Book 1 Mikhail & Sophia Story (Completed) Book 2 Jake & Anastasia Story (Completed) Book 3 Alexei and Irene (On-Going) Sophia always dreamt of finding her true mate, someone who would finally see her. But fate twisted the knife when the Moon Goddess bound her to cruel Alpha Mikhail known as the Blind Alpha. Mikhail had no interest in a mate. He already had a perfect shewolf who has proved her worth to him. Yet, when Sophia stumbled into his life as his fated mate, he couldn't reject her. A curse chained him - his wolf craved a mate, and rejecting her now would drive him mad. His plan? Endure the mating bond until the Red Moon, where he could break it without losing his wolf. What will happen when Sophie will learn the truth of her mate? What will she do when she will realize that she was, is, and will always remain unwanted?
View MoreMikhail
I stand at the edge of the forest, the scent of pine and earth filling my senses. My blindness sharpens my other senses, making the world around me more vivid in ways most can't comprehend.
Being blind hasn't made me weak. In fact, it's made me stronger, more ruthless. A cruel smirk appears on my face when I recall what happened to those who considered me weak and challenged me. I can still feel the warmth of their blood on my skin as I tore them limb from limb with my bare hands. Those bastards weren't even worthy of fighting against my wolf; even in my human form, they were no match for my strength.
I haven't earned the title of Cruel Blind Alpha for nothing. Killing is my second nature. As the Alpha of the strongest pack in the northern territory, my pack and I are known for being ruthless and fierce.
My father might not have been a loving father, but he was a great mentor. He taught me never to let anyone consider my sightlessness as a weakness.
His methods were harsh, almost cruel, but they prepared me to face this world. He drilled into me the importance of strength and the necessity of being feared and respected.
My mother never liked the way he trained me, but she never said anything because she knew he was doing it for my benefit. She was the only softness in my life, the one who offered comfort after my father's brutal lessons. Her love was a quiet, constant presence, a warmth I rarely allowed myself to acknowledge. But she knew, as I did, that without my father's harsh training, no one would consider me worthy of being Alpha. Without it, I would always be seen as a weak and pathetic excuse for a leader.
My parents died in a rogue attack when I was barely an adult. But I didn't let their deaths go unavenged. I hunted down every last rogue involved and made sure none of them lived to tell the tale.
Clenching my jaws, I shake my head as my wolf howls inside me, being as restless as ever.
Raising my face towards the sky, my useless eyes notice slight brightness, indicating that the moon is shining brightly, and what I am feeling is the effect of the full moon.
I know my pack and my territory with the back of my hand. I don't need eyes to navigate through it.
Returning to the pack house, I directly made my way towards the Alpha quarter.
My eyes make out the blurred outline of the person standing at the door waiting for me as I have ordered.
"Layla." My voice comes out stoic as I acknowledge her.
"Alpha." She purrs in response as she comes and stands directly in front of me.
Extending my hand, I hold her neck and then drag it down towards the middle of her chest and then move my hand lower.
I nod my head in approval as she stands naked, ready to take care of my and my wolf's needs.
"My room, now!" I order and don't wait for her to follow as I make my way towards my room.
As soon as I hear her entering the door and closing the door behind, I push her front against the wall.
"Hands on the wall." I order while removing my clothes, "Don't move." Grabbing her hips harshly, I force her to stand still.
"Take whatever you want from me..." Turning her head slightly, she smiles at me. "Don't hold back. You know I can take it."
A growl ripples through me when I partially shift into my wolf while the room echoes with her painful screams.
LucasArthur Blake stands like a man used to being obeyed, not questioned. The kind of man whose silence carries more weight than most people’s words. His men flank him in perfect alignment, every step and pause matching his like they’ve done this a hundred times before. It’s too precise to be coincidence. Too practiced to belong to regular security.I’ve seen bodyguards before.These men aren’t that. They move like they’ve been trained somewhere that doesn’t give out business cards. Their eyes never settle. They track corners, exits, reflections. I can almost hear the calculations in their heads.Arthur’s not any better at pretending to be ordinary. Millionaires usually have a softness to them, a certain detachment from danger. He doesn’t. His stillness feels military. The way he assesses the room, the small tilt of his head when one of his men shifts position, it’s all control, all command. He doesn’t just hire protection. He leads it.There’s something darker under that polished ext
AuroraTime slows to a cruel crawl, and all I can do is watch in frozen horror as he pulls the trigger. The sound is deafening, echoing through the café again and again until it drowns out everything else. My chest feels hollow, my world tilts, and I can barely breathe. He doesn’t even look at me. He just keeps shooting until there are no bullets left, his face cold and unreadable.The silence that follows is louder than the gunfire. My knees feel weak, and my vision blurs. Then, out of nowhere, a strong hand grips my arm and pulls me up. My tears finally break free, rolling down my cheeks when I see who it is. Lucas. He’s standing right in front of me, very much alive.He wraps an arm around my shoulders, steady and firm, holding me close. I can feel his heartbeat against my side, calm and even, as if nothing just happened. His face gives away nothing. His eyes, though, are locked on Dad, unflinching.When James rushes to my side, Lucas lets him take me. James pulls me toward Dad, and
AuroraMy fingers clutch the fabric of Lucas’s shirt so tightly that my knuckles ache. The soft cotton is warm beneath my grip, stretched taut across his back as his muscles coil like steel beneath it. He is completely calm and in control, while fear burns in my throat, thick and suffocating. It paralyzes my thoughts for one awful moment, something that has never happened before. But I refuse to let it win.Not when he’s standing in front of me, shielding me with his body as if he can take on the entire world alone.Tears sting my eyes, hot and useless, but I blink them away and force myself to inhale slowly. Air. Focus. Control.I need to think.Think, Aurora. Think.My gaze darts around the café, taking in every possible detail. The tables are overturned, chairs splintered and scattered like bones. A spilled cup of coffee glistens on the tiles, a dark mirror to the chaos. Behind the counter, a barista crouches, her hands trembling around her phone as she tries to dial something, so
AuroraI should look away. I tell myself to, but I can’t. The magnetic pull between us is too strong, threading through the air, invisible yet unbreakable. My fingers twitch against my lap, my heart pounding like it wants to reach for him. I feel helpless under the weight of his stare, yet somehow powerful, like I have just discovered a secret the universe never meant me to know.I always felt that Lucas was someone who had stepped straight out of fiction. Because otherwise, how could he be so perfect? The way he walks, the way his voice dips just enough to make your stomach flip, the way he smiles like he knows something you don’t, none of it feels real. He can’t be real.But now… I am starting to believe that maybe he isn’t like everyone else. There is something about him, something that sets him apart, something that hums beneath the surface. I can feel it. The world around him feels different, like reality bends a little just to make space for him.And maybe that’s what scares me t
AuroraThis cannot be my imagination or some random coincidence. My instincts are never wrong, and right now they are screaming that something unusual is happening.But how could Lucas possibly hear me?I bite my lower lip, pretending to stare blankly ahead while my eyes stay fixed on him through the café window. He sits there, calm and composed, sipping his coffee as if the world is at peace. His gaze stays lowered, his movements measured. But I know what calm looks like, and I know what pretending looks like too.And Lucas… he is pretending.“Lucas,” I whisper, my voice barely a breath, my lips moving so slightly that it feels like I am speaking only to my own reflection in the glass. “You can hear me, right?”He doesn’t move. Doesn’t look up. The idiot bacon sits perfectly still, pretending nothing happened. But I see it, the faint tick in his jaw, the quick twitch of his lips, the kind that only shows when someone is holding something in.Got you, honey buns.A slow grin creeps ont
AuroraI slip my favorite book into my bag, the one with the worn corners and the coffee stain that never quite faded. A few sticks of gum and Anastasia’s phone follow, before I slide the zipper closed. My sandals tap softly against the marble as I walk toward the door, my reflection flickering across the glass cabinets on the way out.For a few moments of the day, I can pretend to be free. In these stolen breaths of time, I can be myself, no pretenses, no perfection to maintain. But lately, even that is changing... changing in a good way, not in a burdening and suffocating way. Ever since Lucas came into my life, the thought of disappointing him has begun to crawl beneath my skin. I used to think I didn’t care what anyone thought. Now, his approval feels like the one thing that matters most in the world.The moment I step into the corridor, I hear it, the familiar rhythm of heavy footsteps trailing just behind mine. The guard. Always there. Always watching.I do not look back. I have
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