Yuri Volkov Novels & Stories

“And give her what she needs to feed herself and children.” “You do realize that the merchant is going to tell everyone that a high-ranked wolf bought half his stock, right?” Marcel asked as the two of us walked out. “let him do that.” I said calmly. “I want the food that is within the Petrova territory to reach the people who need them. I don’t care what it would take, pretend that they’re not coming from out grounds, but these people are going to be dying for choices that could have been made for them… and their children shouldn’t suffer because of it.”

His beady little eyes undressing me as he spoke. "That's not it, last week the las we had thrown into the ring with those two creatures and was devoured in two minutes flat. She was a looker, bigger tits than this one too." The Woman who had a hold of my right arm threw in. Her thick Scottish accent made it hard to understand her completely. "Ahh, yes, that's very true. I can't believe I forgot about her." Leon looked up dreamily. This guy is so disgusting. "Sit," Ivan ordered, finally turning his attention to me. I was shoved forward and slammed down into the wooden bench.

It was the dossier he’d requested on Lev Volkov. Lev Volkov was twenty-six years old, six foot three inches and around two hundred pounds. He was the same height as Dominic but he was a bit bulkier. He’d been born in Russia during a blood moon, which apparently held some mystified significance and he’d disappeared from sight at age fifteen. He kept his dirty blonde hair longish, about two inches below his ears and sported bright blue eyes, much like Gage’s.

People who understood that in war, you did whatever it took to win. His finger hovered over a name: Alexei Volkov. Former Russian military. Current private contractor. No moral compass to speak of, but utterly reliable if the price was right. Victor had used him once before, years ago, for a situation that required discretion and zero questions asked. He pressed call. Volkov answered on the third ring. "Da?" "It's Victor Russo. I have a job for you." "What kind of job?" "The kind that requires your particular skills." Victor moved back to the window, looking out over the city. "And absolute discretion."

"He was shot by Russians, apparently some dude named Ivan Petrov. I've been trying to locate him for some time now but he kept moving from place to place so I gave up and just dealt with it, I guess" "Gave up?" He retorted. "You don't just give up; I'll help you find him. I have some men in Russia as we speak, who can help. Why didn't you tell me this sooner?" He asked with anger in his voice. "It doesn't matter, don't waste your time on him, I'm not one for revenge" I huffed out turning on my back so I wasn't facing him anymore. "Ivan is a ruthless man. He's killed children, Cassandra; I'm finding him whether you like it or not." I sighed and nodded, hoping he could see my nod.

In the center of the floor sat a heavy oak table, illuminated by a single overhead lamp that carved the room into sharp planes of light and shadow. Viktor Volkov sat at the head, surrounded by monitors displaying live satellite feeds of every major port in the Atlantic. He was a man of sixty, with silver hair cropped close to a skull that bore the jagged white line of an old knife wound from his days in the gulags. He didn't stand when they approached; he simply watched them with eyes that had seen the end of the world and found it boring. "Dominic Thorne," Viktor rumbled, his voice like stones grinding in a riverbed. "I heard you traded your bachelorhood for a Vane inheritance. I didn't thi

- collectors of debts, takers of lives. Their presence strikes fear into the hearts of even the most hardened men. Each one a force to be reckoned with, ruthless and merciless. Their rule is absolute, their mercy nonexistent and I'm in love with one of them. Their rule is absolute, their mercy nonexistent and I'm in love with one of them. Viktor Ivanov, the Strategist. Alexei Sokolov, the Ghost, is the most quiet and reserved member but he's as deadly as a viper. Mikhail Volkov, the Butcher or the Volk and then we have Nikolai Rostov, the Punisher.

But something about the coach’s tone felt… deliberate. “We’ve got a new addition!” he laughed. “He's a natural! Says he's been training since 14! He might be as good as Lukas,” and that's what got his attention. Murmurs spread lightly through the group but Lukas barely reacted, resting one hand against his stick as he looked on, his expression was still neutral. Then the coach stepped aside. “Viktor Volkov.” The name hit first… sharp and familiar. The name of the one who abandoned him. Lukas’s fingers tightened slightly around his stick and for the first time, he almost lost composure.

--- Lucien set down his coffee. "Dmitri Volkov?" "His name is Yuri. He's been hiding in South America since his father was arrested." "Why is Reyes telling us now?" "Because Yuri is back." "Back where?" "New York. He's been seen asking questions about us. About Nadia." Lucien's jaw tightened. "How does he know about Nadia?" Elena was quiet. "Because someone told him." "Who?" "The same person who's been telling him everything. About the empire. About the money. About the bodies."

He promised me that he would consider me for the role if I completed my training, but what did I expect from a beast who has murdered three of his wives? I clench my jaw, then look at the two men in front of me; both imposing and tall with the air of Russian royalty about them. Kai Volkov was everything the rumours said and more; tall, built like a panzer tank, and no emotion evident in his blue eyes. The intimidation in his scent is enough to keep me submissive because, truth be told, he scared the Hell out of me. The other one, Viktor, not so much. He seems more like the bookish type, not a warrior, but I wouldn’t fuck with him either way. The Blood Crest pack didn’t have a terrible reputa