Rogue Rage

Chapter 9 (Maddock)

One thousand sixty-seven, one thousand sixty-eight, one thousand sixty-nine, one thousand seventy. For f**k’s sake. After returning to my room in the pack house, I thought sleep would come easy. My body was worn down from forcing myself through the evening meal, but my mind would not quiet. I kept thinking about the gates and how Mabel had not walked through them with Sam. I kept thinking about another male at her side, twice her age or not, and how badly it scraped at something primal in me. It was ridiculous. She barely seemed interested, and still, there I was—jealous, restless, and far too aware of how quickly I was beginning to care.

I didn’t just want sleep, I needed it. Maybe I needed to run. Months ago, that would have been enough. But now, with Riven barely stirring inside me, shifting no longer felt like freedom. It felt like losing another piece of myself every time. Even the earth felt different beneath my claws. I still loved the bite of it, the pull of muscle and bone, the hard rhythm of a run through dark trees—but something had changed. Maybe it was the soil. Maybe it was me. Either way, something was wrong. My chest felt hollow, like something that belonged there had been carved out.

I placed my hand over my chest. I didn’t know what I was expecting. I couldn’t will myself back to normalcy. I didn’t even know if I wanted to go back to how I had been: a snide comment, an easy laugh, an open book. The brother who never took anything too seriously until things went too far.

I ran both hands through my hair, scraping my scalp with my nails. I stood and dressed quickly. If I wasn’t going to be able to sleep, I might as well start on the task Alpha wanted me to look into.

I stood at the post Max and Drew shared. Max stood stiffly, looking out into the darkness. He knew why I was there. I doubted the Alpha had told him, but I was sure he understood when he and his brother were first questioned about the other scents. It had been some time since they were there. One was earthy with a touch of musk. A male. The other was stronger, damp and muggy with femininity. A female? Or a male with a female’s scent on him. Somehow, it seemed familiar. I just couldn’t place it. I did know that neither of these scents belonged to Max or Drew. Their aromas were still ever-present.

I did my best to follow the scent but got sidetracked by a spunky brunette walking through the stronghold. From her perspective, I was on the wall watching her. It didn’t escape me that she had entered alone. What bothered me was the fact that everyone in the gathering area was long gone. The main kitchen was cleaned up and closed for the night. She also wasn’t carrying any mushrooms, Sam wasn’t with her, and most importantly, she had faint bruises on her cheeks. I hopped down from the watchtower beside her. She jolted, nearly falling over.

“What’s your problem?” She snapped, grasping her chest as if her heart was going to jump through it.

“What happened to your face?” She looked around and then pulled me under the watchtower. It wasn’t completely secluded, but it would be hard to see us in its shadow, even from a few feet away. Once she turned to me, I repeated the question with more force. “What happened to your face?”

She touched her face and winced when her fingers brushed her left cheek. “Ouch. I don’t know. Must have been the cliff. I nearly fell, but Samuel caught me and I hit the wall a little.” She dusted off her leather pants like that explained everything. It didn’t. She was lying, or at least leaving out the part that mattered. Every instinct in me wanted to press harder, to get between her and whatever had put those marks on her face. But I had no claim on her. Not yet. So, I locked my jaw and held back.

I looked toward the entrance. “Where’s Sam?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. He walked me to the gates and said he’d be in later.”

“He didn’t say where?” I asked, keeping my voice even. I needed answers without letting her see how badly I wanted them.

“Did you want me to interrogate him?” She crossed her arms and stared me down. “I don’t know him that well. He said he’d be back, and I took him at his word. Next time, I’ll tell him you asked.”

“Don’t bother.” I glanced at her empty hands. “I thought you were picking mushrooms.”

“Dropped them when I nearly went over the cliff.” I nodded, though I didn’t believe her. Standing this close to her, with her scent mixed with Sam’s cutting through the night air and those faint bruises darkening her cheek, something in me settled and sharpened at the same time. I felt calmer than I had all evening—and more dangerous for it. Damn it. I really did have a thing for her.

“Okay, well, good night.” I grabbed her wrist before she could walk away. She was headed for the fence.

“Where do you live? I’ll walk you.”

There was hesitation in her eyes. “No offense, but being seen with you walking me home sounds like a mistake. It’ll be all anyone can talk about tomorrow, and I have no desire to be the subject of conversation. So, good night.”

She walked off without waiting for an answer. Every part of me wanted to follow. I could have told myself it was to make sure she made it home alive, but that would have been a lie dressed up as honor. I wanted to know where she slept. I wanted to know where to find her when morning came. I stood there and watched her disappear into the dark, hating how quickly she had become something I noticed, something I tracked without meaning to. One hundred and twenty-two steps before she rounded the side of a house and slipped from view. I counted every damn one.

That thought dragged me straight down into a place I hated. The village had been built to protect the head of the pack, every home arranged like limbs around the gathering area, every path leading back to power. The Great Alpha’s house sat against the mountain, safe where danger was least likely to reach. Gabriel had refused it when he became Alpha and moved Kate into the pack house instead. I respected him for that. I hated myself for what it reminded me of. When our parents died, Leon and I were taken into the pack house. Kate was sent to the old huts—cold, forgotten places kept around as proof of how far we had supposedly come. All they proved now was that my little sister had lived in one for years while I slept warm, ate well, and let myself believe I had suffered enough.

My jaw tightened until my teeth felt ready to crack. Mabel was long gone, and the spiral of my thoughts had soured what little good mood I had left. I wasn’t getting anywhere tonight. Tomorrow, I would question anyone who might have been in the tower. For now, there was nothing more to learn.