The Rogues Mate

No one said growing up a rouge was easy. Always feeling like you don’t belong. Always on the move. That was all going to change for me. My name is Emma. I was born a rouge. My mom, Isabella, was born into the crescent pack. If you looked at her you wouldn’t think she was a rouge. She always dressed respectively and was one of the kindest and compassionate person you would ever meet. My father, Mark, on the other hand, was your typical rouge. At least he looked the part and before I came along, he played the part. While he didn’t steal, kill, or harm people just for the fun of it, he was not afraid to get his hands dirty when it came to me and my mother. We weren’t like most rouges. After I was born, my family didn’t stay on the run and didn’t live in tents. We almost always lived in a house. We mainly lived amongst humans and tried to blend in. Still, with all this normality, my wolf still longed for a pack. Tomorrow was my 18th birthday; I had promised myself that I would leave my parents and I would search for a pack. I knew I would miss my parents, but I wanted to belong to a pack. I wanted to find my mate. I wanted so much more for my life then to be considered a rouge. “Honey, I really wish you would reconsider staying with us.” My mom said with tears in her eyes. “Oh mom, I will miss you so much, but you know I have to do this for myself. This just isn’t the life for me.” I said as I pulled her into a hug. “I know why you are doing this, just because I know, and I understand why it doesn’t mean that I will miss you any less and wish that you would choose differently.” My mother smiled as she wiped away the stray tear that had escaped. My mother was much more understanding than my father. My father tried to talk me out of it from the first time I ever brought it up. “You know packs have rules. They wont just accept you right away. It's going to be a struggle" he would point out. “I know.” I would say, rolling my eyes almost every time. We spent the rest of the night sharing memories of me growing up, memories of my parents before me. My mother was telling me things to expect and her experiences living within a pack. She told me of things she missed and the things that played a factor in why she chose to leave. My father was mainly just sitting and listening to me and my mom talk. As he would call it, he was taking it all in and making a memory. Close to eleven P.M. I decided it was time for me to go to bed. I knew I wanted to get started on my run and search for a pack. I said goodnight to my parents and went to my room for bed. “Happy Birthday to you!” My mother sang as she busted through the door and into the room. She had my favorite chocolate chip pancakes stacked at least 10 high with a purple candle lit on top. My dad followed behind her with an apologetic look on his face. My mother had a way of being over the top. While my father was quiet, sitting in the back and watching type, my mother was the one who always made the moves and was the life of the party. This was one feature I knew I would miss of her. Today was finally the day. The day I would search for my pack. We spent the morning enjoying breakfast. My father was giving me advice on how to handle myself and was helping me to map out which direction I would start. He helped show me different pack territories and suggested ones that he felt I would fit into the most. I began to pack a backpack of clothes. I put a picture the three of us had taken just about a week ago. My mother gave me a necklace as something to “remember her by”. I started by saying goodbye to my mom as I was packing my bag. Her eyes kept tears in them, but one never fell. Then there was a knock on the door, and it was my father. He had an envelope in his hand. “I’m going to go pack you some snacks to take with you” she said as she hurried out of the room. My dad watched her leave and then turned to me. He sat down on the foot of my bed and pressed his hands against the covers, getting some wrinkles out. My dad never really showed much emotion, but he had tears in his eyes just like my mother had. I went and sat down next to him, laying my head on his shoulder. “I’m going to miss you daddy.” “As I will you”. He handed me the envelop. I opened it and saw a wad of cash inside. I looked up at him in surprise. “I began saving this when you were just 16. I knew that the rouge life was not for you. You have to much of a loving personality. You want to help people, so I knew this day would come even before you did. This is all yours. It should hold you over until you find your pack.” He smiled and kissed my forehead. “Remember what I told you, you are strong, independent and can do whatever you want to do.” I smiled at him, at a loss for words, and just decided a hug would have to do. It was finally time. It was almost ten A.M and I was ready. My bag was packed, and I had said goodbye. We lived in Maine. Me and my father decided the best route for me to go would be south. My next stop from here would be New Hampshire. I had about 250 miles to run before I came to the first pack territory on my map in New Hampshire. I decided I could cover more ground in my wolf form. I walked over to the wooded area behind my house, my parents standing at the back door watching me. I walked behind a tree, out of sight, and took off my clothes. I stuffed them in my backpack and then shifted into my wolf. She was giddy and was so ready for this run. My wolf was a pure white, almost sliver color. She had black tips on each of her ears and was a good size for a female wolf. I picked up the backpack in my mouth, stepped out of the trees and took one last look at my parents. My father had my mother pressed to his chest as they both gave me one final wave goodbye. I turned around and let my wife take over. Off we went to start our life.