SophiaAfter breakfast, I decided to visit Elder Merope with the hope that she could help me find answers. Since I had never visited her before, I asked for her address from Mikhail.Initially, Mikhail was not happy that I wanted to visit her place because she lives a little away from the main pack and near the pack's territory, but when I assured him that I would inform him instantly if I found anything unusual then, he agreed to let me go without him.As I make my way down the trail, the scent of pine and damp earth wraps around me. A few pack members pass by, offering respectful nods and smiles.One of the older she-wolves waves at me."Good Morning, Luna." She bows her head and smiles at me."Morning." Smiling at her, I walk to her."Would you like to try some of my freshly baked cookies?" She looks at me, hopefully."Of course, I can smell your cookies from quite far away." Momentarily, closing my eyes, I inhale and smile at her. "They smell delicious."She beams at me, eyes crin
Sophia"Sophia." Elder Merope looks at me warmly, "I am sure there was some reason why you came here to visit me today." There is a knowing glint in her gaze."Yes." Sighing, I run my hand through my hair and nod my head. "Something doesn't feel right." She silently gaze at me for a few moments, before she gestures for me to follow her to the back of the room where a wide window overlooks a small, flourishing garden. The space is filled with pots of all sizes, some spilling over with herbs and flowers that I don't recognize, their leaves brushing against one another in a soft rustle. Sunlight streams through the glass, painting everything in golden hues."These plants are special," Merope explains as she picks up a small watering can and hands it to me. "They require care and attention, but they give back much more than they take."I take the can, feeling the cool metal in my palm, and move to the nearest pot—a cluster of deep purple blooms that seem to shimmer when the light catches
SophiaAbruptly, there is a knock on the door, sharp and insistent.Before I can even blink, the door swings open, and there he is—Mikhail. His tall figure fills the doorway, eyes locked on me with that familiar intensity that makes my pulse race.Mikhail strides in, eyes blazing with urgency. My heart lurches at the sight of him, and the tension that gripped my body eases in an instant."Sophia," he says, his voice low, almost a growl. "Are you okay?" He doesn’t wait for me to answer, his eyes scanning me like he can see right through to whatever’s going on inside me.I don't need to speak, though. He can feel it. I know he can. His wolf is connected to me, just as mine is connected to him, and right now, I’m a storm of emotions thrashing inside. He can feel that, too. The worry, the anxiety, the anger swirling inside me like a tornado, too strong to be ignored."Your emotions," he continues, stepping closer, his gaze tightening, "they’re… they’re driving my wolf crazy with worry. It
SophiaThe nagging feeling is still there, but it is not as intense as before. When I considered what I could lose instead of gain if anything went wrong, the decision wasn't that difficult for me.Despite all the threats and dangers surrounding us, I am living my dream. And to ruin to find out something that I will eventually find out one day would be foolish of me. And how would I know that I would find out the truth one day? No matter how much anyone tries, the truth always makes itself known."Still thinking about everything?" Mikhail rubs his thumbs over my knuckles and lightly tugs my hand to get my attention."Yeah." Nodding my head, I pull all my hair to my side."Where are we going?" I ask, finally noticing that this isn't the path that I took from home to Elder Merope's place."Finally, you noticed." Mikhail smirks and teases me, "And here I was, getting worried about how clueless my mate was, that anyone could kidnap her, and she wouldn't even be suspicious.""I am with you
Sophia I shift slightly, propping myself up on one elbow so I can look at him. He still looks lost in his thoughts, but knowing him, I know he is alert and ready to take down any threat if it appears.His guards are never down... even while sleeping, there is alertness about him. It's like his mind is up and working even when his body is resting.The gentle sway of leaves above us fills the silence, but a question forms on my lips, one I hadn’t thought to ask until now.“Mikhail,” I begin, my voice low but steady, “tell me about yourself."He blinks as if he’s not quite sure he heard me correctly.Then, with a slow, deliberate movement, he turns to face me fully. A mischievous smile curves at the corners of his lips, one I know all too well—one I’ve seen a thousand times, used to distract, to shift focus, to keep things light. But this time, it doesn’t work.I stay quiet, my expression unchanged as I wait for him to acknowledge the question that still lingers in the air between us.H
Sophia“I had just gone through my first shift. Since our healing strengthened when we found our wolves, everyone thought that maybe after my first shift, I would gain my sight or it would improve. But things weren't simple; even in my wolf form, I was blind. Not as blind as I were in my human form, but still blind." He absentmindedly continues to play with the lock of my hair as if it is the thing that's holding him to the present. "My wolf was wild, and lack of vision made him almost feral. My father's training turned even harsher because he had to help my wolf reign his energy. Even now, a part of him is still feral."A small pout forms on my lips because I don't think his wolf is feral. He has that wild energy that surrounds him, but it makes him lethal and powerful. He is magnificent.Mine. A word echoes in my mind as my wolf agrees with me."In front of you, he behaves like a lovestruck crazy beast, but he is still feral." He softly chuckles and taps my lips with his finger as
Sophia Mikhail pulls me into his arms, his grip firm yet tender, as though he’s trying to anchor himself to the present and shake off the ghosts of his past. His breath brushes against my neck, warm and steady, and I can feel his body relaxing in my embrace. Wrapping my arms tightly around him, I hold him close. My fingers find their way to his hair, threading through the soft strands as I kiss his cheek. I can feel his emotions, raw and unguarded. There’s a strange lightness in him now, as if the burden he’s carried for so long has finally begun to ease. It’s subtle, but I know him well enough to see it, to feel it. With everything that we shared—our past, our experiences, our feelings—the bond between us felt stronger and more real. Closing my eyes, I take a steady breath and let the familiar warmth of my power flow through me. I send it through the connection that ties us together. I can feel his pain, his hurt... his struggles, and I want to erase them and fill every corner
SophiaThe soft glow of evening filters through my window as I finish tying a delicate bow on the basket I’ve been working on. The woven basket is filled to the brim with goodies, a homemade vegetable and chicken stew to nourish the new mother, some soft blankets for the pup, and a few herbal teas to help with her recovery, along with some other baby essentials like diapers, warm clothes, and beanies. I’ve tucked in a small stuffed duck for the pup too, because I remember how much Rose loved grasping her soft toy with her tiny fingers.It feels right to do this, to bring something personal, something thoughtful. Being Luna means more than holding a title. It means being there for the pack, celebrating their joys, and comforting their sorrows. Mikhail told me that it is a tradition in their pack that Luna welcomes the newest members of the pack and is one of the first guests to visit the new mom and the pup. So, here I am prepared to welcome our new member.As I step outside, the cr
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 d
AnastasiaAfter finishing lunch, I decide to step outside the room. Sitting around isn’t going to give me answers. If I’m going to be stuck here, I need to know more about these people.Sophia mentioned the kitchen earlier, saying I could grab something if I needed it. That seems like a good place to start. As I make my way there, I stop in my tracks, my instincts flaring up.A huge man is sneaking up behind Sophia.She doesn’t notice him at all, completely oblivious to the fact that someone is moving toward her with silent, measured steps.Oh, hell no. Not on my watch.Before I even think about it, my body moves. I grab a knife from the sink, keeping my steps light as I approach. But before I can get close enough, he suddenly turns around. His reflexes are fast, but not fast enough to stop me.I drive my foot into his gut, making him stumble back. The moment his balance shifts, I push forward, forcing him to his knees and pressing the knife against his throat."Who are you?" My voice
JakeAnastasia.The woman I have been trying to stay away from is now staying in my sister’s house.Great. Just great.I drag a hand down my face, trying to push back the frustration clawing at me. Of all the damn places, why here? Why in Mikhail's pack’s territory, under my family’s roof?What was she even doing this far out? Dave’s land isn’t anywhere near here. She should not have been close to his pack's borders, not unless she had a reason. But what kind of reason would bring her all the way out here?And more than that, how the hell did she end up so badly hurt?The memory of her broken state slams into me. Blood. Bruises. The way she barely clung to consciousness. My wolf stirs, letting out a low growl inside me, restless and pissed.Who did that to her?She must have run into rogues. Stupid girl, wandering alone when she knows how dangerous the forest can be. She should have been more careful.But the thing is that something in me tells me that she isn't careless. And the rogu
AnastasiaThe woman steps inside, her gaze warm as she looks at me. "How are you feeling?"I open my mouth, then close it. I don’t know how to answer that. My body isn’t screaming in pain like before, but my mind… it’s a mess. I feel strange. Suspicious. Confused.I was badly injured. The kind of wounds that should take months to heal. But here I am, almost fine, only a few faint scars left behind, like my injuries are months old instead of… however long it has actually been.None of this makes sense.And yet, there is something about her, about this whole room, that makes it hard to stay on edge.I swallow, forcing out the only answer I can manage. "Better."She smiles, like she understands more than I am saying. "Good."Beside me, Rose wiggles happily, still grinning. "She took my cookie," she announces proudly, like that somehow means something important.The woman chuckles, shaking her head. "Did she now?" Her eyes flick to my hand, where I am still holding the half-eaten cookie.
AnastasiaDarkness clings to me, dense and heavy, but it starts to slip away little by little. My body feels light, like I am floating in water, but when I try to move, a dull ache spreads through me. My fingers twitch first, then my toes. My head feels too heavy to lift, but I force my eyes open.The room around me is dimly lit, unfamiliar. The air smells clean, carrying hints of pine and something faintly smoky. I blink a few times, my vision adjusting to the soft glow of a lamp on the nightstand. The bed beneath me is warm, the blankets tucked around me like I belong here. But I don’t.Panic grips my chest, snapping me into full awareness. I push myself up, ignoring the way my muscles protest.Patting my waist and then my thigh, where I strap my second dagger, I look for my weapons. But there is nothing.My heartbeat pounds against my ribs as I swing my legs over the edge of the bed. My boots are gone too. I search the room, my gaze darting to the furniture.A dresser, a small tab
JakeI don’t like this. Not one bit.Rogues creeping closer. Hunters sniffing around. Trouble coming at us from every damn direction.It used to be quieter. Sure, we had threats, but nothing like this. Now, almost every week, we find signs of rogues too close to our borders... scents that don’t belong, paw prints where they shouldn’t be, carcasses left behind like warnings.It’s not just a few wanderers anymore. They’re moving in groups, testing the edges of our land, and none of us are taking it lightly.But the rogues aren’t the only problem.The hunters are here too.We’ve found traces of them in the neutral land, tracks, old camps, abandoned traps. We don’t know if they came because of the rogues or if they were already here, but it doesn’t matter. Hunters are never good news.I don’t like not knowing why they’re this close. If they’re just tracking rogues, fine. We don’t need to cross paths. But if they’re here for something else, if they’re watching us… that’s a whole different
Anastasia**A few months later**Every step feels heavier than the last.My legs shake, my muscles scream, and the deep gash on my side throbs like a warning I refuse to listen to. I press a hand against it, feeling the warm, sticky blood that won’t stop.My breath comes in short gasps, and my vision blurs for a second before snapping back into focus.Keep moving. Just a little more.Stopping isn't an option.I press my hand against my side, feeling the warm, sticky blood seeping through my fingers.Damn it.Where the hell are the others?My heartbeat pounds in my ears, drowning out the rustling of the trees around me. They wouldn’t have left me. No way. Something must have happened. Maybe they got separated. Maybe they’re still fighting. Maybe they’re dead.No. No, I can't think like that.I suck in a sharp breath, trying to ignore the way my vision blurs at the edges. They wouldn’t abandon me. They couldn’t abandon me.That’s what’s ingrained in us. Never leave your own.One for all
Anastasia's POVThere are two ways to live in this world. Our world. You either step up and be brave, choose to be the predator, or you cower, bow your head, and live as prey.I choose the first. Always have.Hunting is more than just instinct. It’s the rush in my veins, the fire in my chest when I move, when I chase, when I strike. My body doesn’t hesitate. It knows what to do before my mind even catches up. Every step, every breath, every heartbeat... it all leads to one thing.The kill.That’s not something you can fake. You can’t learn it, not from a book, not from someone else. It’s something that’s just... there. Deep inside. Like a second heartbeat, pulsing through me.And it’s real damn hard to fight against something that’s carved into your bones, something that’s built into every fiber of your being. Only if my father would understand.Don’t get me wrong, I love my father. Always have, always will. He’s done everything he could for me, tried to raise me with care, to protec
The first thing he registers upon waking is the quiet.No, not the silence because nature never allows that... but the kind of quiet that settles deep... that is constant and familiar.The rustling of leaves, the soft stir of the wind, the distant sounds of life beginning to wake. Everything as it should be.His senses pick up on everything, long before his feet touch the ground.It’s instinct. Survival. Something that doesn't seem out of ordinary to him becase it is his second nature to assess, to calculate, to prepare. By the time he’s out of bed, he’s already piecing things together—last night’s events, today’s responsibilities, the things left unsaid.. the tasks that needs his attention. Everything.Mornings are the only time he has to himself, before responsiblities catches him, before people start looking to him for answers. He takes his time, moving through the routine that is more habit than thought.His mornings are not rushed, but never lingering either. A shower, the stea