To Love a Rogue

My breath steamed out in front of me as it met the morning air. It was late in the year now, and the scent on the wind suggested that the first snow of the season would be here by the evening to settle the town in for the Winter. Blue Creek was a small, mountain town. Small enough that I had caused a stir arriving on my own at 19 last year, small enough that I knew everyone by sight and scent in less than a week. Small enough to be safe. "Good morning Hazel!" I waved warmly to the older gentleman raking in the front yard as I left through my door. "Good morning Mr Halson, looks like snow later, you should make sure you head to the store sooner rather than later today." I paused briefly at his gate, "Is it worth popping in on Mrs Firth?" Mr Halson, creaked himself slowly back to survey the clear blue sky before peering at me doubtfully. "You do have a knack for these things young lady, I think I might just take your advice this time." He propped his rake up against the fence separating our small abodes. "Don't want a repeat of the storm. If you don't mind, could you ask Brandon to see in on her? She's getting mighty confused and I hate to say it, but you gave her a bit of a scare last week" I flashback to the frail old hand that flung ornaments towards me with surprising force. "I think you're right Mr Halson, she doesn't know who I am most days." He looked at me with pity, and I smiled ruefully back. Mrs Firth was the reason I had chosen Blue Creek, what seemed like a lifetime ago. I had needed to leave, quickly. But when your whole life is the pack, where do you go? How could I possibly fend for myself after a life of co-dependency? Then I remembered, the trip to visit a forgotten great-uncle and his mate, she had spent the day playing with me, being kind. We left them that evening and we never saw him again, I heard my parents talking about his human mate. They spoke that word with a tone that scared me. I knew he had left the pack, he felt like my only option when I now needed to leave too. The internet was my saviour then, searching, hunting for any trace of my great-uncle, although there was nothing to be found. Yet, Margaret Firth, the name of that human mate, returned me a sliver of hope, a photo of a festival queen in a town called Camborn almost 50 years ago. I ran that night, with only what would fit in one bag. I ran for miles as a woman, as a wolf, swimming through large rivers, caking myself in mud. I ran for 6 days and arrived a mess. The only scent was of humans, but I had never been around humans and didn't know where to begin my search. I went to the police station, knowing enough that they were supposed to look after towns and their people. As I walked up the steps of the station, a woman walked out the glass doors ahead, and almost into me. I sidestepped quickly. She spun around to apologize and froze. We had a conversation where she was horrified at my state, where I told her I'd run away, where she told me she was a social worker and she pulled me quickly away from the Police Station. It turned out not all Police are helpful she had warned me, and she took me to a church center and got me cleaned up and found me some more clothes. She asked my plans, I said I was looking for my uncle and Aunt, and she said she had known that family. Two days in the church hostel and she had found where Margaret Firth was now, her great-niece from her brother had corroborated the name of my uncle and told her where she had last been. And to Blue Creek I went. What I found was that my great-uncle had passed the previous year, but Mrs Firth was happy to see me, had remembered me. She regaled me with how they had run here when the packs new Alpha had turned against her, and had been here for 15 years since. She helped me get a job, and in turn, a small rental. And not once since that first conversation did she bring up werewolves. I was grateful. It didn't take long for me to realize how much losing a mate can damage a human though. As the days and weeks went by she remembered me less, spiralled into fits of delusion and hallucination. I tried, the whole town tries, the human doctors say it's a rare form of Alzheimer's... I know better. Because of her kindness I was able to make a new life for myself here. A human life. I look back up at Mr Halson who is studying me knowingly. "I'm just happy I got to know her for a time." I took a deep breath and set off towards the high street. "Call Kirsty if you need me to bring anything back tonight Mr Halson." "Will do Hazel." He waved me off to work. The walk was brisk, refreshing almost, I had to sidestep kids on their way to school and mothers with prams. I greeted townsfolk as was expected and kept my head down. The slab paving transitioned into brick walkways and I tuned onto the high street. I froze briefly, flaring my nostrils as I picked up an unfamiliar scent. A strangers SUV was parked up in front of the hardware store. This wasn't entirely unusual, sometimes hunters came through, or campers or tourists, although, the smell was different somehow on this one. After a quick glance around though, I carried on. I popped my head into the grocery store and found Brandon, Mr Halson's grandson stacking shelves, he nodded and said he would pop in on my aunt later. Next door I found that Jodie had already got my order ready, and the two steaming coffees sat on the counter. I thanked her, warned her of snow and paid her with a generous tip. I sipped on my latte as I finished the final stretch of my journey to work. I walked into the bakery, handed the second coffee to my boss Kirsty, and put on my apron. "Mmm, Hazel, you're a star" she took a long sip. "Not to worry, Boss, go take your break." She had been up since the c***k of dawn to make sure cakes and loaves were on the shelves. Kirsty had taken a real chance on me when Mrs Firth had asked around town. Kirsty's daughter had just left for college and she needed a general hand around her store. It was a risk for her small business to trust a nobody stranger, but I'm so glad she did. The bell rang on the door as a customer entered. The smell that I had associated to the SUV wafted in as a tall, dark haired stranger followed it. He sniffed the air vigorously, it unnerved me. "Er, nothing like fresh baked bread is..." My sentence trailed off as I began to take notice of a deeper scent, a wolf scent. My heart started to race, and my legs wanted to run, but I froze to the spot. His eyes locked on to mine, dark gray. He bared his teeth in a snarl. I took a step back from the counter as the force of his stare grew. "Rogue" he spat.