The Alpha’s Regret, The Rogue’s Claim

The Dead Lands

The wind had teeth.

It bit through the thin silk of Sienna’s silver dress. It tore at her skin. The temperature dropped with every step she took away from the pack lands.

Sienna shivered. Her teeth chattered so hard her jaw ached. But the cold outside was nothing compared to the freezing void inside her chest.

The rejection bond felt like an open wound. Every time her heart beat, it pumped pain instead of blood. It was a physical hollowness. It felt as if Julian had reached inside her ribcage and pulled out her vital organs.

She stumbled over a root. She fell hard into the frozen mud.

"Get up," she whispered to herself.

Her voice sounded small. It was swallowed by the dark trees.

She pushed herself up. Her hands were numb. Her feet were bleeding inside her cheap shoes. She left a trail of red smears on the white frost.

She did not know where she was going. She only knew she had to keep moving. If she stopped, the cold would take her.

But maybe that was the point.

Julian had banished her. In the werewolf world, banishment for a faint-blood was a death sentence. She could not hunt. She could not shift for warmth. She was just a girl in a ruined dress walking into a wolf’s den.

A branch snapped.

The sound was sharp. It echoed like a gunshot in the silence.

Sienna froze.

She held her breath. She strained her ears. Even without a wolf, her survival instincts kicked in. She had spent her whole life hiding from bullies. She knew the sound of a predator.

Another snap. Closer.

It was to her left.

Sienna turned slowly. The trees were thick shadows. The moonlight barely touched the ground here.

Then she saw them.

Two yellow eyes.

They hovered in the darkness about six feet off the ground. They were unblinking. They were glowing with a hungry light.

A low growl vibrated through the air. It was deep. It rattled the bones in Sienna’s chest.

"Please," she whispered. She did not know who she was begging.

A massive shape stepped out from behind a pine tree.

It was a wolf. But it was not like the sleek, groomed wolves of the Obsidian Ridge. This beast was a nightmare.

It was huge. It was easily the size of a horse. Its fur was matted and black as pitch. Scars crossed its muzzle in jagged white lines. It was missing part of one ear.

A rogue.

Rogues were wolves who had gone mad. They had lost their humanity. They were feral killing machines.

The beast lowered its head. It sniffed the air. It smelled the blood on her feet. It smelled the fear on her skin.

Sienna backed up. Her back hit a tree trunk. She was trapped.

The wolf took a step forward. Its lips curled back to reveal yellow, rotting teeth. Saliva dripped from its jaws.

This was it. This was how she died. Not frozen in the snow, but torn apart by a monster.

Sienna closed her eyes. She thought of Julian. She thought of the way he had looked at her for that one second before the fear took over.

I reject you.

"Do it," Sienna said softly. She opened her eyes. She looked straight at the beast. "Just do it."

The wolf lunged.

Sienna flinched. She waited for the teeth.

But they never came.

A blur of motion slammed into the rogue from the side.

It hit with the force of a freight train. There was a sickening c***k of bone. A yelp of pain cut through the air.

Sienna gasped. She pressed herself against the bark.

Two wolves were rolling on the ground in a vicious tangle of fur and claws.

The new wolf was even bigger. Its fur was a dark, gunmetal gray. It moved with a terrifying speed. It did not just fight. It dominated.

It pinned the rogue to the ground. It snapped its jaws around the rogue’s throat. There was a wet tear. The rogue went limp.

Silence fell over the forest again.

Sienna trembled. She slid down the tree trunk until she hit the ground.

The gray wolf stood over the dead body. It was panting. Steam rose from its coat in the freezing air. Blood—not its own—dripped from its muzzle.

Then, it turned its head.

It looked at her.

Its eyes were not yellow. They were blue. Ice blue. Cold and intelligent.

Sienna stopped breathing.

The wolf walked toward her. It did not growl. It did not stalk. It prowled with an arrogant confidence.

It stopped three feet away. The heat radiating from its massive body thawed the air around her.

Then, the sound of cracking bones filled the clearing.

The wolf began to shift.

Fur retracted into skin. The muzzle shortened. The massive paws became hands.

In seconds, a man stood before her.

He was naked. He did not seem to care about the cold. He was tall, lean, and covered in scars. Muscles corded his arms and chest. dark hair fell over his forehead.

He wiped the blood from his mouth with the back of his hand.

He looked down at Sienna. His face was hard. His jaw was sharp enough to cut glass. He looked vaguely familiar, but his eyes were harder, crueler.

He leaned in close. He sniffed her neck.

Sienna whimpered.

He pulled back. His lip curled in a sneer.

"Well," the man said. His voice was rough, like gravel grinding together. "You smell like fresh rain."

He paused. His eyes narrowed.

"And you reek of my brother."

Sienna’s eyes went wide.

Brother?

The man grabbed her chin. His grip was bruising.

"So," he whispered. "You are the one Julian threw away."

He smiled. It was not a nice smile. It was the smile of a wolf who had just found a new toy.

"You are coming with me, little ghost."

Sienna tried to protest, but the darkness crept into the edges of her vision. The cold, the shock, and the terror finally won.

She slumped forward.

The last thing she felt was strong arms catching her before she hit the snow.