Rogue

RORY

My heart starts racing more than humanly possible, although resurrection is definitely exceeding what’s humanly possible.

My eyes widen, and in the faint shimmer of the sunrise, I see the shadow of a rogue wolf.

He approaches, circling me.

I watch him, holding my breath, waiting for the point where he pounces.

What I don’t expect is the sound of cracking bones. The transformation of the wolf in front of me causes a little shriek to escape my lips.

His eyes lock with mine as he completely changes into his human, naked form and inches closer to me.

I make sure that my eyes stay with his, not even daring to move any lower, afraid of what I might see.

“Little girls like you shouldn’t be out here,” he grunts, a menacing smile creeping across his lips.

I slide a little as the wolf approaches, which makes me grab onto the rogue’s shoulders. My nails dig into his flesh as I gain my balance—not that I had any to begin with.

“I smell pack wolves all over you. One thing I hate more than anything is pack wolves. And it appears they hurt you. What happened?”

“T-they…tried to k-kill me,” I stammer, the shivers of the chilled morning running through me.

Only in bloodied school clothes, I wrap my arms around myself for warmth, taking my hands away from his hot ones.

“H-hi,” I say a little awkwardly. I’ve been told many terrifying stories about rogues, stories that gave me nightmares for weeks as a young child.

But upon closer look, this man in front of me, this rogue, he doesn’t too appear threatening.

However, looks can be deceiving.

A small chuckle escapes him at my response to him, but then his eyes narrow as if he’s attempting to figure this human girl out.

“You are used to werewolves,” he states, assessing me more. “You shouldn’t stay out here.”

“I have nowhere else to go.”

It’s true…I can’t go home, I can never go home. They thought they killed me. They think I’m dead.

And I was, I think.

But I can’t go back, even if Mama, the only person I truly love, is back there. She’ll be safer with me gone.

She’ll just be an Omega rather than the Omega mothering the only human in the pack.

“You should go, little girl. I protected you through the night, but now I must leave,” the rogue states and my eyes widen at his words.

“You protected me?” I question.

“You were lying out in the open, in rogue territory. Many rogues pass through here, me being one of them. Luckily for you, I was the first. Some don’t take too kindly to humans.

“With me protecting you, they backed away or took other routes altogether when they smelled me. But now I’m leaving,” he declares and changes back into his wolf state.

“Thank you.” His head nods in recognition before he scurries off into the woods, hurtling through the maze of trees and out of my sight.

I can’t stay here. Not another night especially. But where can I go?

Maybe I can find my Freya, ask her family to put me up. But taking care of another child is a lot to ask.

Although I am eighteen, would I be too much of a burden?

What about Eddie? He was my friend for a couple of years before he was my boyfriend. But I haven’t even met his parents yet, even though they know about me.

I haven’t met Freya’s parents either. My free time was spent with the pack who betrayed me, who killed me.

And now I don’t have anywhere to turn.

As I hear the rush of a stream nearby, I race toward it, overcome with thirst. Having my neck slit has left me incredibly thirsty and my throat incredibly dry.

But, like the klutz that I am, I tumble and eat dirt once again.

I’m cursed. Cursed with clumsiness.

I spit out the gunk in my mouth and scramble over to the water to cleanse it. But catching a glimpse of my reflection halts me, my eyes fixing on the ones staring back at me.

I notice the terrified, insane, worrisome look. The blood smeared all over my face as if it were paint, the dried lines down my jaw making it appear as if I had eaten something raw.

Those lines fuse into a clustered gash of crimson where the slit used to be, and then pouring down and onto my collarbone and clothes.

The rogue must have thought I was a mess. Maybe that’s why he protected me, seeing a bloodied helpless girl passed out in the woods.

I don’t know how to explain any of this. I don’t know how I’m still alive.

I died, I know I did. My soul was taken from my body, to the serene desolate place, but then I was sent back, by that force.

It made me go back. And now I’m here.

Alive.

I have been resurrected. Again.

Why?

Is it a miracle or damnation?

I start walking again, more carefully this time. The crunch of the leaves under my feet make me aware of my surroundings. I don’t possess super hearing or super smell. I can’t tell if anything is about, if anything might attack.

Sometimes I wish I was born a werewolf, then none of this would have happened. I would have been welcomed into the pack, I would be able to fight my own battles.

But instead I’m a weak little human—who has the power to resurrect apparently.

The whimpering and cries of an animal snap me out of my daze, and I search the area for the source. This animal could appear to pose no threat but actually prove quite dangerous.

As I creep toward the noise, the volume of the cries dies slightly, causing me to hear the thud of my own heart.

But then I catch sight of it: a fawn with bite marks all over. Something must have scared a rogue away for it to leave its dinner still partially intact.

I crouch down to the creature, hoping to ease its suffering with each stroke of my hand.

My hand hovers over the wounds and presses down on them, ceasing the blood from oozing out anymore.

A small whimper is released from the animal but soon enough, the baby beast passes out.

A tear escapes me as I stare down at this animal. Like me, it is alone in rogue territory, a child left to its own devices, running from the terrors of the world.

It deserves to live, it should live. It has done nothing wrong.

Why do the innocent die when evil still thrives, like Alpha Nick and Victoria?

All of a sudden, the fawn awakens, panting as its chest moves up and down rapidly.

I snatch my hands away, only to see the gashes are no longer there, somehow disappeared under my hands.

The blood remains, covering my hands, but like the slit on my neck, this baby’s wounds have healed miraculously.

~Did I do this? Did I save this animal? How is that possible?~

This fawn was dying, and now it stumbles to its feet and gallops off.

Moments before, I had a lot of energy. But suddenly, I’m exhausted, even though it’s only the morning.

I drop my head into my hands, my mind heavy from trying to understand all the strange things that have happened to me in the past 24 hours.

And that’s when I hear it…

Another growl. Different from the last one. There’s no way I’ll be so lucky again.

Without thinking, I pick myself up and make a run for it.

I don’t look back for fear of it slowing me down too much…that I’ll get caught even faster.

But it’s a wolf chasing me. I won’t get too far, especially if I keep tripping over every branch or even my own feet every six seconds.

When I feel the creature pounce on me, I’m certain that this is it.

This is where I die. Again.

I should really attempt to stay alive longer. It’s only been a day since my last death.

But death doesn’t come. Not yet anyway. As I hear the bones crunch, I realize the beast is shifting for some reason.

Replacing the paws that once pinned me down are big hands, turning me over and onto my back.

There’s an overwhelming force pulling me toward the creature. A strange feeling of ecstasy washes over me as his body presses into mine.

My eyes flicker open and I see a pair of vibrant blue ones staring back at me. The ones from my dreams.

It’s him.

“Mate,” he growls in my ear.