Rogue Rage

Chapter 16 (Maddock)

“She went into the camp and heard some drama. Did she see or hear anything else?” Leon asked, hunched over Gabriel’s desk with both hands planted on the old wood. A single lamp burned low beside the scattered reports, throwing hard shadows across the office walls. The room still smelled faintly of cedar polish, ink, and Gabriel’s training leathers hanging near the door.

“That’s what you’re focused on?” My voice came out low, but there was enough steel in it to make Leon glance up. I forced my hands open at my sides when I realized they had curled into fists. “She’s small, untrained, and Sam sent her straight into rogue territory like she was a blade he could afford to lose.”

Leon’s jaw tightened, but his voice stayed even. “I get it, Maddock. I do. But it’s done. Pounding holes in the floor won’t change that. What we need now is every detail she can give us—where Damian’s camp sits, how many rogues were there, what she heard, what she saw. Anything could matter.”

I paced behind the chairs in front of the desk, each step measured because if I let myself move any faster, I would put my fist through something Gabriel cared about. “She could have been killed,” I said, quieter this time. The restraint only made the anger feel heavier. “And if death was the kindest thing waiting in that camp, then we need to start asking ourselves what the hell we’re doing letting men make decisions like that for women who can’t survive the consequences.”

“Maddock,” Leon warned. Not loud. Not weak either. He straightened from the desk, broad shoulders blocking the lamplight behind him. “I can’t go back in time. I can’t undo what’s already been done, and neither can you. Not by growling at me. Not by threatening Sam. Not by wearing a path into Gabriel’s floor.” I stopped pacing and dragged air through my nose until my ribs hurt. The wolf in me wanted blood. The man in me knew better. Barely. I had come too close to losing control when I confronted Sam, and even now I could still feel the words I had thrown at him sitting bitter on my tongue. I had reminded him where he started in this pack, low and sharp enough to draw blood. Maybe it was a low blow. Maybe I should have regretted it more. But all I could see was Mabel covered in mud, bruised, exhausted, and still standing like she expected no one to protect her. She had been put in harm’s way, and every calm word in this room felt like another excuse for it.

“Tomorrow, I’ll hear what the girl has to say about the camp,” Leon said. His voice had gone flat in the way it did when he stopped speaking as my brother and started speaking as the man responsible for this pack while Gabriel was gone. He moved a report aside, then pressed one thick finger to the map spread across the desk. “Based on what she gives us, we decide whether sending a team is necessary or whether we hold position until the Alpha and Luna return. If the numbers are low enough, I’m hoping Damian’s people won’t be an immediate threat. Until then, I’ve doubled the guards around the perimeter.”

The lamp hissed softly between us. Outside the office windows, the village had settled into a guarded silence, broken only by the occasional footstep of patrol moving along the fence line. Every creak of Gabriel’s old chair, every shift of paper beneath Leon’s hand, grated against the anger I was trying to keep locked behind my teeth.

Leon looked up from the map. “If I have to send a team out, I want you and Sam leading it together.”

I stared at him, certain I had heard him wrong. “That had better be a joke.”

“It isn’t.”

A slow, ugly heat moved through my chest. I rolled my shoulders once, forcing my hands to stay open instead of closing around the back of the nearest chair. “You want me to run beside the same man who sent her into that camp covered in mud and hope? A girl half our size, with no warrior training, no escort, and no real way out if things went wrong.”

Leon’s jaw tightened. “I want the two men with the most knowledge of the camp, its location, and the surrounding territory to keep this pack alive. You know the land. Sam knows rogues. He knows how they think, how they move, and what kind of mistakes they make when they start believing they’re untouchable. It would be stupid not to use that.”

I hated that he was right. Hated it enough that I looked away before he could see it too clearly. The office felt too small suddenly, crowded with old wood, stale smoke from the lamp, Gabriel’s scent still lingering faintly beneath the smell of ink and paper. I wanted distance. I wanted air. More than anything, I wanted something solid to hit until the pressure in my ribs stopped building.

Leon leaned back in Gabriel’s chair and studied me with a different expression. Not a superior warrior. Not acting Alpha. Brother. Older, too damn perceptive, and impossible to dodge. “So,” he said carefully, “about this girl. You’re protective of her.”

My eyes cut back to him.

He held up a hand, calm as ever. “I’m not accusing you. I’m asking. Is she…”

“No.” The word came out rougher than I meant it to. I dragged a hand over my jaw and forced my voice lower. “She’s not my mate.”

Finding a mate was rare enough that most wolves lived and died without ever feeling that kind of bond. The fact that this pack had more than one mated pair still felt impossible at times. Whatever this was with Mabel, it wasn’t that. There was no sacred pull, no certainty from the Goddess, no bond snapping into place and making the truth simple.

But simple or not, the urge was there.

I wanted to put her somewhere safe. Somewhere locked away from Damian, from Sam’s choices, from every male with enough power to use her and call it necessity. I wanted to keep danger from getting anywhere near her again. The problem was, Mabel would sooner put a knife to my ribs than let me cage her for her own good. The girl had showered in front of me beneath a waterfall and acted like my presence meant less than the spray hitting her skin. She did not submit. She did not soften because a man raised his voice. And she sure as hell was not going to trust the pack’s well-known playboy just because he suddenly decided he wanted to be honorable.

Leon nodded once. “But you have feelings for her.”

I huffed out a humorless breath and dropped my gaze to the floorboards. There were scuffs near Gabriel’s desk from years of boots, restless pacing, and decisions made under pressure. I understood the marks better now. “She’s different,” I said. It sounded weak, so I forced myself to continue. “She never does what I expect. She’s sharp when she should be scared. Quiet when she should be greedy. Stubborn even when she’s exhausted. Every time I think I understand her, she does something that makes me feel like I’m two steps behind.”

Like a drug with a new high every time.

I bit that thought back before it could leave my mouth. It was too hungry. Too careless. Too close to the kind of man I was trying not to be anymore.

Leon’s stare hardened. “Are these feelings going to distract you from your position as a warrior?”

I looked up slowly. “What are you really asking?”

“I’m asking whether I need to worry about your judgment when it comes to her.” He folded his arms over his chest. “Do I need to worry about what you’ll do to other pack members if you think she’s been wronged? Do I need to worry that you’ll mistake possession for protection?”

My jaw clenched. The words hit because they were too close to the truth. “Aren’t you protective of Joan?”

“Joan can protect herself,” Leon said without hesitation. “I know that. I trust that. I don’t interfere unless she asks or unless the danger is something she can’t see coming.” His voice lowered. “And above all, Joan is my mate and my wife. Mabel is a girl you met a few days ago.”

The quiet that followed was worse than an argument. I could hear the lamp burn. Could hear someone passing beyond the office door. Could hear my own pulse, slow and hard, like a warning drum.

Leon’s eyes narrowed. “Does she even share your attraction?”

I looked away.

He cursed under his breath. “Maddock.”

The disappointment in his voice scraped harder than anger would have. I braced my forearms against the back of a chair and bowed my head, forcing myself to take one steady breath. Then another. There was no use pretending. Leon had seen me chase women, charm them, dismiss them, and walk away without losing sleep. He had never seen me like this because I had never been like this.

“I don’t know,” I admitted.

“That’s the problem.” Leon stood, the chair groaning behind him. “I’ve never seen you this way. You’ve always been indifferent about women. If you wanted them, you wooed them. If you didn’t, you sent them packing. Now you’re threatening pack members over a girl who might not even want you standing near her.” His gaze sharpened. “What does Riven think about her?”

My body went still.

The name landed like a hand closing around my throat. Riven had been quiet for so long that some days I forgot what it felt like to share myself with him. Most of the time, it felt like I was alone in my own skin. No voice. No pushback. No steady presence waiting beneath my thoughts. Just silence, deep and endless, where my wolf should have been.

That was not something I wanted to give Leon. Not yet. Maybe not ever.

“He hasn’t shared an opinion on her yet,” I said.

Not the whole truth. Not a lie either.

Leon watched me for a long moment, and I knew he heard the distance in my answer even if he could not name it. “Then maybe you should wait until he does. Riven’s opinion will matter before you try to pursue Mabel. Maybe more than yours.”

The words settled between us, heavy and unwanted.

I said nothing. There was nothing safe to say. I only looked back at the map, at the dark stretch of forest between our pack and Damian’s camp, and forced the anger back where it belonged—behind my ribs, beneath my skin, under control.