The Rouge Alpha
489 Words
The forest stretched endlessly around her, dark and unforgiving.
January's legs trembled as she forced herself forward, each step heavier than the last. Her body ached from the fall, from the rejection, from the fight she barely escaped.
She had no idea where she was going, only that she had to keep moving.
Somewhere behind her, she knew Victor and his hunters were still searching. She had outrun them, but for how long?
A sharp pain twisted in her ribs, making her stumble. She barely caught herself on a tree trunk, her breath coming in shallow gasps.
"I can’t stop."
But her body was failing her. Every muscle screamed for rest, every wound begged to be mended.
The night air was bitter, seeping through her torn dress. Her wolf silent, wounded offered no warmth, no strength. It was as if the rejection had severed a part of her soul.
Her vision blurred. The trees swayed in her sight, shifting shapes, turning into shadows with glowing eyes.
"No…"
Her foot caught on an exposed root. The world tilted, and she collapsed.
The impact sent pain shooting through her already broken body, but this time, she didn’t have the strength to rise.
She lay there, her cheek pressed to the cold earth, her body shivering violently.
"Is this it?" she thought bitterly. "Am I really going to die out here?"
Somewhere in the distance, a wolf howled.
The sound sent a shiver down her spine, but she couldn’t move.
Her mind drifted, her consciousness slipping.
Then, a presence.
Not a wolf.
Not one of Kieran’s hunters.
A scent brushed against her senses earthy, crisp, unfamiliar.
A rogue.
The footsteps were slow, deliberate, closing in on her.
"You look half-dead, little wolf."
January’s heart stuttered.
The voice was deep, rough, edged with quiet amusement. Not a threat. Not yet.
She forced her heavy eyelids open, blinking against the darkness.
A man stood over her, tall and broad-shouldered, his silhouette backlit by the moon.
Even through her dazed state, she could sense the power radiating from him.
Not just any rogue. An Alpha.
He crouched beside her, silver eyes gleaming in the dim light.
"Tell me," he murmured, tilting his head, "why is a pack wolf bleeding out in my territory?"
January tried to move, to push herself up, but her body refused to obey.
Her breath hitched as he reached for her. Every instinct screamed at her to fight, to run.
But there was no strength left in her limbs.
"Relax," he muttered, as if sensing her tension. "If I wanted you dead, you’d already be buried."
His arms slipped under her, lifting her effortlessly.
A weak growl rumbled in her throat, but she barely had the energy to make a sound.
Her vision darkened at the edges. The last thing she saw before she slipped into unconsciousness was his piercing silver gaze, watching her like a puzzle he intended to solve.
- Writer
