If Jordan doesn’t kick the bucket of water I use for cleaning the floors, he will find other ways to antagonize me. He will probably call me names or, if he is in a very bad mood, even push me or make me trip.
Safia whines. Being a lone wolf inside a pack is difficult. When it is a full moon, we usually run alone while the rest of the pack runs together. I prefer it, anyway, because I would probably look constantly over my shoulder if I had one of the pack members run next to me, wondering if I would get attacked.
‘One day, we will find the one meant for us. Our soulmate. We will never be alone then. When the full moon rises above the forest, we will run next to our soulmate,’ I say, trying to console Safia. Of the two of us, she is the one who suffers the most from the lack of friendship and companions. I am more than happy not to talk to anyone from the pack, for days in a row.
Werewolves are not meant to be alone. That is why many rogues go mad after years of solitude. Some of them band together and form packs that, while not accepted by the Council of the Elders, will keep them sane.
Safia tries to explain to me that Titan is not only a good wolf, but he would also love to run with us. Gag me! Not that I have something against Titan. But Jordan would probably kill me before running with me.I put the sketchbook in my backpack and climb down, wanting to go into my room and sleep. Jordan’s birthday is in two days, and that means more work for me. Unmated females from other packs are expected to come and parade themselves in front of Jordan, to see if any of them are his soulmate. While I feel bad for Titan, I hope Jordan never finds his soulmate.
To get to my room, which is in the Packhouse, I have to pass by the bonfires. I hope no one pays me any attention. Please, please, please….
“If it is not the mongrel,” someone says.
I don’t even need to smell her scent to know it is Ruth talking since she is the only one who calls me mongrel. Or mutt. Or any other insulting word she can come up with.
I try to keep walking, to pretend I did not hear her, but her friends' group is blocking my path. They usually ignore me, just like I ignore them. Tonight, however, was one of those nights when they wanted to fuck with the Omega. Figuratively, not literally.
Before I can say something back to Ruth, she adds, “What are you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to make sure everything is ready for Jordy’s special day? Am I right, Honey-Bunny?”
I try not to roll my eyes, but they would probably spin at the back of my head, like slot machines. Who talks like that? Jordy… Honey-Bunny… who is, of course, Hannah, Ruth’s best friend.
“You are always right, Ruthy,” Hannah replies.
What are they, six?
What did Jordan, or any of the other males in the pack, see in Ruth? She is annoying as fuck. I'm guessing it's because she is beautiful, but since I can’t see faces, I find other things attractive.
“I am going to my room since it is my free time,” I reply. Not that I have to give explanations to Ruth, but it is easier if I do.
“If I am to become the Luna, I would have to make sure you never had a free moment,” Ruth says, and her friends approve. Shocker.
“Well, good thing you are not the future Luna. Now, if you all will be kind enough to let me pass….” I say.
“I don’t even know why we bother speaking to her,” Ariel says. She is not bad per say, but since she started spending more time with Ruth and her minions, she has started saying the same bullshit as Ruth. “What if the Moon Goddess, I don’t know, punishes us for being close to her?”
Is there an epidemic of reptile brains around the pack? This is why I hate living in this pack because they always blame me for whatever shit happens to them.
I try to push through the circle forming around me when someone jerks my backpack off my back. I spin around, hoping to catch the scent of whoever took my stuff away from me, when a strong scent of oranges hits me.
Jordan.
He is the one who took my backpack. Of course, it had to be him.
“May I have my backpack back?” I ask, trying hard not to sound as pissed as I feel.
After being on my knees all day long scrubbing the floors, all I want to do is retire to my room and sleep. Is that too much to ask?
Jordan smirks—according to Safia. A cigarette is in the left corner of his mouth. “Only if you ask me nicely.”
What is his problem with me? Hadn’t he bullied me enough, now he has to make me beg for my stuff? “Please.”
Ruth snorts. “For someone that lives off the charity of the pack, you should work more on your ‘please.'”
Since I have no family to provide for me, the pack throws me their leftovers—from their old clothes, which most of the time are either too small or too big, to whatever is left from their meals. But I am grateful for everything I get. The shirt I am wearing belonged to one of the warriors of the pack, and when it was too worn out and full of holes, he gave it to me last Christmas. I have a basic sewing kit, so fixing it hasn’t been a problem. And the old jeans, I am pretty sure, belonged to Ruth at some point.
The Crescent Moon Pack isn’t too big—around a hundred members—nor wealthy, like other packs, so hand-me-downs are pretty common. Ruth loves clothes, but she has never been forced to wear stuff from other females. When she is bored of them, she either gives them to another female or to me… if she is generous enough and the clothes are always ruined.
Jordan dangles the backpack in front of me, and I try to grab it. It might be as old as Tutankamon and missing a strap, but it is where I keep my sketches and pencils. I can’t not draw. It is the only thing that keeps me sane, except for Safia.
Jordan takes a puff from his cigarette and blows the smoke in my direction. If I suddenly grab the cigarette and put it out on this tongue, will I at least be granted a quick death?“Tell you what,” Jordan says. “After I look inside the backpack, I will return it to you.”
I would much prefer you did not do that, thank you very much, since I never let anyone see my drawings except Mr. Smith. But of course, I don’t say that out loud.
“No,” I start saying, but Jordan ignores me and opens it.
His eyebrows inch up—courtesy of Safia to let me know— as he pulls out my sketchbook. It is still open on the page I was drawing on—Safia and Titan running through the forest on a full moon night. It is my gift to her for when I turn nineteen.
“What is this?” he asks, his voice shocked and confused.
I feel the others staring at me, but I ignore them. It’s not like I have drugs in there.
“Nothing.” It is not like it is his business anyways. “Give it back!” I demand.
Jordan looks at me, and when Safia lets me know he is angry, I swallow nervously. Jordan is a nuisance, but angry Jordan is a nightmare. The last time I made him angry, he had me starved for days. I do like food.
“Did you just give me an order?” he snarls. His orange scent turns spicy, and I don’t need Safia to know how angry he is.
“No,” I say, my voice low.
He shoves the sketchbook into the backpack before throwing it over his left shoulder. “Since you had the audacity to draw Titan, I am keeping this. I want to see what else you have drawn.”
Ruth laughs. “This mutt knows how to draw?”
“I would not call them drawings. They more resemble scribbles,” Jordan replied sarcastically before leaving—with my backpack.
I am crushed. Scribbles or not, they are mine. I put hours into making them, and I want them back. Though, I know that Jordan won’t return my stuff to me. Tears pool inside my eyes. Without pencils or paper, I can’t draw. Maybe Mr. Smith can give me more, but I feel bad about constantly asking things from him.
Ruth and the others start laughing, and I rush towards the Packhouse. Luckily, no one tries to stop me.
Only three more weeks, and I am free of this pack, especially free of Jordan.
When I get to my room, I slam the door behind me before I fall on my mattress and pull the old quilt that covers it on top of me.
The second I am away from here, I will forget everything about this pack. I won’t miss anyone or anything. Not the old floor that squeaks beneath my feet, nor my room—which used to be a laundry room—not even the walnut tree. I shift on the mattress, and I accidentally hit my leg on the coffee table that is at its foot. In an outburst of anger, Jordan or one of his friends kicked it and broke two of its legs. I saved it from being tossed into the garbage and fixed it.
I huff before removing my sneakers and crawling back under the quilt. As I fell asleep, I realized that I would miss the walnut tree. And Mr. Smith.
An old alarm clock that I keep on the coffee table usually wakes me up around 5 AM. I am so used to getting up so early that sometimes I wake up before the alarm goes off. Today is one of those days. There are a few minutes left until it is 5 in the morning, and I lay awake on the mattress listening to the rain falling outside. It is funny how my name is also Rain. I don’t even know if it was raining when I was born or if my mother or father liked how it sounded and decided to name me that. It is kinda ironic; I’ve never liked the rain, not since I am the one that has to spend the entire day on my knees, cleaning the floors. Sure, there are mops, but the one I had broke months ago, and a new one is yet to be purchased. When the alarm lets me know it is time to get up, I reluctantly turn it off. For once, I want to stay longer in bed and read or draw. Soon I will be able to do that and much more. There are only three weeks left until my birthday, and I am counting down the days. I kic
Jordan takes a few more puffs of his cigarette, letting the ash fall by my feet, before turning on his heels and walking away, leaving a trail of smoke and mud behind him. Fucking asshole! After I clean the mess made by Jordan, I return to the windows. Elly and Andrea, Elly’s best friend, are sitting on a bench next to the rose bushes, talking. They might be the only females that I like from the pack. Probably feeling that I am watching her, Elly looks up, and when she sees me, she waves at me. Andrea does the same. I smile as I wave back. The attack of the Feral Rogues had left Elly pretty shaken up. From the discussions I heard between Dan and Victor, she still has nightmares about that night. There are days that she refuses to get out of bed, for fear of something happening to her. It makes me happy to see her outside. Dan and Victor, who are both Deltas—warriors—train nearby. Since that tragic night, Dan rarely lets Elly out of his sight. I wish I had a brother like him. Once
I squat next to Conrad as we watch the Green River Pack territory. Lately, the feral rogues have been attacking packs around Romania. It started with a small pack, in the South-East, near the Black Sea, and slowly moved to the West. I usually don’t care about what feral rogues do, but they are too close to my territory, to my pack. As a rogue myself—a silver rogue, not a feral one—I have worked hard to secure some land in Baciu Forest and build a pack. Another pack lives within the forest, but my territory is warded, and they can’t enter. I would have liked to have my pack elsewhere, but as a rogue, I have no say in how territories are distributed. I am lucky I was allowed to the land the Elders have given me. Not without paying a large sum of money and granting them many favors—favors that I am still regretting and the rest of the werewolves don’t know about. But at least I am the Alpha of my pack, and I get to lead them without any interference from the Elders.“Any signs of them?”
RavenThe foul scent of the feral rogues reaches my nose. I am not sure if they ever heard of water or if they want to stink on purpose. Caleb and I have been rogues for many years, but we never smelled so awful.‘Because we were forced to take a bath twice a day,’ Caleb reminds me.I growl, not wanting to remember and step into the clearing. I try to spot Mircea’s wolf, but there are at least ten vampires and twenty rogues to kill. Mircea will have to wait.I let the darkness take over and jump on the first vampire I see. He tries to harm me with his long nails and fangs, but years of fighting them had taught me how to sever his head without receiving many wounds. My sharp canines sink into his neck while my claws dig into his chest. Another vampire attacks me from behind, his nails painfully cutting across my ribs. His nails are poisoned with wolfbane, and I already start to feel weaker. The darkness spreads even more, and I welcome it. I rip the head of the first vampire before I f
CalebI look at the female in front of me. Her black eyes scan my body, my scars. I hate being looked at like I am nothing more than a piece of meat.“Give me a moment,” I say, and I rush to retrieve my clothes from where I left them.‘Who do you think she is?’ ‘I don’t know,’ I reply to Raven’s question.Once I am dressed, I return to the clearing. The battle is over. From what I can see, two of my warrior didn’t make it. I will have to let their families and friends know as soon as I return to the pack.“Thank you for saving my life,” I tell her.A crossbow and a quiver with ashwood and silver-tip arrows are across her back. I glance at the rogues and vampires that attacked me—they all have arrows in their foreheads. I should get a crossbow as well.“Tatiana sent me. She said you might need my help,” the female says.I rub the back of my neck. “I didn’t count on the wolfbane.”“It is not only wolfbane; it is mixed with liquid silver.”I look at the vampires. “That explains the numb
The entire Pack House sounds like a beehive, as the last preparations for my ‘big day’ are being finalized. I couldn’t care less for my birthday or about finding my mate, but my father needs me to step in as the Alpha of the pack. Ever since my mother got sick, he has taken on her role as the Luna of the pack, in addition to all of his Alpha duties. This has caused him to spend many sleepless nights working. I love my life as an unmated male, as I can hook up with whomever I want.Someone passes near my room, and the scent of caramelized apples wafts through the gap between the door and the floor—the scent that has been tempting me for months to take a bite from a certain female.Rain.My newest plaything.The previous night came to mind. If she has told me the truth, no male has ever touched her before. I was her first kiss. I bet I can take her virginity by the waterfall too.‘Can you stop being such a douche?’ Titan, my wolf, growls in my head. ’Just because you kissed Rain against
I don’t understand why Titan is so passionate about Rain. He never had a problem with me fooling around with females until now. And for me to treat Rain like she is the most special thing in the world for the next ten days is… ridiculous.I get out of my room and notice Rain cleaning the windows at the end of the hallway. Hadn’t she done that already yesterday? The light of the July sun makes her hair seem like it is on fire. The freckles covering her face are so damn sexy. She hums something under her breath. I wonder what she is thinking about. I tried to do a mind-link with her a few months ago, but because Safia is mute, it wasn’t possible.Except for Rain and me, no one else is in the hallway. I tiptoe until I am right behind her. She doesn’t seem to notice me, as she keeps humming a lullaby while cleaning the fingerprints left by some pups on the windows. A broom closet is to my left. I open the door, pull my right hand around Rain’s mouth and nose, and pull her inside. As soon
My lips still tingle from the kiss Jordan gave me earlier. I don’t understand why he is suddenly acting so nice to me. Until two days ago, he had treated me like I was a slave. ‘Rain, do this; Rain, do that. Rain, you don’t get to eat for two days for breathing.’ Then all of a sudden, he changed. Last night he not only stole my first kiss—which I so wanted to be with my mate—but he also brought me food.He probably only wants sex. But why me? There are plenty of females in the pack to choose from.Once I finish cleaning the windows, I drag my feet to the stairs. If I make Jordan wait any longer, he would probably punish me.The scent of lemons reaches me, and I rush all the way down to the first floor. Females are busy setting the last details to the backyard, where the party is to take place, and I try to make myself as small as possible, not wanting to be spotted.“Rain,” someone suddenly calls my name. “Can I have a word with you?”I could recognize that voice anywhere. My hands tr