The Unruly Luna

Chapter 9

Ruslan’s City Apartment

The moment they entered the apartment, the man immediately tried to embrace her. Polina twisted out of his arms. She was now standing facing the wall, while he breathed heavily into the back of her neck. Ruslan pressed his hips against her body, bracing his left hand against the wall. With his right hand, he touched her neck, scorched her skin with hot breath, and slid his lips along her bare shoulder blade. His arm wrapped around her waist and began to stroke her stomach.

"Little troublemaker," — he whispered quietly, almost breaking into a pleased growl — the stubborn girl was still resisting. — "You don’t need to be so afraid of me, little one. I’ll just caress you, only a little. For that, I need to undress you. Don’t resist. I promise I won’t hurt you."

Instead of answering, she dropped the small clutch from her hands.

"Don’t be afraid of me, Polya."

Ruslan placed his palms on her shoulders and squeezed them slightly. One hand slid carefully down her back to her hips. He leaned in, brushing her shoulder blades with a light kiss. Nimble fingers found the zipper and undid it along her side. His hands moved over her thighs while his lips traced her spine, lingering at her lower back and touching a small mole on her backside with a kiss. The dress fell to the floor.

His hands found the clasp of her bra and freed her body of another layer. While he kissed her shoulders, his hands gently stroked her lower back. He hooked a finger under the thin fabric of her underwear and sank down beside her onto his knees, sliding her panties down. The girl obediently stepped out of them, ending up barefoot.

There was no hint of arousal — only a suffocating, sticky fear filled her. She froze in his hands, and only her ragged, nervous breathing reached him. Ruslan turned her to face him. Polina lowered her eyes and did not look at him.

He lifted her into his arms, carried her to the bedroom, and laid her on the bed. Ruslan kicked off his shoes and removed his shirt. She immediately rolled onto her stomach, unconsciously defending herself from him. A kiss landed on her shoulder, light and barely perceptible. She felt the heat of his body, which stubbornly demanded a response.

His lips kissed her right shoulder, then slid up to her neck. Fingers traced her back, paused at her lower spine, and began slow, soothing strokes. His movements were unhurried and careful, deliberately gentle. His lips slipped lower, kissing the delicate skin between her shoulder blades.

No matter how gentle the Alpha was, there was no reaction. Her body remained tense, her breathing shallow, her eyes squeezed shut. He caught the sharp scent of salt — she was barely holding back tears. Polina endured his touch as if it were a punishment, suppressing fear and protest. Then he smelled blood — she had bitten her lip or cheek.

Ruslan gave in. He covered her with the sheet, wrapped her in it like a cocoon, pressed her to his chest, and after a final kiss to her neck, stopped trying to tame her.

"Sleep, little one. I won’t bother you anymore," — he whispered into her ear — then slowed his breathing so she would think he had fallen asleep. Feeling it, she relaxed slightly.

Polina lay awake for a long time without moving, breathing quietly in his arms. Exhaustion eventually took over, and she fell asleep. Ruslan carefully removed the hairpins and clip, letting her hair fall loose. Then he gently turned her to face him, stroked her cheek, placed her stubborn head on his chest, and held her. He did not fall asleep.

Saturday Morning

Polya woke around six in the morning and opened her eyes. Someone else’s bedroom. She was in Seversky’s arms. Fear seized her, and she was afraid to move. The man pretended to be asleep.

Polina slowly exhaled. Looking around, she realized this was definitely his bedroom — personal items were everywhere. The room looked lived-in, as if its owner spent a lot of time here. A bottle of water and a glass on the table. A jacket draped over a chair. A laptop bag. A blue folder with documents.

She shifted carefully, afraid to wake him. The fabric nearly slid off her chest. The sheets, just as he had promised, were black and silk. So thin it felt as if there were nothing between them, as if he were pressing her naked body to his. Fear surged again.

She remembered how easily he had lifted her, how effortlessly he had pulled her close, how possessively. Looking at him now, it was hard to believe such strength lived in this body. Seversky did not look like a gym regular. Broad shoulders, yes, but he did not resemble a soldier. And yet she remembered another man — one with similar blue eyes, dark skin, black hair — someone who also carried immense strength within.

Polina thought: What do you really want from me, strange man named Ruslan? With the face of the one I lost and never managed to accept losing. I had only just begun to live again. Why did you appear in my life? Why do you look so much like a ghost from the distant past? The same deep blue eyes, turning dark violet when you’re angry. The same facial features — so similar that at a glance one could mistake you for him. Only Seversky has a scar near his brow, while he had one on his cheek. Why won’t you let me go, Ruslan? Do I remind you of someone too, or do you have other reasons? I don’t understand you at all.

She tried to slip out of his arms, but failed. Ruslan held her tightly, even though he embraced her with only one arm. She cautiously placed her hand on his shoulder and whispered:

"I need to go to the bathroom. Please, let me go."

"Alright, but we’ll lie down again. First door on the right," — Ruslan replied quietly in a hoarse voice, opening his eyes.

She nodded without looking at him, climbed out of bed, and awkwardly wrapped herself in the sheet as she left. Her hair was so long — it definitely suited her. Ruslan watched her and could not understand what to do next. If a she-wolf had been in his bed, it would have been just a sleepless night. From his true mate, he had gained nothing but fear and tears. So what now?

Polina returned to the bed and lay with her back to him. The Alpha placed his hand on her stomach and pulled her close again. She did not want to see Ruslan. A hot kiss burned her shoulder blade. A strong hand pressed on her shoulder, forcing her onto her back. The man hovered over her.

"Why do you react like this?" — Ruslan asked, bracing his hand on the bed beside her face.

"I don’t want this. You forced me. You didn’t leave me a choice. Why are you making me do this?" — Polina spoke barely above a whisper. — "I don’t understand what reaction you were expecting."

"Was I cruel to you, little one? Did my touch hurt you? I barely touched you, didn’t even try to kiss you. I just wanted to show you I wouldn’t attack you. You slept so calmly in my arms," — he continued, leaning closer. — "Why not just try to accept me? Am I so terrible? Not handsome enough, or didn’t earn enough money? Tell me — what’s wrong with me."

"You are cruel. You don’t care how I felt when you forced me to come here. When you made me choose between a night with you or violence against her." — Her words sounded like an accusation now. — "My body wasn’t in pain, but my heart was. You tore my soul apart. I can’t become your obedient toy on command."

Ruslan tore the sheet from her chest, placing his palm over her heart. Beneath his fingers, it froze in fear. He clenched his teeth to keep from growling in despair. He leaned down and kissed the spot softly, barely touching. She flinched and closed her eyes — submission taken by force.

"Little one, you’re not a toy. You’ll come to me anyway. Yesterday you showed your weakness. Despite all your bravado, you’ve already lost, and you know it." — His voice was low and coaxing, as if explaining something to a stubborn child. — "Surrender while I still want to be gentle and patient with you. I promise you’ll be good with me. I’ll take care of you. I have power. You’ll get anything you want with a snap of my fingers. Just tell me — on what terms will you be with me. Just say yes."

Polina did not answer. She turned away, eyes still closed. Panic churned inside her. She was afraid to speak — her voice would break, she would cry, she would show her weakness.

His shadow fell over her. He leaned lower and inhaled the scent of his mate — salt again. She was barely holding back tears. This was his defeat. Fear stole her words.

Ruslan lowered himself, covered her with the sheet again, kissed her small hand, and placed it on his chest, showing he would not touch her anymore.

"Understand this — no one can save you from me. Trying to find work in another city is pointless. Even another country won’t help. I have extensive connections," — he said softly. — "The third week of your stubbornness will begin with a kidnapping, just as I promised. You’ve seen my men. They are my feral wolves, and they will be the ones carrying it out. No one will be gentle with the captives." He paused, then continued. "So think carefully before delaying your answer or telling me no again. I will get what I want. You will say yes, little one."

Ruslan rose abruptly from the bed, brought her clothes, and placed them at her feet.

"You can take a shower. I’m going to the kitchen. I won’t bother you. I’ll make coffee, then I’ll take you home."

He left. His eyes were already changing color, claws breaking through at his fingers as he scratched his shoes. The Alpha knew there was a sedative in the kitchen. He needed it — before he frightened his mate even more.