Eighty-Seven: Oliver

Oliver's P.O.V.

The rogues had moved in further, inching forward each hour. I had been fine with my order to stay hidden, not wanting to risk any of my pack members by exposing myself and causing the rogues to attack. There was a chance that they were surrounding our neighboring packs because they weren't sure which one I was in.

Why they wanted me so badly, I didn't know. Surely, the few dozen I had taken down compared to their current size wasn't that big a loss to them, yet they were waiting. Each day, they were just waiting, watching, and inching forward.

They were taking the land that my family had fought for generations to protect. What was worse was their smell was slowly permeating our lands the longer they stayed at our border. The disgusting stench of their unbathed and dirty bodies only slightly covered the smell of their rotting skin and decaying muscles. A sure sign they had been rogues for a long time.

A wolf could only go so long without a pack before the wolf and