Taken by the Rogue Alpha

1 | Golden Hour

This chapter contains brief s****l content.

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The room is warm when I wake up. A blade of orange light cuts across my eyes but for the most part it's still dark. I touch a hand to my forehead, sweat wetting my fingers as I pull them away. That strange man from the bar has infiltrated another night of my dreams, as he has been doing in the week since I saw him. His eyes are always the last thing I see before waking—bright blue like a blooming flower. It's making me nervous. I don't like that I know what this means.

I roll onto my side. Jeremy is staring at me and it seems like he has been doing so for a while. His face is calm. Peaceful. He's leaving for work today for two weeks. I have to drive him to the airport later this morning. He'll be leaving to some place in a neighboring province called Muneland. It's pronounced "moon-lun." Sometimes I wonder why you can't just pronounce things as they are spelled.

The same goes for the place we live, I suppose. Wolphille. Pronounced similar to "waffle," but to insiders it's affectionately called "Wolf-ville." Yes, if you are wondering, it is intentional. These places have been built from root to tip by wolves, but humans have settled and thrived over time. Many are naïve to the presence of wolves—as far as they are concerned they just live in a very strange town brimming with opportunity. Others, like myself, not so much. Jeremy gives me the ins and outs of all sorts of dynamics.

I know what Jeremy is. I have known for years. Wolves who choose humans must divulge their secret to them or the bond cannot grow into maturity. Humans who are not mated are not told. There is no reason for them to know.

"Hey," he greets, morning voice croaky. I like it when his voice is like that. "Why are you awake so early?"

"You ask like you also aren't awake early," I smile, and scooch closer. He wraps his arm around me. "How are you feeling?"

"I don't want to leave you. That guy may come back for you."

Seth. I don't want to tell Jeremy I know his name, and I haven't. I won't. I heard it in my dreams—he whispered it to me. There is nothing I gain from knowing his name except for doubt. Intrusive thoughts brush me every now and then, leaving me questioning if Jeremy is truly my soulmate. It's been quite disruptive but I let on nothing. I love him—he could have chosen to bond with anyone and he decided to choose me—but I question the future. I have never done that before. This tension is unwelcome but I can't cast it away. I can, however, ignore it, which I have been trying to do.

"And so what if he does? I love you," a weird surge passes through me. "You are the one for me. Just like you chose me, I choose you."

"I should call in, tell them I'm not interested in doing this anymore. Get them to send someone else. I'm worried. He thinks you belong to him."

Rogues, as Jeremy has explained to me, do not get to choose their mates; it would be a lot less chaotic if they did. They tend to get paired with those, sometimes human but mostly other wolves, already chosen by "pack-wolves"—wolves established in a community with other wolves—but it is not known why this happens. Some cruel twist of fate, perhaps?

Rogues tend to form their own congregations but they are never fully established. If a wolf settles in a pack-community they are obligated to that community, but their children are not if they feel compelled to leave and move elsewhere. Most choose to stay, however, due to an innate sense of loyalty. Humans can come and go as they please as well, even if they are mated—but if they are mated they rarely, if ever, end up leaving...unless extraordinary circumstances arise.

Rogues tend to settle outside of pack-communities and cause trouble within these communities—whether it's making a ruckus, harassing businesses, looting...disrupting a mate-bond. Socially and historically the two groups have always been at odds, and because rogues are not tethered to a community they are the ones forced to become nomadic. It's a tale as old as time. Rogue activity within a community is, in most cases, never a good sign. Case in point.

"He can think whatever he wants but it matters nothing to me. I love you, okay? It's only you. I promise. Please believe me," I settle my hand on his cheek, the same weird surge happening again. "You have nothing to worry about. I'll be right here when you get back. I always will."

Jeremy has become a respected, but somewhat shadowy, figure within the community—not everyone can put a face to the name. We can go out to a bar, for example, and no one will recognize him. Go to a grocery store, however, and suddenly he has a fan-club!

He is young, twenty-four as I am, but his ancestors were one of the founders of this town. Dozens of generations of his family have ran Wolphille and his parents are getting ready to hand the responsibility over to him soon in the future. His work in Muneland involves settling some disputes within another pack-community; he is remarkably adept, compared to his parents, at calming those conflicts. He is capable, educated, charismatic—a natural. He will become, what the wolves call, Alpha. And I will be at his side.

If all goes right.

"He makes me nervous. I saw that look in his eyes. He will come back."

"We have friends, Jem," he smiles. It's been my nickname for him since we first met and it always placates him. "They'll keep an eye out. So will I. It will be okay."

He kisses me and I close my eyes.

"I love you and I'm going to miss you. I'll call every night."

"Please do, otherwise I may forget you," I laugh.

"Oh, is that right?" he smiles, rolling on top of me. The butterflies have been absent for a week but I still get excited at these encounters. His eyes are like pools of honey as they look down at me. "I should probably start making sure that doesn't happen now, shouldn't I?"

He kisses me again, cupping my breast. I'm already naked from last night. I sigh as his lips move to adhere to my neck, the spot where a mark is placed. He has been nurturing this spot more the past week than ever before. I know he wants to break the flesh but he's promised me he won't. I don't want to lose my status of being an autonomous partner. Some mates do it, some don't. It used to be a symbol for marriage but over the centuries wolves have adopted the human tradition. A mark is now an unnecessary, but sometimes desired, statement of ownership that serves as a warning more than a barrier. They look like permanent, faded bruises and cast off a faint smell only perceptible to other wolves and mated humans, but they are not visible or perceptible at all to unmated humans.

Rogues almost always place a mark...forcefully, often just for the sake doing it.

He kisses down my stomach, grabbing my wrists and pinning them to my sides as his face rests between my legs. He has nothing to worry about, I try to convince myself. It's just him and I. We love each other above all else. I will fight against the outside force intent on destroying us.

I will not let Seth fracture us.

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We pull up to airport drop-off and get out of my car, unloading his suitcases from my trunk. I am glowing from our morning together and am sad to see him leave—a part of me is scared, too, sharing in his worries for my own reasons. But I know better than to express that. I had only barely convinced him to go again after we had s*x. I don't want him to make any unnecessary sacrifices. His name gets more and more reputable as the months pass. There have been some pretty terrible ancestors of his. His parents have done some questionable things, too. No leader is perfect, but he will be much greater than many before him. The town will experience a mini Golden Age under him, I'm certain.

We rest his things on the sidewalk and embrace. He holds me tight, squeezing me, telling me he loves me and can't wait to come back. I tell him the same. It is a crisp morning and it will be a warm day. There is not a cloud in the sky. It smells and feels like summer. The last month of summer always feels the most summery here, even as the leaves start to change color.

Jeremy takes my face in his hands, lowering his forehead against mine. Standing straight, the top of my head comes up to the bottom of his nose. It makes kissing so much easier.

Intrusive thought: Seth was tall.

I shake my head, Jeremy asks me what's wrong. I just tell him I'm just going to miss him a lot. Our lips meet, almost desperately. So many times we have parted ways here and never before has it been so difficult—it has never been easy, mind you, but this time is especially melancholy. I think Jeremy knows what I am thinking more than he lets on. Thank goodness mind-reading is only a myth.

This would be a very different situation if it wasn't.

"I should go," he breathes. "If I don't go now I'm never going to."

"Yes, I understand," I nod. "I love you. Text me when you land so I know you made it safely. I love you."

"I love you, Amelia."

He grabs his suitcases and I lean against my car, watching as he walks away, lacing my hands in front of me. His blond hair is woven gold in the sunlight. He has always had an angelic, ethereal quality to him. I will never forget how flattered I was when he befriended me and, later, asked me on a date, then eventually asked me to be his girlfriend...and, finally, his soulmate. It wasn't all lovely, but most of it was.

Before he passes through the doors he turns around and blows me a kiss. I pretend to catch it and put it in my pocket. He disappears, I stay against my car for an extra moment, then slip inside when I feel ready. I rewind my Tom Petty CD to the beginning and drive, tapping my finger to the steering wheel, lowering the visor as the sun pierces my eyes, glancing at the photo of him and I from high-school I have clipped onto it. The age of acne, braces, and angst.

I think of the night at the bar and turn the CD off. Enough of that.

Maybe I should have asked Jeremy to stay.