AellaI can still feel the pulsing vibration of the jet’s engines as Roman and I disembark, the plane’s hushed whir still lodged in my ears. The Northern Territory is brutal, with winds that slice through your clothes, rattling your very bones. Tall pines and firs stretch skywards like an army of ancient warriors standing sentinel. Despite the frigid beauty, a sense of foreboding tightens the air—something is terribly wrong here.Roman looks tense. Even from my peripheral vision, I can see the cords of his neck straining, and his jaw clenched in an almost animalistic way. He’s been on the phone the entire flight—speaking in Russian and what sounded like Romanian, conversations laced with urgency and dark premonitions.The playful, flirty Alpha from hours ago has morphed into someone more somber, more distant.We take a black SUV from the airstrip, driving through a web of unmarked roads until we reach the first crime scene. As Roman steps out, I follow suit, bracing myself against th

AellaThe first thing I sense as I awaken is not the soft morning light filtering through the curtains or the luxurious comfort of the hotel bed. It’s Roman—his energy and scent fills the space around me, enveloping me like a protective shroud. I can feel the warmth radiating from his body as he lies curled around me from behind. Before I can even open my eyes, I feel his lips brush softly against my shoulder, a tender kiss that instantly dispels the lingering tension from last night. A second kiss follows, landing gently on the nape of my neck, sending shivers down my spine. It’s a simple yet intimate gesture, filling the space between us with unspoken emotion.Each kiss sends a little jolt through me, but it’s tinged with confusion.“Good morning, little bird,” Roman whispers in a husky tone, sending a shiver through me.“Morning,” I reply softly, covering his hand with mine.We stay like this for a moment, basking in the comforting silence until the weight of unresolved matters fo

Aella I wake up to a bone-chilling cold, groggy and disoriented. For a moment, my eyes refuse to focus, the surroundings blurry and unfamiliar. My mind is swimming, trying to grasp onto the last threads of memory. I lift my head, instantly regretting it as dizziness washes over me, but I grit my teeth and push through. As my vision clears, reality begins to set in, sinking its teeth into my already shattered composure. I’m in a room, the walls stained with age and disrepair, a single flickering lightbulb hanging from the ceiling. The air is damp, thick with the scent of mold and something far worse—malevolence. But what tightens the knot of dread in my stomach isn’t the room or the silver shackles around my wrists, burning into my skin like live coals. It’s him, leering at me from the corner of the room like I’m his last meal. Green eyes, the rebellious way his blonde hair falls over his forehead and that smirk. He’s sitting in a corner of the room, one leg casually crossed over

RomanThe room is tense with unspoken emotions, so thick you could cut it with a knife. Silvia, our pack healer, moves around Aella with clinical precision, collecting whatever evidence she can. While Aella sits on the edge of the bed with a hollow look in her eyes; a shell of the woman I know and love. She’s physically here, but mentally? Emotionally? I have no idea where she is.[“I’m right here, Aella,”] I try to communicate through the mind link, that intimate pathway that has always been open between us. But it’s as if she’s locked all the doors and windows to her soul, and I’m standing outside in the cold, helplessly knocking.She’s quiet, unsettlingly so. Her eyes are vacant, like she’s mentally far away from this room, far away from me. I reach out through our mind link constantly, trying to make a connection, but there’s nothing—no response, no echo of my thoughts in her mind. It’s as if a thick wall has been erected between us, and I’m helpless to tear it down.I can’t sit

RomanThe night air is filled with an almost tangible sense of tension and regret, making it almost suffocating to breathe. I am lying down next to Aella, her body seems to be barely there, a mere wisp, and her breathing is shallow and uneven. Days have passed in agonizing silence, days during which she’s hardly uttered a word, days where her eyes speak volumes of her inner torment. I can do nothing but hold her, whisper sweet nothings of assurance that I am here.The disconnect between us is driving me fucking crazy, that space widening with each passing second. I want to scream, kill something, throttle the life out of Vasily for what he’s done to her.But what good will that do? Vasily will be dead, but Aella’s memories won’t be.I’m awake, hyper-aware of every twitch, every small movement that Aella makes beside me. It’s as if my senses are dialed to eleven, each one screaming at me to be prepared, to be ready for anything. I hold her as she fights her demons in her sleep, all w