All Chapters of Between Hate and Fate: Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

The bond has a strange way of keeping me up at night. It hums under my skin, a constant reminder that no matter how much distance I try to put between myself and Ruslan, it’ll never be enough. Even now, lying in my bed, I can feel it pulling at me, tugging me in his direction.I try to ignore it, forcing myself to close my eyes and shut out the world, but it’s no use. His presence is too strong, too consuming. And tonight, something’s different. The bond is louder, more insistent, and I can feel his emotions crashing over me in waves. The anger, the frustration—those are familiar, but there’s something else now. Something darker. Hotter.I feel it, deep in my chest, a tug that’s more insistent than the usual pull of the bond. It’s not panic or anger this time. It’s something more primal, more urgent. And it’s coming from him. I can feel his desire, hot and raw, pushing through the bond, wrapping around me like a heated coil. My breath catches, and I sit up in bed, my heart pounding.

The shackles bite into my wrists and ankles, the chains rattling with every forced step. They drag me out of the cell without a word, like I’m nothing more than an animal. The light outside is blinding, the first real sunlight I’ve seen in weeks.My eyes burn, and I have to squint just to see. The guards don’t slow down, don’t give me time to adjust. They shove me forward, arms locked in place, legs barely able to move in the tight restraints. I stumble, but catch myself before I hit the dirt. No one says a damn word to me.I’m not stupid. I know what this is. They’re taking me to my execution. I expected this day to come. Maybe not this soon, but I knew it was inevitable. A small part of me thought they might let me rot in the cell, but no. Katya must have found some loophole. Maybe the council pushed her harder than I expected.I breathe out, a strange sense of relief flooding through me. I’ve been waiting for this, waiting for the end. It’s better than being chained up, better than

I wake up feeling off, my stomach churning the second I open my eyes, a wave of nausea hitting me hard. I try to ignore it, to push through the uncomfortable sensation as I roll out of bed and head to the kitchen. It’s just morning sickness. It’ll pass.The cabin is quiet, and for a moment, I relish the stillness. It’s the only thing that feels normal anymore. I grab a pan and start making breakfast, eggs sizzling as the scent of food fills the air. But as soon as the smell hits my nose, my stomach lurches violently. I barely make it to the sink before I’m bent over, heaving, my body betraying me.I hear footsteps behind me, and I know it’s him. Ruslan. I can feel his presence before he even says anything, the bond thrumming with his concern. I don’t look at him, still bent over the sink, trying to get the nausea under control.“What’s wrong with you?” His voice is rough, almost accusing, but there’s a layer of something else beneath it. Worry.I wipe my mouth with the back of my han

I wake up feeling… different. Better, maybe. It’s a strange sensation, waking up without the anger or tension pressing down on me. Last night’s conversation with Ruslan still lingers in my mind, and though it wasn’t easy, it was civil. We talked. For once, we weren’t at each other’s throats, and the bond seems almost... satisfied. It’s still there, of course, but quieter now, less oppressive.I stretch, my muscles still stiff from sleep, and pull on my robe before padding out to the kitchen. The house is quiet, the morning sun just beginning to filter through the windows, casting a soft light across the room. Coffee first. I need the caffeine, the warmth. I fill the kettle, set it on the stove, and lean against the counter as it heats up. It’s quiet, peaceful even, and for the first time in a long time, I feel like I can breathe.Once the coffee’s made, I wrap my robe a little tighter around myself and take my cup out onto the porch. The cool morning air greets me, crisp and refresh

How could I have forgotten?I sit on the floor of my room, my knees pulled up to my chest, my fingers trembling as they grip the fabric of my robe. The sun is beginning to set, casting shadows across the walls, but I don’t move. I can’t. My heart is racing, my thoughts spiralling out of control. I feel disgusted with myself—sick to my core—because for a moment, just a fleeting, shameful moment, I forgot what Ruslan did.I forgot that he killed Andrei.How did I let that slip away? How did a few lingering stares and awkward, almost playful conversations make me lose sight of the fact that this man—the same man who’s been circling my thoughts, pulling me in with the bond—destroyed my world?My body trembles as I try to catch my breath, but it’s no use. The panic is rising, swallowing me whole. The bond, this cursed bond, is making me weak. It’s clouding everything. Making me forget that the man I’m starting to look at differently is a killer. A murderer.How could I be so stupid?I’ve