[--Kaiser Volkov--]After the meeting with the contractors wrapped up, I sat back at my desk, fingers brushing through my hair, mind drifting to what I could have for dinner. My stomach grumbled, but I was reluctant to go home to Esmarie. Lately, she hadn’t exactly been my biggest fan, and every encounter with her seemed to be a battlefield where I always ended up on the losing side. Sighing, I slumped in my chair, staring blankly at the paperwork scattered in front of me, trying to push aside the thought of another awkward evening under the same roof.My phone rang, cutting through the thick silence of my office. Glancing at the screen, I was surprised to see Esmarie’s name. We hadn’t spoken much unless it was necessary-- and those necessary words were usually hate, so her calling me out of the blue was unexpected. I hesitated for a moment, wondering what this could be about, before finally answering."Hey, um... Martha heard there was some ruckus happening at the south gate, and she
[--Esmarie Cruz--]I held on to his arm, my fingers lightly tracing over the ridges of his knuckles, feeling the warmth of his skin. His hand was large, rough in places, and yet still gentle in a way I hadn't forgotten. My eyes slowly traveled over the thick muscle of his arm, the veins that ran like rivers beneath his skin, and the tattoo that curled around his forearm, a permanent mark of a past he never really let me in on. He smelled different now too, like a mixture of pine, smoke, and something earthy, something that wasn’t there before. Time had changed him, in more ways than one."Martha and I spoke," I said, breaking the silence that had hung between us like a fragile thread. My voice was soft, and careful, but there was an edge to it. "Why didn’t you tell me they used to hurt you?”Kaiser tensed immediately. I felt it ripple through his body, saw it in the slight tightening of his jaw, and the way his fingers twitched against mine. His eyes, once so clear and vibrant, darken
[--Kaiser Volkov--]Her laughter was strange, almost foreign. It wasn’t the carefree kind of laughter I’d expected or remembered, though I couldn’t quite put my finger on why it unsettled me. I hadn’t thought about her laugh in years—why was it even on my mind now? She wasn’t some old flame, not someone who left a lasting mark on my life. Sure, we’d kissed once, but that was nothing. I’ve kissed—and slept with—a lot of people since then. Yet, something about the sound of her laugh made me feel... off.“I have a patio out back,” I said, trying to shake the strange feeling from my mind. “With a pool. Wanna sit out there and drink?”She wrinkled her nose, giving me a hesitant look. “Sure, but I’ve never actually drank alcohol before. I’m kind of nervous about it. But the twins—”“Baby monitor,” I interjected, cutting off her excuse with a half-smile. “We’ll keep an eye on them from there. Hovering over them all night will only make you more anxious.”As soon as I said it, I felt a pang o
[--Esmarie Cruz--]Kaiser didn’t really open up to me, not in the way I had hoped. Sure, he confirmed that he’d been through abuse, but instead of talking about it in detail, he deflected, steering the conversation toward drinking. I let it slide. Maybe it wasn’t the time to push too hard. The weight of the truth was there between us, but it floated, unspoken, just beneath the surface. The pool water was surprisingly warm for the time of night, and the drink—sharp and unfamiliar—settled in my stomach, creating a slow heat that spread through my limbs. Not that I was a connoisseur or anything. This was one of my first experiences with alcohol, and I didn’t really know what “the best” was supposed to taste like.We sat there for a while, nursing our drinks and dipping our toes into the water, the quiet hum of the evening wrapping around us like a blanket. Eventually, the edges of the world started to blur. My head felt light, and the wooziness set in, like I was floating in the pool wit
[--Esmarie Cruz--]I woke up with a pounding ache in my head, and the throbbing felt like someone had taken a sledgehammer to my skull. God, I was never drinking again. Not if it made me feel like this—like my head was about to explode from the pressure. It wasn’t just a dull ache; it was a relentless, stabbing sensation behind my eyes, making every inch of movement feel like a monumental effort. My mouth was dry as sandpaper, my tongue thick like it was made of cotton, and there was this awful taste lingering, reminding me of the stupidity of last night’s decisions. But I’m a mother of two; I didn’t have the luxury of just lying there feeling sorry for myself, no matter how much I wanted to. My kids were out there, somewhere in the house, waiting for me.I groaned, willing myself to get up, but my body had other plans. I swung my legs off the bed and tried to stand up, only to immediately lose my balance and fall to the floor with a heavy thud. The jolt sent a sharp wave of pain thro
[--Kaiser Volkov--]Yesterday was... interesting, to say the least. Esmarie, for the first time in what felt like forever, drank with me. She didn’t argue, didn’t throw any sarcastic barbs my way, and for a few hours, it almost felt like we were normal again. Almost. I know it doesn’t fix things, and I know the quiet that settled between us isn’t a solution, but maybe it’s a start. Maybe we’ve finally found some kind of truce. I’m not sure how long it’ll last, and I don’t kid myself into thinking that everything is suddenly fine between us. There’s still too much under the surface—her trauma, the weight she’s carrying that she doesn’t like to talk about. Just like i don’t like to talk about mine. I like secrets.I hate when people make you feel bad for not being honest or telling them everything. Like fuck, are you a goddamn therapist? Fuck you and your feelings.She’s a fortress, Esmarie, all walls and defenses. I’m not under any illusion that I can just bulldoze my way through them.
[--Kaiser Volkov--]I arrived at eleven-thirty, not because I couldn’t get there on time, but because I didn’t want to get there early. There’s a certain satisfaction in showing up late, letting the anticipation build in the room without you, making sure they wait. I pulled up on my bike, the engine cutting through the eerie stillness of the night as I coasted to a stop outside the bar. It was strange—there was no usual chatter spilling out, no music thrumming through the walls. I swung my leg over the bike, took off my helmet, and balanced it on the seat before pulling the keys from the ignition. With a final glance around the unusually quiet street, I walked inside.As the door creaked open, an unsettling silence greeted me. The bar, usually buzzing with life and energy at this hour, was practically dead. What the hell? It wasn’t even midnight, and the place looked like a ghost town. My eyes scanned the room, trying to piece together what was going on, and that’s when I saw him—Elia
[--Esmarie Cruz--]The man had been pacing back and forth in front of the gate for what felt like hours. From the upstairs window, I had a clear view of him, dressed head-to-toe in black leather. His pants and jacket gleamed under the dim streetlight, and what unsettled me most was the skull mask obscuring his face. He never looked up, never stopped to survey his surroundings—just kept walking in those deliberate, measured steps, like he was waiting for something. I kept watching him, transfixed by the eerie, repetitive motion, unsure if I should feel threatened or if this was some strange coincidence. But everything about him, from the way he moved to his ominous outfit, set off alarm bells in my mind.I was still standing by the window, feeling my pulse quicken with each turn he made when Kaiser, ever so calm and collected, stepped into the room. He didn't say anything at first, just gave me that look that told me everything I needed to know: he’d seen the man too. The knot of fear
[--Kaiser Volkov--]I'm not entirely sure when Esmarie and I rounded off our conversation and made our way back into the house, but we did. It felt like one of those surreal moments where the world fades into the background, and for once, everything just clicks. I couldn’t stop replaying her words in my head, letting them wash over me like a balm to wounds I didn’t even realize were still open. The thought of being allowed to have a relationship with her—being given that chance—made something in my chest tighten in a way I wasn’t used to.It was all part of my grand scheme to seduce her, and it worked out well.Tch. Part of me wanted to punch the air, another part wanted to groan because I could practically hear my wolf laughing at me. There wasn’t some master plan to seduce her. I hadn’t been sitting around with a blueprint labeled Operation Win Esmarie’s Heart—but here I was, somehow making progress despite myself. Despite the universe actively choosing to expose all of my darkest
[--Esmarie Cruz--]After the festivities of the evening, watching the vibrant fireworks and basking under the serene glow of the blue moon, Kaiser drove us back home. The ride was a quiet one, the kind of silence that feels natural after a long and eventful day. I felt a sense of peace, mixed with exhaustion and a tinge of happiness. The twins were snug in their car seats, their soft breaths barely audible but enough to remind me of their comforting presence. Kaiser seemed at ease as he drove, his usual stern features softened by what I could only describe as contentment.There wasn’t much to say between us, and the silence stretched comfortably. I found myself lost in the hum of the car’s engine, my thoughts wandering back to the festival. The glow of the moon, the music, the laughter of the crowd—all of it replayed in my mind like a pleasant daydream. Every now and then, I would glance at Kaiser, trying to decipher his thoughts, but his focus remained on the road, his expression unr
[--Esmarie Cruz--]I sat at Martha's booth, working alongside her and spending the majority of the day helping to feed people. It wasn’t something I had expected to enjoy, but as the hours went by, I found myself actually looking forward to it. The rhythm of chopping, stirring, and serving felt comforting in a way I hadn't anticipated. The people who stopped by were all so kind, and their smiles after tasting the food made it all the more rewarding. Each compliment was like a small victory, and by the time the afternoon began to fade, I was proud of what we had accomplished. The booth was buzzing with energy, the air filled with the mingling scents of freshly cooked dishes. But underneath the pleasant hum of conversation and laughter, there was an underlying current of nervous excitement in me. The twilight ceremony was only a few hours away.I was both nervous and excited. It was my first time experiencing the twilight ceremony. The anticipation, the magic of it all, stirred somethin
[--Esmarie Cruz--]The next morning, I woke up nestled in Kaiser’s arms. The sensation was disorienting—unfamiliar yet oddly comforting. My first instinct was to pull away, but a part of me hesitated, feeling a strange sense of safety I hadn’t expected. The light filtered through the curtains, bathing the room in soft hues, and I could feel his slow, steady breathing as he stirred awake beside me. His eyes fluttered open, meeting mine briefly before we both groaned in unison. It wasn’t irritation or frustration; it was more of an unspoken agreement to set aside whatever had happened the night before. Without exchanging a single word, we moved apart, a mutual understanding that today would start fresh as if yesterday’s events were a story meant to be rewritten.I slipped out of the blanket- not sure where it came from, the chill of the morning air hitting my skin, and began to stretch the stiffness from my body. Kaiser rolled onto his back, running a hand through his tousled hair, befo
[--Kaiser Volkov--]After Esmarie sobbed into my arms, her body trembling as if her emotions had drained every ounce of strength she had left, I let her stay there, holding her tightly. My shirt was damp from her tears, but I didn’t care. I didn’t want to let go, not yet. She needed this moment, and, truth be told, so did I. There’s something about seeing someone you care about break down in front of you that makes you want to fight the entire world to make it right.She said some words to me, but it didn’t really feel like we were speaking about it. She had been focused on me rather than what I had revealed. God, I consider my luck turning. If not, there’s no reason for her to be in my arms instead of across the street screaming bloody murder at me.Once her breathing evened out and her sobs softened, I hesitated before speaking. I knew what I had to say would only add to the storm swirling in her mind, but I couldn’t keep it from her. Not now. Not when I was trying so damn hard to p
[--Esmarie Cruz--]I dropped to my knees, the weight of everything hitting me all at once. My legs buckled beneath me as if they couldn't support the burden of the truth Kaiser had just revealed. I clutched at his arms, fingers trembling as they gripped the fabric of his shirt. My chest heaved with ragged breaths, and I fought to keep the overwhelming emotions from spilling out all at once."I'm sorry," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. The words cracked as they left his lips, soft and almost hesitant. He didn’t move to embrace me right away, though I could feel the tension in his arms. His restraint was deliberate, his way of giving me the space I might need to process this. It was so him, but not him at the same time. Sometimes careful careful, sometimes he thinks of me first. And yet, his quietness only made it harder. It made me feel annoyed at myself for not being more pissed off at him.What is this weakness of an emotion?I shook as waves of emotion rolled through me—a
[--Esmarie Cruz--]I didn’t think it was possible for things in my life to go from bad to worse. I honestly didn’t think that was possible.There are a million things I expected to hear from Kaiser in my lifetime, but none of them were the words that just came out of his mouth. My breath caught, and before I knew it, tears streamed down my face, silent but unrelenting. Throughout my years with the Darkwood family, I’d been told that my mother had abandoned me. That she’d disappeared because she wanted nothing to do with me. Barry made sure I believed that. He’d drilled it into my mind that she was cruel and only loved herself and money, that she’d walked away without looking back.While most of that was true, turns out that he’s not just a sadistic bastard but he’s a lying bitch who had always wanted to keep me trapped.Now, hearing the truth—that Kaiser was the one who killed her because they made him do it—it shattered me. Completely. My chest ached, and I could barely see through m
[--Kaiser Volkov--]I drove to Martha's house late in the night, almost midnight, exhaustion clinging to me like a second skin. My bones ached from the day's relentless grind, and my mind was teetering between shutting down and spiraling out of control. As I pulled into the driveway, I spotted the faint glow of the living room lights through the curtains. It didn’t surprise me to find Esmarie awake, sitting on the floor with her twins, who were transfixed by whatever cartoon Martha had queued up on the TV. Their big, drooling smiles and bubbling laughter were a stark contrast to how drained I felt. It was oddly comforting—just for a moment, anyway.Martha’s house always smelled the same: a blend of lavender air freshener and whatever was baking in her oven earlier that day. Which might have been nothing since she cooked at my house. Her place always smells like there’s a new meal in the oven waiting to be brought out.Tonight, it smelled faintly of cinnamon. I stood in the doorway, wat
[--Kaiser Volkov--]I met up with the assassin I’d hired after sending Esmarie home with Martha. The meeting was held in a secluded alley just outside the pack, the kind of place where shadows seemed to linger a little longer and the air always smelled faintly of damp concrete and regret. The man, tall and broad-shouldered, wore a plain black jacket and a hood that obscured most of his face. Not that it mattered—we didn’t need formalities, not in this line of work.When he approached, he didn’t say a word, and neither did I. We both understood the weight of unspoken agreements. He reached into his jacket and pulled out a thick envelope, holding it out with a steady hand. I nodded as I took it from him, a brief acknowledgment passing between us. No gratitude, no farewells. Just business. He turned on his heel and disappeared down the darkened alley, his steps quiet but deliberate.Wolves like him kill for cash—efficient, detached, and dangerous. He wasn’t the type to do favors, but our