Rogue Land
2359 Words
Veronica POV
She stomped through the forest like a woman on a mission—except she didn’t actually have a mission. Just mud-caked wedges, a fanny pack full of lip gloss, and rage. Blinding, delicious rage.
“I don’t need him,” she muttered under her breath. “Or his ugly tent pack. Or those disrespectful muscle monkeys he calls warriors.”
Branches whipped at her arms, the forest growing thicker the farther she went. But she didn’t stop.
She could feel them—Brax’s precious guards—lurking somewhere behind her. Watching. Protecting her like she was some helpless little princess. Ugh.
“I’m not your Luna, remember?” she shouted over her shoulder, not bothering to check if they were still there. “Go sniff a tree or something!”
She wasn’t sad, no. If anything she had dodged a bullet. His pack was ridiculous, and to think they call him one of the strongest Alpha’s of the North. He was basically running a rogue camp. If only people knew, and knowing Veronica, she would be telling anyone that wanted to listen, which was everyone.
Eventually, the weight of their presence faded. They must’ve shifted and peeled off once she crossed into her parents’ territory.
She kept going, brushing leaves off her robe, head held high—because if her mother saw her looking like she’d been dragged through the wilderness, she’d never hear the end of it. Not that she was expecting a warm welcome.
Still, part of her had hoped… hoped her mother would have missed her. And not be angry that she was now no longer a Luna.
But the patrol wolves at the gates to her father’s pakc, didn’t budge.
“She said you’re not allowed in,” one of them barked awkwardly, avoiding her eyes.
“What?!” Veronica gaped. “Tell her it’s me.”
“She knows,” the wolf muttered. “She said… you made your choice.”
“What about my father?!”
“He’s out on pack business,”
Veronica stared as the heavy iron doors groaned shut. Her jaw clenched. Fine.
She spun on her heel and marched right back into the woods.
She wasn’t going to beg. Not her mother. Not Brax. Not anyone.
They could all rot in their little mud huts and judgment.
She dropped down onto a mossy boulder and yanked off one of her ruined wedges, rubbing her aching foot. Her fingers brushed over the thin beaded bracelet on her wrist—the one her father had insisted she keep on since she was a kid.
“It keeps things in check,” he’d said once. “Until you’re ready.”
Well, she was ready now. Ready to be done with all of them.
She flicked the beads absently, her mind already spinning.
Where was she supposed to go now?
She couldn’t go home. Couldn’t go to Brax.
Vegas, a voice whispered inside her. The last place she remembered feeling like herself.
Bright lights. No rules. Glitter everywhere.
She could start her own pack there. Yeah. The Pack of Perfection. Every building covered in sequins. A shopping center in the center. Pedicures and pastries every morning.
She’d lead them all in a matching workout set and gold-tipped fangs.
Veronica smiled, and with new found vigor, she continued on.
“This is ridiculous!” Veronica grated out, trying to keep her boobs from spilling out of sports bra— which kept on riding up. She was dressed to seduce an Alpha, not run through a goddamn rainforest! The longer she walked on, the more she regretted her wardrobe choice.
A snapping twig caused her to whip around—heart hammering in her chest. Was someone following her? She’d managed to avoid rogues all day long—but now that it was dusk, the real danger was about to begin. The trees that had given her shade during the day, now seemed to tower over her, their shadows stretching over the forest—giving it a haunted look.
She let out a breath of relief when she noticed a little bunny scurrying away, probably more scared of her than she was of it.
She’d been walking for hours and every step was torture. Her wedges sank into the soft earth, making her wobble like a newborn deer. Her feet were swollen, each step sending a fresh bolt of pain through her.
She wanted nothing more than to rip them off—but the ground was rough, jagged with rocks. If she sliced open her feet, she was screwed. She didn’t know how to clean a wound. She was an Alpha’s daughter, not some survivalist!
Sweat dripped down her back as she pushed forward, but she wasn’t relieved that the sun was going down. On the contrary. Her angst was starting to spike. Who knew what creatures lurked around here at night, and she had no idea where she was.
Son of a—!" She shrieked as her foot caught on a hidden root, her ankle twisting at an unnatural angle. Pain shot up her leg, and she collapsed onto the dirt like a fallen queen. This was it. This was how she died. Alone. In the middle of nowhere. Looking—she was sure of it—absolutely hideous.
This was not how she’d imagined herself to die. She was supposed to be in a comfortable bed—surrounded by the men who loved her, her hair perfectly done, a diamond on every finger—a small smile stretched on her face—until she remembered who had stolen this dream from her.
Brax.
This was all Brax’s fault! If he hadn’t been so difficult, she could have been sleeping in his arms now—in a soft bed. Away from all of this.
And her mother? She was going to regret turning her away! She would come back, like a Phoenix rising from the ashes, coming back even more stunningly beautiful and—
A sharp twig snapped behind her.
She froze.
That wasn’t a bunny. Suddenly, another twig snapped—and then another. The snaps followed each other in quick succession—so quick, that she knew she was in trouble.
A low growl rumbled from behind her, so deep it vibrated through her bones. Veronica's breath hitched and she slowly turned.
Only to see glowing yellow eyes staring back at her.
A scrawny, filthy brown wolf stood just feet away. Its ribcage jutted out, its fur matted with dirt and blood. Its lips peeled back into a snarl, saliva dripping from long, jagged teeth.
And then—another set of eyes appeared in the darkness. Then another.
Veronica’s blood ran cold. She wasn’t just being followed.
She was being hunted.
Faster! Her wolf urged her on as she ran through the trees. Veronica wanted to shift—she would be faster in wolf form—but she would ruin the only outfit she had—and arriving somewhere naked seemed a bit dramatic, even for her.
Take off those goddamn ridiculous shoes! Her wolf growled.
No, I’d rather die like a queen than barefoot like some savage! She shot back, causing her wolf to roll her eyes. Why did she have to get paired with such a stupid human?!
Hey, I heard that! Veronica shot back, and you’re just as vain as I am!
Suddenly, Veronica’s wedge caught on a branch, and she stumbled, before rolling over the damp forest floor—her life flashed before her eyes—as she came to a halt against a large rock, scraping her knee—and breaking the beaded bracelet around her wrist.
It was as if a ripple raced through her—and Veronica suddenly felt…oddly powerful. Like something had shifted inside of her.
A low chuckle slithered through the air.
The rogues surrounded her, bare teeth flashing in twisted grins, before, one by one, they shifted back into their human forms. Goddess, they reeked.
Filthy, sunken-eyed, and starving. They smelled of sweat, blood, and something rancid—something wrong. Their ribs jutted out, skin stretched thin over bones, but their eyes burned with hunger.
Not for food.
For her.
“Well, well, what do we have here?” one of them rasped, his voice a dry croak, like he hadn’t had water in days. His head twitched unnaturally to the side, his cracked lips curling into a sick grin.
“We haven’t seen a girl in a while,” another one murmured, twitching fingers dragging down his own chest as if imagining touching her.
Veronica’s arms folded across her chest on instinct—trying to hide any bare flesh. She felt exposed—dirty.
Her eyes darted around wildly, searching for an escape route. But she was outnumbered. Five to one.
“What’s the matter, Princess? Don’t you want to have a good time?” Another one smiled sinisterly. Veronica shook her head, causing them all to chuckle.
“We don’t come across girls in these parts, especially ones dressed like that. It seems like you wanted attention, well, congratulations, you have it.” The forth rogue spoke.
“Don’t worry, we’ll make it good for you too.” The fifth winked, before smelling the air. “Oh, boys, we have ourselves an Alpha female here. She’ll give us some strong pups,”
“Hold her down, I want to go first,” One of them said, practically salivating.
“No, I’m going first!”
“The hell you are!”
The men started fighting among themselves, giving Veronica an opening. She slowly crawled away, until one of them noticed.
“Hey! Where do you think you’re going?!” He yelled. She wanted to run—but before she could jump up, he’d grabbed her by the leg, pulling her back.
Veronica planted her nails in the forest floor, desperate to get away. The smell of damp air entered her nostrils as she clamored to hold on, dry leaves flying through the air as she struggled.
Veronica turned around and planted her wedge in his face—a loud crack echoed through the air.
“That was my nose, you b***h!” He screamed, causing the other men to turn to the cause of the noise.
Shit, she was in trouble now.
They rushed towards her, each one eager to get to her first—to claim her before the other one could. But before any of them could touch her, Veronica let out a hum—on instinct.
The sound curled through the air—causing the men to still, there eyes unfocused—a lazy smile dawning on their faces. Veronica was surprised it worked. She had no idea what she was doing.
What’s happening, she asked her wolf, but no response came.
“Now, go away,” Veronica snapped—but she was exhausted, like whatever she was doing, was draining her. The men turned and slowly walked off.
But one of them paused, taking one step forward, and one step back. He shook his head—a confused snarl leaving his lips—until he turned around completely, his eyes locked onto her.
Veronica blinked, trying to keep the others… hypnotized?—but her control was slipping as she scurried backwards, away from the rogue stalking towards her.
“What the f**k was that?” He grated out, watching his friends walk away—out into the overgrown forest, before disappearing from view.
“You’re a siren,” He gased, his eyes going wide. “Plan’s changed. You’ll fetch us a good price at the black market. But not before I get a little taste,” He smirked, stalking closer to her. Veronica’s fingers played with the straps of her wedges until her feet slid free. She pushed up on her legs, ignoring the painful sting in her ankle.
This man was clearly delusional, but how else could she explain what was happening to her?
But before she could get away—the feral rogue tackled her to the ground—slamming her into a rock. Veronica groaned—trying to find her bearings, before letting out a shriek, when she noticed one of her wedges had cracked—the heel broken clean off.
“Oh my Goddess, do you know how much these cost?!”
The rogue barked out a laugh—but Veronica wasn’t joking. She closed her eyes, forcing herself to focus. She had no idea what she was doing, or if this would even work. It was like her body knew what to do, and her mind wasn’t catching on.
Still—she hummed. The melody was low and ominous.
The rogue’s smirk faltered—his brows furrowing. His head jerked to the side, his eyes full of confusion, until—he screamed.
His eyes widened with sheer terror as he slapped at his arms, his chest, his neck. “No, no—get off! GET OFF! SPIDERS!”
His body convulsed, swatting frantically at invisible horrors. Veronica exhaled sharply, watching in fascination.
Spiders. She smirked. Big, tough rogue… terrified of spiders.
The man let out one final, inhuman screech before he turned and fled into the woods, crashing through the underbrush, still thrashing at his own skin.
Veronica staggered upright, her entire body weighed down by exhaustion, but she needed to keep going. They might come back for her.
Her legs burned, her head pounded, but she pushed forward, gripping her ruined shoes.
By the time she reached a clearing, her body betrayed her and her knees buckled—exhaustion claimed her, and the darkness swallowed her whole.
Elsewhere…
A hooded figure knelt before the towering Alpha, their forehead pressed to the ground. “Alpha,” they rasped, voice raw with reverence. “The siren’s veil has lifted.”
Silence. Then, the sharp clink of glass as Alaric Blackthorn set down his drink. His golden eyes gleamed in the candlelight.
“…Isadora?” he mused, voice dripping with curiosity.
The hooded figure hesitated. “No, Alpha. She feels younger."
A slow, predatory smile spread across Alaric’s face.
“Interesting.”
- Writer
