Their traded family

12. Rogues

Hope's P.O.V

Two months later we were no further into finding the male who helped create me and any potential other victims. My temper, although bad before, was crazy now, and no matter how hard I tried, unless I went on multiple runs a day, I couldn't control it.

The injustice of it all was making me so mad. The fact that there were females and males forced to endure abuse at the hands of high-ranked wolves, their leaders, without being able to do anything to help themselves was a thought I couldn't erase from my head. And every second that ticked by in which my uncle and I were no closer to finding my supposed father and his helpers, meant another second he could use to make others as miserable as he did my birth mother.

The tech guy my uncle had hired to help us, David, a thirty-something year old werewolf sworn to secrecy by my uncle, his Alpha, shook his head with a frown.

Uncle Zane paced around the room, running his hand through his hair in the same frustration we'd been sharing for the past months. Who my birth father was was only a personal matter until we found out he could go in and out of uncle's computer as he pleased, and the system protecting Alphas and their private files were protected by the Elders themselves.

"Uncle," he turned to look at me, his lips thinning into a frown as he heard my unspoken words. He didn't need to hear them in order to know what I thought, after all, we'd argued over the topic more times than either of us cared to count.

"No!"

"It's them! It has to be!" He was quickly in front of me, neither of us forgetting that David, although sworn before the Goddess to secrecy, was still in the room.

"Talk like that can get you murdered!" Uncle hissed, shutting me up before I could utter another word on the topic. "I won't hear it. If you're right, then we're letting this go. There's more at stake here than a good cause."

I turned to David, stealing a quick glance at the lost expression on his face. He was the best of the best and had never struggled with a job as easy as what we'd tasked him with was supposed to be. Alas, it was clear that after two months of day and night work, he'd do nothing more but get himself a divorce with his wife.

"Go home, David," I mumbled, glaring at my uncle as he sent a warning growl my way. I was going to deal with him as soon as the male was out of earshot. His comment had me seething, worse than usual. "There's clearly nothing more you can do, don't waste your time."

"Alpha?" David questioned, uncle giving him a nod of confirmation before the guy was out, as angry as the rest of us.

My sperm donor sure was making a long list of enemies.

"A good cause?" I jumped to my feet, and although my uncle was a bit taller than I was, I didn't mind glaring at him as harshly as I could. "Is that what Alana is to you? Is that what her dying to give birth to me is to you? A good cause? You grew up with her," I spat, "she wasn't much older when she had me than when you two were playing together and now you reduce her to nothing more than a good cause?"

"Hope-" he tried, this time my turn to shut him up.

"I never asked for your help, and I do not need it. I need the information you can provide and nothing more."

I stepped around him, inching for the door, to get the hell out of the suffocating office and breathe some air that didn't feel stifling with disappointment.

"I am not losing my family for a dead female!" My uncle growled, stopping me in my tracks.

"She's not just a dead female!" I yelled in frustration.

Because if she wasn't dead, she would've been mine. My family. My past. My future.

I loved my parents with my entire heart, but lately, as I found myself drifting further and further apart from them with no calls or texts passing between us, with my days spent trying to find the tiniest bit of information on the female, I couldn't help the small taste of bitterness in my mouth over something I never had, never could have.

I didn't know you could grieve something you'd never lost, but apparently one's heart doesn't get the memo. Mine hasn't, as of lately.

"I know you're upset," uncle's voice softened before hardening again, "but she's gone, and you can't bring her back. Your parents, your cousins, your aunts and uncles, me and my mate, we're not! You have us and if you continue to dig around places and individuals you have no place digging in, you'll lose us, too. It's an awful decision, redhead, choosing between your loved ones, but as far as awful choices go, choosing between your dead family and your living one should be fairly easy."

"Is that why you chose aunt Sofia? Was that an easy choice as well?" My uncle balled his fists at his side, turning away from me.

I was still angry, very much so, but through the thick fog of anger, guilt was able to sneak through. I hadn't meant to say those things to him, not really. I just wanted him to understand how hard it all was for me. How hard it was having to chose between which mother's side I was supposed to be on when the only mom I'd known, the one who'd taken care of me while sick and read me bedtime stories until I was too old to enjoy them, hadn't talked to me in months because I was digging around for the one who birthed me.

"Leave, Hope," he demanded through gritted teeth, and because my temper was as high as his was, I did without another word, storming outside as the cool November air stroked my skin.

It all always came down to stupid power and rank, and I hated every part of it. The file of Hank Wilson, the male who bought my birth mother like was she was no more than a rag doll, was most likely erased by a member of the council, and whether my birth father was one of the elders or not, he had power there, allies, and they had all the power in the world. In our world.

I could feel tears burn behind my lids as I simply stood outside the pack house, leaning against the wall. I could barely breathe past the anger and helplessness of not knowing and not being able to know, because as awful as my uncle and I's argument was, he was right. He couldn't risk our entire family for my search, and those other victims, if there are any, would never get the help they needed. Not when no Alpha, and especially no Gamma, could stand against the Elders, tell them of their wrongs, and expected to come out of it alive.

This was all a dead end. Everything had been for nothing. All the hurt, all the disappointment, the rage, the sacrifices, the anger, and the fights had been for nothing, and now, I had no one left on my side. Nothing left to fight for. Nothing but that feeling in my gut that searched for more.

As much as I hated it, I knew I couldn't do anything else, couldn't find anything else. I knew I'd have to let Alana down and live with the fact that my life's puzzle would always have missing pieces.

The familiar sound of my breaking bones cracked the air before I could realise I was shifting, the action thankfully as easy as breathing now. I hated this, I thought as I began to run straight for the forest, for the deepest parts of it where no one could find me until I wanted to be found; I hated all of this, and because I wanted to be everywhere but in my head with all the guilt swarming about, I surendered complete control to Hadley, letting her run, hunt, howl, so long as I could turn everything off.

***

I was exhausted and sweaty by the time Hadley gave me back control, my body on autopilot as I left the forest and regained touch with reality, only to find the pack in complete chaos.

Wolves were running around frantically, some keeping watch while others ushered females and pups toward the pack house.

Toward the safe room.

Shit.

With adrenaline and newfound energy burning through my veins, I ran for the pack house, hearing my phone ring before I was even close.

Dang it.

Quickly shifting into human form, I covered myself with the torn pieces of my clothes as I went to grab my phone and reassure whoever was calling that I was safe, when a large red-brown wolf ran up to me, howling loudly in some sort of signal.

Uncle Julian shifted back into human form, his hands on his knees as he regained his breathing, a warrior throwing both of us some clothing we quickly shoved onto our bodies.

"Where have you been? We've been looking everywhere for you!" He asked, worry so thick in his voice it made me wonder how bad the situation really was.

"What's going on?" I asked instead of answering, my thoughts running a mile per minute.

"Rogues," he spat, "the warriors on patrol of the east border smelled a weird scent, but couldn't spot anyone until they heard the rustle of leaves on the ground and realized they were being distracted. The rogues are inside the territory and heading closer as we speak, I need to get you to safety, Hope!"

Goddess, I hated the mere sound of rogues. The panic they caused, the losses they caused, all the pain and grief at the murder of pack members. I'd been fortunate enough to never encounter one, but luck was no longer on my side.

I wasn't supposed to be scared. I was raised so much better than to be scared of some rabid mutts, but I knew the damage they could bring, and although it seemed dramatic to think so pessimistically, the thought of dying made me want to sob.

The thought of someone close to me dying was even worse.

I had so many family members I'd fought with lately. My uncle Zane, I'd said such horrible things to him when we spoke last, and there was no time to call and apologise now, no chance to speak with him directly, either. There was no time to call my mom and dad and tell them I loved them one last time.

But the thought of being hidden away while others fought for me was just as unacceptable.

So I shook my head.

"I'm not hiding. I know how to fight, I can help!" Uncle Julian took my hand, trying to drag me away, but I dug my bare heels into the soil. "Uncle, I can help! I'm not hiding while others are putting their lives on the line! I'll be careful, I promise!" He relented, nodding as he took a quick glance around, making sure no rogues had escaped the woods yet, before he rubbed his arm over mine.

"Stay safe and close to others, okay?" His hand cupped my cheek next, a moment of pride flashing through his eyes as mine shone in gratitude.

He believed in me, he told me silently, and just as silently, I let him know it was the first time I'd really been given the choice of whether or not I wanted to be a coward or a fighter like everyone I loved, and I loved him a little more for it.

But our moment was ruined as one of the rogue wolves ran directly for the two of us, uncle Julian pushing me behind him. My heart pounded in my chest, my eyes widening as the scent of the wolf wafted through my nostrils.

Mate.

The wolf, the rogue, my mate, shifted into human form just as uncle Julian shifted into his wolf form, the two growling and snarling at each other.

"Keep your filthy f*****g hands off my mate!" The rogue snarled before his eyes landed on me, darkening as he assessed me from head to toe, a moment passing between us before Julian was pushing him to the ground, trying to bite, claw, to hurt my mate.

"Owen, no!" Someone screamed.

Owen.

My mate's name was Owen. And the voice that called it was one I'd heard before. It was so similar to one I'd been hearing every day since I was a pup...

Uncle Knox and Aunt Dali, followed by uncle Zane and aunt Sofia, ran over, no doubt having been called over by Julian, but my attention wasn't on them, and theirs wasn't on me, either.

Because the other rogue, the female standing a few feet away and glaring at uncle Julian with more hate than I'd ever seen someone possess...

Was Alana.

My aunt's sister and my biological mother, who was not so dead, after all.

A/N

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