In Tyr's Footsteps Novels & Stories

How annoying. “Stop right there! Maya!” Stephanie continued to chase after Maya at the busy street of Russia. The streets were packed as a music festival arrived in Russia. Everyone was outside with their body glitters and colorful clothing, and it was too crowded and too noisy. Stephanie lost sight of Maya a couple of times.

The boy's eyes darted to mine, caught between embarrassment and curiosity. I smiled and waved him over. "Hey there," I called softly. "Would you like to join me?" He didn't move, just stared at me with a mixture of longing and suspicion. This cautious gaze inexplicably made me feel a twinge of pain. I set down my fork and walked over, then crouched in front of him so we were eye to eye. Up close, his features were even more striking. "I'm Audrey," I said, keeping my voice gentle. "And I have way too much food for just one person. Would you like to share my dinner with me?"

KEIRA’S POV I walked toward the center of the hall, my heels clicking softly against the polished floor. The spotlight followed me, and a ripple of applause traveled through the crowd, warm and bright, yet it felt strangely distant. Every step I took seemed heavier than the last, my heart fluttering as I tried to focus on the smiles around me rather than the emptiness I felt searching for Drake’s face. But as I scanned the room, I realized he wasn’t here. Not yet.

For a second, no one moved. Then the crowd surged forward all at once. Bodies slammed into each other, tripping over anything in the way. I grabbed Sam’s hand with my right and Teagan’s with my left and pulled them along as tight as I could. My bad leg was already throbbing like someone was stabbing it with every step, but I kept going. I would drag it behind me the whole night if I had to. ​I didn't look back at the soldier. I didn't look back at the hall. I focused on the dark wall of trees ahead.

He asks with desire in his eyes "Yours" I replied

None. Mercy is not a word for me, it’s definitely not a word for a man who thinks what is mine is his. They call me cruel, they call me tyrant, let them. The pack survives because I decide, that is my rule. That is order. I took a throne young, I held it with blood, I sharpened fear into armor. Mercy would rust that armor, make me weak. I will not be weak. I push open the door, Hanging by the bar like some broken thing, wrists chained above his head, his body slumped but still breathing. His face bruised so bad the skin swells.

In five years with Joric, I'd felt passion, love, and attachment. But never this. Never this deep, earth-shattering pull. Never the feeling of a lost part of my soul finally clicking into place. The tears finally fell, silent and hot against his back. Torin kept moving forward. I didn't know where we were going. I didn't know what was waiting for me. And in that moment, I knew. My wolf was pulling me forward. And anywhere was better than looking back.

Especially with males who have always gotten their way and previously only used one way to settle an argument. Tye is supposed to be helping me get rid of the sofa, but Killian gave an alpha command to “stop,” so now Tye’s standing at the top of the ramp Killian built to replace our front steps, blocking me from shoving the foul thing the rest of the way out of our cabin.

None of them dared to speak up. As they moved, Tyr kept on tracking the fire. He knew what his orders were, but he was also angry. He was supposed to walk along the trail out of the creek towards the clawhold, but he also knew of another trail that crossed the same path and was also supposedly inhabited a dead crippled alpha. Just as they passed a clearing, he stiffened, his eyes widened as a growl escaped his lips. His warriors followed through. All of them turned towards the edge of a clearing, their eyes ablaze with blood thirst and fury as a low rumble rocked the forest.