LOGINThe man dragged her through the underground hall as if she weighed nothing. Violetta stumbled barefoot across the cold black floor, the hem of the tiny dress barely covering her thighs. Her hair spilled over her shoulders in wild, tangled waves, and every pair of eyes in that cursed place followed her like hungry wolves scenting blood. She could feel it. The filth. The lust. The way they looked at her like she was already stripped down to bones and skin and ownership. Her stomach twisted violently. The man holding her arm didn’t loosen his grip. If anything, his fingers dug deeper, bruising her flesh as he hauled her past rows of cages, past women with hollow eyes and trembling hands, past men who smirked as if this was entertainment. Violetta’s breathing turned shallow. No. No, no, no. This couldn’t be real. This couldn’t be her life. Just yesterday, she had been a Luna. A wife. A mother. A woman whose biggest heartbreak had been her husband’s betrayal. Now she was being
Violetta's heart raced as she stepped out of the mansion with her children. The weight of her recent decision pressed down on her like a heavy blanket, but there was no turning back. She had taken the first step toward reclaiming her life. Her children played quietly in the backseat of the car, unaware of the turmoil in their mother’s heart, as Violetta drove them to her parents’ house. This was meant to be a temporary refuge, a place to find some peace, heal, and figure out her next step. But little did she know, it would turn out to be a terrible decision. The drive blurred by. Her mind echoed with Draven's apology and the helpless look in his eyes. The ache in her chest lingered, and she felt powerless to fix it—at least for now. She needed time, distance, and a space to gather her shattered thoughts. When she arrived at her parents' house, the sky had darkened, and a chill filled the air. She didn’t want to talk to anyone. She simply wanted to be in quiet for a little longer
Violetta stood in front of the mirror, her eyes empty as she stared at her reflection. Her heart ached, but there was a part of her that felt cold, distant. She couldn’t hold onto the anger anymore. It was replaced with something worse—an aching emptiness, like her heart had been hollowed out.She had given him everything. She had loved him with every ounce of herself, trusted him more than anyone ever could. But the betrayal… it was too much.She grabbed a small suitcase from the closet, her movements mechanical, almost robotic. There were no tears, no shouting, no dramatic scene. She simply packed her things—enough to survive on her own, to start fresh without him.She picked up the framed photo of her family from the bedside table and set it down gently. The picture of them together, smiling, was a reminder of the life she once believed was hers.Her fingers trembled as she packed a few clothes into the suitcase—things she could wear, things she could leave behind. She couldn’t tak
The tension had been building all week. First, there were the reports. Then Draven was talking to his advisors nonstop. It all led up to the morning when Draven stood by the window. The morning light framed his silhouette. His expression was dark and hard to read.The rogues had attacked the border again. This time, they were more aggressive than before. Their last attack took out some outposts. This time it was different. They were getting ready for something.Draven turned to face her. His eyes looked tired."I need to go, Violetta. Our pack's security is at risk. I have to protect our territory."Violetta felt a knot in her chest. She kept her voice steady. "I know you have to go," she said. "I trust you." She stepped closer. "Promise me you'll be careful. You're not just fighting for the pack anymore."He took her hand. His touch was warm and comforting. "I promise, Violetta. I'll be back soon."Even as he spoke, she saw doubt in his eyes. There was more to this fight. It wasn't t
The days following that evening were filled with a rare peace. Though the world outside still swirled with the same tensions, the estate felt different—lighter. Draven’s focus had shifted. He spent more time at home, more time with Violetta and their children. They found moments of normalcy that they had once believed would forever elude them. He even managed to take a step back from the pack’s never-ending demands, allowing Violetta to breathe a little easier.Violetta, too, felt a weight lifted from her chest. There were still occasional doubts, shadows that lingered, but for the first time in a long time, she felt like the future was within their reach. There were no more secrets. No more whispers or hidden agendas. Just them.One morning, as she sat by the window, cradling a cup of tea, her phone buzzed.It was a message from Mara.I need to see you. Important.Violetta’s brow furrowed. Mara hadn’t been in contact for a few days, and with everything that had been going on, Violett
The days following the successful operation were quieter than expected.Draven didn’t take time to rest. Even with the mercenaries neutralized and the damage contained, his mind raced. Every decision felt heavy now—his family, the pack, Violetta, the twins. Everything was connected, and nothing was ever simple.Violetta noticed the change in him. He was more withdrawn, his thoughts always on the next move, the next threat. His eyes no longer held the sharp edge they usually did—now, they were haunted. As though the weight of everything had finally begun to sink in.She found him in the study late one evening, the same room where so many decisions had been made. The room that once felt like a place of power now seemed like a cage, his mind trapped inside it.She stepped inside without knocking, her presence like a breath of fresh air in the heavy silence.“Draven,” she said softly, moving toward him.He didn’t look up at first. His fingers were splayed out across the table, papers and
The house stayed quiet long after they stopped talking.Not the heavy, suffocating silence from before.This one was softer.Warmer.Fragile.Like something sacred had settled between them.Violetta rested against Draven’s chest on the couch, her legs tucked under her, his arm wrapped around her sh
Violetta didn’t go home after leaving the company. Her car slowed near the park without her consciously deciding to stop. Green stretched out before her—trees heavy with leaves, a walking track damp from an earlier drizzle, benches half-empty as evening crept in. It felt… quieter than her head. S
The war didn’t announce itself with sirens.It arrived with headlines.Violetta woke to her phone vibrating nonstop on the bedside table. Messages stacked over each other—missed calls, notifications, links she hadn’t opened yet but already felt in her bones.Draven was already awake.She knew becaus
Violetta held the medical reports like they were made of glass.Careful.Reverent.As if one careless fold might shatter the miracle written across the page.Positive.Six weeks.Healthy.The words blurred again when tears filled her eyes.Even now, sitting in the backseat of the cab, city building







