Chapter Four Words

Anya

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The blood running down my thighs and the pain from giving birth were the least of my concerns.

I could still hear branches snapping behind me and the constant growls echoing through the forest, cruel reminders that I had no choice but to keep moving and escape as fast as I could.

But honestly, none of those sounds were as terrible as the cry of my baby being ripped from my arms and carried away, begging for his mother to protect him. If I had been stronger, maybe, just maybe, I could have saved not only him, but my family too.

But here I was, alone in the middle of a forest, running for my life with only one thing driving me forward: Survive, and take revenge.

…

10 months earlier

I was nineteen years old, with a sick mother and a younger brother depending on me.

That was what kept me obedient and silent inside that house. Not fear, but the knowledge that in the Volkov family estate, one wrong step could cost far more than a dirty look or losing a job.

I adjusted the blanket over Noah’s small body, making sure the youngest Volkov was breathing peacefully before turning off the lights. I watched him for a moment, gently stroking his cheek with one finger before stepping away.

How wonderful it must be to be five years old and so innocent… so unaware of the horrors of the world.

I took a deep breath, knowing reality was waiting for me outside that room. I carefully closed the door behind me so it wouldn’t creak and wake him.

The familiar scent of the mansion lingered in the air: old wood, leather, and something wild soaked into the walls.

The walls covered in Renaissance paintings worth more than my yearly salary were a reminder of the power and status this house carried, a reminder of where I was and who ruled this place: The Volkovs. Leaders of the Silverfangs, the richest pack in Russia.

I was just a she-wolf from the borderlands, the poorest and most forgotten region of the pack. An omega without a family name. What brought us together had been nothing more than a coincidence that could have ended in tragedy.

Noah had wandered away from his parents during a picnic in the forest and nearly drowned in the river. Luckily, I was nearby. I dove in and pulled him out in my arms. The boy clung to me while Patricia, his mother, screamed in panic and ran toward us.

That alone had been enough to earn her gratitude.

So when they offered me the job, I didn’t hesitate. Being Noah’s nanny was a blessing. It paid well, helped me support my family, and Noah was an incredibly sweet child.

There was only one problem.

A problem with a name, a surname, six-foot-three height, wavy brown hair, amber eyes, and broad shoulders: Nathan Volkov.

He was the reason my stomach tightened every time I entered a room and found him there. The reason I twisted in bed at night, whispering his name while touching myself and imagining his warm body against mine.

And he was also the reason I feared being fired.

At first, I thought I was simply affected by his beauty, just like every other female in the pack who seemed ready to go into heat whenever he walked by. But eventually, I realized it wasn’t only desire. It was fear.

From the very first day I started working as Noah’s nanny, Nathan treated me as though my presence disgusted him, as if I were a sewer rat crawling across his dinner table.

Whenever I entered a room, he would leave almost immediately. He became restless and irritated around me, glared at me with cold hostility, and answered sharply anytime we had to speak. In the rare moments our eyes met, I saw nothing in his expression except contempt.

I had never done anything to deserve it. I always tried to stay invisible. I just needed them to keep paying Liam’s school tuition and giving me my paycheck at the end of the month. But if Nathan kept acting this way, I could easily be thrown out without ever doing anything wrong.

I walked downstairs with those thoughts swirling through my mind.

He was beautiful, desirable… he was an alpha, after all. But I didn’t deserve to be treated like that just because I was a servant. It wasn’t fair.

Mr. and Mrs. Volkov had gone on a nighttime hunt. Only Nathan remained behind to guard the territory, a clear duty of the future alpha heir.

I could feel his presence in the house like pressure in the air, heavy and restless, making the hairs on my skin rise.

It had been six months since I started working there, and I couldn’t endure it anymore.

I headed toward the kitchen to make tea before bed, and there he was.

Standing shirtless by the marble counter like a Greek god of war who despised me.

His back was turned to me as he prepared a simple snack. The warm yellow lighting highlighted the tension in his broad shoulders, the way every muscle looked ready to attack.

Something stirred inside me, something I didn’t know how to name. But I knew that If I was going to confront him, it had to be now.

I opened my mouth to speak, but before I could say a word, Nathan slammed the jar of peanut butter in his hand against the counter. The sharp crack echoed through the kitchen. His shoulders rose and fell rapidly, as though sudden fury had overtaken him.

He threw his head back, muscles tense.

“Go away,” he ordered coldly, his voice dripping with irritation.

He had sensed me the moment I entered, and my mere presence was enough to provoke him like this.

I couldn’t keep living this way. The anxiety was eating me alive.

“Why do you do this?” I asked, forcing myself to hold onto the tiny shred of courage pushing past the fear climbing my throat.

Nathan didn’t turn around. He only tilted his head slightly.

“Do what?” His voice was low and restrained, like a growling animal barely holding itself back.

“Treat me like this, like I’m a problem, like my presence annoys you, like I did something terrible.” I took another step closer, my heartbeat pounding in my ears. “Look, I need this job. My family depends on me. If I did something wrong, please… tell me, and I swear I’ll fix it.”

The silence that followed was deafening.

Then he let out a quiet laugh, as if amused by my words.

“Fix it…?” he repeated mockingly.

I frowned, still unable to understand what bothered him so much, and walked closer until I stood beside the kitchen island.

“I don’t know what’s so funny. I’m trying to fight for my job. I just want to be good to you and your family. Give me a chance and-”

Before I could finish, Nathan spun around and lunged at me.

His hand wrapped around my throat with deadly speed. He could have killed me right there if he wanted to. His body slammed mine against the counter, trapping me in place.

I breathed shakily, suddenly aware that my life was no longer in my own hands.

“You do it on purpose, don’t you…?” he growled, his voice so low I could feel the vibration of the words. “Saying things like that. Walking around like this.”

His face brushed against mine, lips so close I could feel our breaths mingling.

“You want to be good to me…?” he asked, his voice thick with desire.

“N-no…” I stammered, my heartbeat climbing into my throat. “I-I didn’t…”

Something about him had changed. An ancient hunger seemed to have awakened inside him. I didn’t know what I had done to push him into this spiral of desire, and I understood even less why my own body was reacting to him like this.

It was more than adrenaline. More than fear.

My body burned hotter than it ever had before. My heart raced wildly, and I could feel gravity itself dragging me toward him.

“Nathan…” His name slipped from my lips before I could stop myself.

And driven by pure instinct and desire, he grabbed the back of my neck and crashed his lips against mine.

It was the best kiss of my life.

Not that I had many to compare it to, but nothing could have rivaled that.

It was hot, wet, soft, more passionate than anything I had ever experienced. His hands roamed over my body, pressing me against the counter without leaving room for escape.

He seemed starving for me. Desperate for my body. His kisses trailed down my neck, and he inhaled deeply, as if my scent were the most precious thing in existence.

Then he looked at me again.

“Tell me to stop,” he said breathlessly, his forehead pressed against mine. “Tell me to leave. Tell me you don’t want me… please…”

He looked torn apart. Tormented. Like he was fighting against himself, like he truly meant it.

I should have told him to stop.

I should have valued myself enough to say he couldn’t treat me like garbage and then take me whenever he wanted.

But I couldn’t.

I couldn’t give him the answer he was begging for. Because I would have been lying. And my body refused to lie.

Because in the end, some choices aren’t made with reason, they’re made with instinct.

And that choice was about to change everything.

It was almost ironic to think about it, the downfall of the Volkovs and my own ruin would begin with four simple words.

“Yes, I want you,” I whispered, pulling him closer by the nape of his neck and deepening the kiss that doomed us both.