A Wolf Among Rogues
586 Words
The first thing January noticed was the warmth.
A thick, fur-lined blanket covered her, the scent of smoke and pinewood filling her lungs. For a moment, she thought she was back home, back in the packhouse, safe in her bed.
Then, the memories hit.
The rejection. The exile. The hunt.
Her body tensed instantly.
She forced her eyes open. The dim glow of a fire flickered across wooden walls. The air was thick with the scent of wolves, but not ones she recognized.
She wasn’t in the Obsidian Moon Pack’s lands anymore.
A sharp pang shot through her ribs as she tried to sit up. She hissed, clutching her side. Her body was battered, but she was alive.
A deep voice cut through the silence.
"You heal fast for a half-dead omega."
January’s gaze snapped to the corner of the cabin.
The rogue Alpha stood there, arms crossed, watching her.
Even in the dim firelight, he radiated authority. Dark hair, broad shoulders, and piercing silver eyes that reflected the flames.
"Where am I?" January rasped, her throat dry.
"My territory," he said simply.
Her pulse spiked. Rogues didn’t just have “territory.” They moved into shifting camps, never settling in one place too long.
Yet this place… felt different.
"Who are you?" she demanded, forcing herself to sit up despite the pain.
His lips curved slightly, but the amusement never reached his eyes. "Lucian Draven. Alpha of the Forsaken."
January froze.
The Forsaken.
A rogue pack that even Alphas feared. They weren’t just outcasts. They were a force of their own. Ruthless. Lawless. Deadly.
And she was in their hands.
"Why did you bring me here?" she asked cautiously.
Lucian studied her for a moment, then leaned against the wall, his posture relaxed but his presence overwhelming.
"You collapsed on my land. I don’t like corpses rotting in my forest."
January’s fingers curled into the fur blanket. So he didn’t save her out of kindness.
"And now?" she asked.
Lucian tilted his head, his silver eyes gleaming. "That depends. Why was a pack wolf running like she had death on her heels?"
She stiffened. She couldn’t tell him the truth. If he knew she was exiled, weak, abandoned… she had no leverage.
"It’s none of your business," she said coolly.
Lucian’s lips twitched. "Everything that happens in my territory is my business."
Tension crackled between them. She was at a disadvantage, and he knew it.
January forced herself to breathe. She needed to get out of here. She had to figure out what was happening to her and why she had felt that strange surge of power when Victor had attacked.
She swung her legs over the side of the bed, but the moment she tried to stand, her knees buckled.
Lucian was there in an instant.
His hands gripped her arms, steadying her. His touch was warm, firm but not gentle.
"You’re in no condition to leave," he said.
January looked up at him, her heart hammering.
She hated this. Hated being weak. Hated being at someone else’s mercy.
"I don’t trust you," she said bluntly.
Lucian smirked. "Good. You’d be a fool if you did."
He released her, stepping back. But there was something unreadable in his gaze.
"Rest, little wolf," he said as he turned toward the door. "We’ll talk in the morning."
Then he was gone, leaving her alone in the warmth of the cabin, her mind racing.
She didn’t trust him. But for now, she had nowhere else to go.
- Writer
