to do with it.His lips move against mine, and every part of me feels awake, alive in a way I have never known. It is too much and not enough at the same time. My fingers curl into his shirt, holding onto him without thinking, like I am afraid letting go will br
AnastasiaSophia has let me borrow some of her clothes since we wear the same size. I’m relieved when I go through them and realize her style is pretty close to mine. She picks comfort over everything else, just like I do. No flashy stuff, no weirdly tight outfits that make it hard to breathe... just simple, easy clothes that feel like me.Hurriedly, I tug on the jeans and my hands move fast, my pulse a little too quick, but I ignore it. This isn’t a big deal. I’m just... curious. That’s all.Jake shifting into his wolf shouldn’t be interesting. I’ve seen it before. Plenty of times. And every single time, it meant a fight, blood, and making sure I walked away instead of them. But now? The thought of seeing him shift makes something stir inside me.I tell myself it’s just because I want to see if he’s different. That’s it. Nothing else.Taking a steady breath, I pull open the door and step out, only to freeze when I find him already there, leaning against the opposite wall like he’s be
AnastasiaSteam curls around me, thick and hazy, clinging to my skin like a second layer. The water rushes over my shoulders, hot enough to sting, but I barely notice. My mind is somewhere else.I drag my fingers over my ribs, tracing the faint lines where deep wounds should be. Almost like a day before, they were raw, torn open, pulsing with pain. Now? Nothing but thin, almost invisible marks. If I hadn’t seen the blood, felt the sharp bite of the injury, I’d think I imagined the whole thing.This isn’t normal. No one heals this fast.I press my palm flat against my side, half-expecting some kind of pain to remind me it’s real, that I didn’t just dream it. But there’s nothing. Just smooth skin and a lingering unease curling in my stomach.It is not just physical healing... something inside me also feels different. There’s a strange lightness inside me, like some invisible weight has been lifted off my shoulders. It’s not something I can explain, just this… feeling. Like I had been ca
AnastasiaJake rests his head against mine, his breath warm and steady. For a moment, neither of us move. I tell myself I should push him away, that I should put space between us, but my body betrays me. Instead, I find myself leaning into him, just slightly, just enough to feel the weight of him against me.I don’t know what’s happening, but something about the way he exhales, like he’s carrying something too heavy, tugs at something deep inside me. The distress in him does something to me, something I don’t want to name.Yeah, real good, Anastasia. A few minutes ago, I was ready to kill him, and now I want to comfort him? What the hell is wrong with me?Damn him for making me this confused, emotional mess. I don’t even know if confused-emotioned-person is a real word, but it sure as hell describes exactly what I feel right now.Is he sniffing me?I freeze, my whole body going still as I feel his breath near my neck. My heart stumbles in my chest, unsure whether to speed up or stop co
AnastasiaThe silence stretches, thick and heavy. I stand perfectly still, barely breathing, listening. The feeling of being watched presses against my skin, raising every hair on my arms. My pulse thuds in my ears, but I don’t let it distract me.Whoever... or whatever is out there, they’re good. No obvious movement, no careless sounds. But I know better than to trust the quiet.I let my body relax just enough to lull them into thinking I don’t sense them. My hand stays loose around the knife in my pocket, my feet shifting slightly like I might just turn around and head back inside.A trick. A test.And then—there.A flicker of something just beyond the trees, barely more than a shadow against the darker night. My eyes snap to it, and my instincts scream.I don’t hesitate.I move fast, charging toward the presence with steady, even steps. The crunch of leaves under my feet is the only sound as I close the distance, heart pounding, mind sharp.The air changes. A shift, like the forest
AnastasiaEver since I woke up here, one thought won’t leave me alone.Why hasn’t anyone come looking for me?Thankfully, I lied to Mom and Dad before I left. Told them I was heading to a music festival in the next town and wouldn’t be home for a week or so. They won’t be looking for me. Won’t be worried. Because I couldn’t tell them the truth.I couldn’t tell them I was going on a mission with the other hunters.If I had, Dad might have actually forgiven me for once, but Mom? She would have put two bullets in me before I even got out the door.Okay, maybe I’m exaggerating. But still. Mom would have almost killed me.I know if they knew, they would have found me by now. Hell, they wouldn’t have even let me go missing in the first place.But they don’t know.The people who do know, the ones who should have been looking, the ones who swore to have my back... where the hell are they?This place is the closest set of houses near the woods where we were. If my team realized I was missing,
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 di