The Rogue Queen

Chapter 8 - Rogues - Asher

It had been weeks since the tribunal. I had been running daily to burn through the feelings I had inside me. Between the hunters' relentless assault and the rogues that were constantly circling the pack boundary looking for a weak point, the pack was starting to tire. To make matters worse, ten more wolves had gone missing without a trace.

It also didn't help that Angus wasn't talking to me. He only showed up if they were in danger, as he refused to be that angry that others would suffer for my stupidity, as he put it.

My thoughts drifted to my former mate. She was perfect in every way, well except one.

I remember the day we met, the way my heart sang out when I gazed into her perfect sky-blue eyes. We were a perfect team of brains and brawn. Her being the brains, yet, I wish the Goddess hadn't saddled me with an abomination. I would have loved her to be by my side now. With all the activity, I could have split my attention and given her some of the load and focused on one problem while she tackled the other. It was what we had always done. Now, I was alone.

"And we will always be alone." Angus growled, “You think that you will get a second-chance mate after you tossed out the last gift given to you?”

"She wasn't a gift, Gus. She had magic, forbidden magic. She was an abomination. She is only lucky the council chose not to kill her. I made my decision to protect the pack."

"Yet you wish she were here to help you. You should have protected our mate." he growled, "Have you once stopped to consider whether the Goddess gave her that ability for a reason? Maybe we need the bloodline of the witch for what we are facing? Nothing with the Goddess is a coincidence, and it is clear our mate was scared, alone, and abandoned by the one person she should have been able to trust no matter what. So yes, Asher, I am ashamed of you, to be connected to you. If it didn't harm others, I would just fade back into the Spirit and leave you wolfless for your actions."

My throat tightened at his words. Angus and I used to be a well-oiled machine, but now everything is a fight.

I took in a deep breath, "Angus, I am sorry. Please, don't leave me." I said to him with a whine. "How do we come back together?"

"Get our mate back." he responded with a huff.

I sighed at his request. I had read Calliope's letter. I don't cry often, but I couldn't hold back when I saw it and her wedding band on my nightstand.

I knew she had been just as scared of what she carried inside her as I was. I was filled with conflicting emotions of fear of her powers, and then regret for not having stood by her in her time of need. It angered me even more that Anderson did what I should have done, and that he got to hold her. I had smelled him all over the house, and even now I felt jealous of him. He was with her. Maybe Angus was right.

I sighed, what have I done? Then, to add, my father now hated her. The second he had learned of her 'gifts', he threatened to kill her right there. I was barely able to convince him to call in the Council of Elders to prevent a riot if others had learned of it and wondered why she wasn't given a fair trial.

“That isn't possible and you know it, the council exiled her, and we cannot leave the pack right now even if we wanted to. Plus, dad hates her.”There was a silence between us. So I continued, "and I am still afraid of her. Her magic is not something a werewolf should have. We both know this. I am not ashamed of my decision. But I am willing to admit that maybe I was quick to judge and rash in my actions. But I still think she is going to get someone hurt by her magic. Above my own feelings, my own needs, this pack comes first. Father can't hold the pack forever, and I will take over soon. You told me yourself Dante is getting tired. I can see it in my father's face; he doesn't even need to say it. Let's deal with these threats together. After the pack is safe, we will discuss Calliope and whether we should go after her and beseech the Council of Elders for forgiveness."

This seemed to work. I could feel his attitude towards me change.

"I agree with this." he replied. “I will also hold you to your word. But we will be lucky if she even wants us back, if we even deserve her at all.”

My heart dropped at that thought. What if she didn't want to come home? What if she was mad enough not to forgive me? What would I do? I sighed. No matter the outcome, I would at least set things right between us, fix things with the council. I owe her at least that much.

Angus was with me now and I could feel him. Now I felt stronger with him actively by my side once more. With the recent threats from rogues and hunters, security needed to be tightened and I needed him more than anything.

I took a drink of water from a stream and continued my patrol. My senses were on high alert as I moved silently through the dense underbrush, every rustle and whisper in the wind analyzed with precision. I knew I was putting myself at risk, but protecting my pack was paramount.

My warriors were worn thin. Someone had to keep this sector on watch, at least until our allies from the White River Pack could arrive. They had promised the support of a unit of warriors.

As I ventured deeper into the territory, my enhanced hearing picked up faint, approaching footsteps. The footsteps grew louder, and the rustling of leaves and snapping of twigs signaled that someone or something was coming closer. My instincts tensed my muscles as my hackles bristled.

In the eerie moonlit clearing, five rogues emerged from the shadows, their eyes glinting with an eerie hunger. They were here for blood.

My heart pounded as I prepared for a confrontation.

They surrounded me with malicious grins, their sharp claws and teeth glinting in the moonlight. They thought they had this fight and that the reckless Alpha would fall to them this night, but I had another plan for them.

Without a second thought, I transformed into my war form. A powerful half-man, half-wolf form built for combat. Capable of shifting between four paws and two legs. My powerful muscles bulged beneath my fur, and a fierce growl escaped my jaws as I locked eyes with the rogues.

In unison, they lunged at me, claws and fangs bared, intent on tearing me apart. Angus gave me a resolute nod, he was with me. Fear left my mind and I focused on the battle that was coming my way quickly.

The ensuing battle was brutal and intense. The rogues proved to be formidable adversaries, and our skirmish quickly escalated into a fierce confrontation. Their desperate hunger for dominance lent them a savage ferocity that matched my own unwavering determination.

The clash of forces was relentless, as if nature itself had conspired to make this night a testament to our enduring spirits.

Each strike and counterstrike was like a thunderous crescendo, echoing through the dark forest. Our claws clashed with a metallic clang, and our snarls and growls merged into a cacophony of violence. The moon above watched silently, casting a pale glow over the tumultuous scene.

Amid the chaos, I locked eyes with the rogue leader, a menacing figure who had orchestrated this assault. With a primal roar, we charged at each other, colliding with an explosive force that sent tremors through the very earth beneath our feet. The leader was a fierce adversary, his eyes burning with malevolence as he swung at me with relentless fury.

Our battle was a tempest of fury, and neither of us yielded an inch. Every move I made was met with brutal opposition from the rogue leader. His savage determination mirrored my own as we tore into each other with an almost animalistic instinct. Each blow he struck threatened to end it all, yet my unwavering resolve drove me to match him, strike for strike.

As time wore on, I could feel my strength waning with each passing blow. My once impenetrable defenses were starting to falter, and my limbs felt heavier with exhaustion. My body ached from the myriad of injuries I had sustained in the relentless combat.

The very air felt electric with tension, the fight becoming a grueling test of endurance as the rogue leader and I engaged in a relentless duel of dominance and survival.

Every moment felt like an eternity, and I could taste the metallic tang of blood in my mouth. The throbbing pain of my injuries seemed unending, but so was my resolve. My pack depended on me, and I couldn't afford to give in, even as my movements grew more sluggish and my breaths labored.

The battle had transformed into a brutal marathon of willpower, where neither side was willing to yield. Yet, through the haze of agony and fatigue, I held on, determined to emerge victorious for the sake of my pack.

Just as I felt myself flagging, a shadowy figure emerged from the darkness, our pack's skilled healer, Elena. She exuded a calm but powerful aura, and the rogues faltered for a split second, uncertain about the sudden reinforcement. A grin formed on her face and she charged in to protect my flank.

I felt the tide of this battle turn. Her swift, precise movements and focused energy allowed her to neutralize the rogues' attacks. In the chaos of battle, her presence was like a beacon of hope, bolstering my strength and resolve.

Each fallen rogue would never threaten the pack again, their lives extinguished in the fierce brawl. The remaining two rogues, daunted by the sight of their comrades' demise, fled into the obscurity of the night.

I was left battered and injured, bloodied from the battle. The healer immediately went to work, tending to my wounds with her practiced hands and soothing aura. I gave her a warm smile. Her care was a welcome relief as I began to heal, grateful for her presence and very fortunate arrival.

After my wounds were tended, she insisted on continuing with me on the remainder of the patrol. I was hesitant at first, but unsure if the rogues would return, I finally relented and accepted her companionship.