My whole body felt like it had been rearranged by a particularly enthusiastic toddler. Every muscle screamed in protest,and the metallic tang of blood filled my nose like a bad roommate. Gross.Brock materialized out of nowhere, looking like he'd been dragged through a hedge backwards. Typical. Super soldiers never get a scratch, do they?"Hey," he rasped, his voice rougher than sandpaper. "You okay?"I managed a weak smile. "Yeah, just peachy. You know, the usual – a few bumps, bruises, the lingering fear of rogue-induced death…"He snorted, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. He scanned me up and down, probably looking for any hidden injuries that might spontaneously combust later. Finally, he seemed to accept my lie."Good," he said, his voice still gruff. "We gotta go patch everyone up. Feels like Portland's single-handedly running a MASH unit over at the pack house."We joined the procession of walking wounded towards the pack house. The once-cheerful clearing now resembled a war
The morning sun peeked through the trees, casting dappled light on the training grounds. My body still ached from the previous day's battle, but the lingering unease about Sage gnawed at me far worse than any bruise. I clenched my fists, determination hardening my resolve. I wouldn't let her scare me.As I approached the clearing, I saw Brock and Sage already locked in a training session. Sage, clad in a sleek black training outfit that hugged her curves a little too revealingly for my taste, moved with a grace that belied her ferocious fighting style. Brock, ever the patient instructor, was guiding her through a series of sword techniques."There you go," Brock chuckled as Sage parried a blow. "See? You're getting the hang of it."Sage flashed him a dazzling smile, one that sent a shiver down my spine for reasons completely unrelated to the cool morning air. "Thanks to your amazing teaching skills, of course," she said, her voice dripping with a sweetness that made me want to gag.My
The tension between Sage and me hung heavy in the air like a storm cloud refusing to unleash its rain. But our bickering was cut short by a booming voice that echoed through the pack house."Amelia, Brock!" Logan bellowed, his voice deep and gravelly. "Get your furry butts down here, now!"We exchanged a wary glance before heading towards the alpha's office, a knot of unease tightening in my stomach. We found Logan hunched over a map, his brow furrowed in concentration."We have a problem," he said, his voice grim. "Our scouts picked up faint rogue activity near the southern border."My heart hammered against my ribs. Rogue attacks were never good news, but coming so soon after the previous battle left a bitter taste in my mouth."How many?" Brock asked, his voice steady despite the tension in the air.Logan shook his head. "Can't be sure. It's a small pack, but they're moving fast.""We should check it out," I said, my voice surprisingly calm.Logan nodded curtly. "That's the plan. B
We piled into the alpha's office, the tension thicker than a werewolf in yoga pants. Logan, his face grim, studied the map sprawled on his desk."So, deer massacre, heading south," he growled, tracing a path with a gnarled finger. "Anything else?""Just the usual unsettling Sage vibe," I muttered, earning a pointed look from the woman in question.Sage, ever the picture of feigned innocence, shrugged. "Just saying, there wasn't much to observe besides dead deer and some pretty messed up paw prints."Brock, ever the diplomat, cleared his throat. "They were definitely rogues. But the size of the pack is hard to determine."Logan slammed his fist on the table, making me jump. "Doesn't matter the size. Rogue attacks are on the rise, and it's not a coincidence. Someone's stirring the pot.""Any idea who?" I asked, the question echoing my own suspicions.Logan shook his head, a worried crease forming between his brows. "Not yet. But we'll find out. In the meantime, we need to be prepared. D
The crisp night air sent shivers down my spine as we patrolled the eastern border, Brock at my side and Sage a silent shadow a few paces behind. The forest stretched out before us, a dark and tangled maze under the sliver of a moon."Anything?" Brock murmured, his voice barely audible over the rustle of leaves underfoot.I shook my head, my senses on high alert. The silence around us was unsettling, broken only by the occasional hoot of an owl or the snap of a twig under an unseen creature's paw."This feels wrong," Sage finally spoke, her voice low and laced with unease. "It's too quiet."I glanced at her, surprised by the echo of my own thoughts. "Maybe," I conceded. "But quiet doesn't always mean danger.""No," she countered, her voice sharp. "But it can also mean they're close, waiting for the right moment."I didn't like the edge in her voice, the way it sent a tremor of fear down my spine. Was she just trying to spook me, or did she genuinely sense something amiss?The tension b
We tore through the undergrowth, the symphony of snapping twigs and pounding paws a frantic counterpoint to the guttural symphony of the approaching rogue pack. Sweat stung my eyes, blurring the already indistinct shapes of the trees into a chaotic mess of greens and browns."There!" Brock shouted, pointing towards a clearing bathed in an eerie moonlight. It was a landmark I recognized – an old, gnarled oak that marked the unofficial halfway point between the pack house and the eastern border."Perfect," I gasped, my lungs burning. "We can use this for cover."We scrambled towards the oak, its gnarled roots offering a meager shield against the impending onslaught. Behind us, the enraged growls of the rogue pack grew louder, closer."How many do you think there are?" Brock asked, his voice strained but steady.I peeked through the meager gap between the roots. The sight that greeted me sent a jolt of terror through me. "More than I care to count," I whispered, my voice barely audible
We limped back towards the pack house like we'd just wrestled a grizzly bear with a bad case of road rage. Dawn was cracking over the horizon, painting the sky in bruised oranges and purples. Brock sported a fresh souvenir – a nasty gash on his arm that was turning his fur a concerning shade of crimson."That was…" Brock wheezed, leaning on me for support like a furry leaning tower of Pisa. "An experience, to say the least."I snorted, a puff of air escaping my nose. "Yeah, 'experience' doesn't even cover it. How about 'night of the glowstick wolves'?"Brock managed a weak chuckle, then winced as the movement sent a fresh jolt of pain shooting through his arm. "Imagine trying to explain that to the council. 'So yeah, these wolves with built-in rave lights saved our furry butts!'"The thought sent a fresh wave of laughter bubbling up in my chest. Explaining the whole Glacierclaw situation to Logan was going to be a real doozy. But hey, at least the pack was safe. That was all that matt
The morning sun, bless its chipper self, peeked through the trees, across the training grounds. Birds chirped around us cheerfully, a soundtrack to what I knew would be another glorious morning of getting my butt whooped by Brock. "Ready for round two, pipsqueak?" Brock smirked, stretching with the grace of a panther waking from a nap. Ugh, why did he have to be so annoyingly good-looking even before a coffee? "Knock it off, Brock," I grumbled, rolling my eyes. "Just because you used to wrestle grizzly bears for breakfast doesn't mean you have to be a jerk about it."He chuckled, a low, rumbling sound that sent a shiver down my spine in spite of myself. Traitorous spine. "Hey, just keeping you on your toes," Brock winked. "A good warrior needs to be prepared for anything, even a surprise attack by a particularly grumpy chipmunk."I swatted at him playfully, though secretly hoping to connect. He dodged with ease, his reflexes still lightning-fast despite the war wound courtesy of th
I woke up with a start, my head throbbing and my vision blurry. The pain in my skull was sharp, but the overwhelming sense of dread was sharper. I struggled to sit up, my hands and feet bound tightly, and tried to make sense of my surroundings. Dim light filtered through cracked windows, casting shadows on the walls of what looked like an old, abandoned warehouse.Just then, I heard a familiar voice in my head. Brock.“Amelia, where are you?”Relief and panic mingled in my chest. I focused on our bond, trying to project my thoughts clearly. “I don’t know the exact location. It’s a warehouse. It’s old and looks abandoned.”There was a brief pause before Brock’s voice came through again, calm but laced with urgency. “There are hundreds of warehouses around here, Amelia. But I can track your scent. Hold on. Logan and I are coming to get you.”The telepathic link went quiet, and I was left with my racing thoughts and the oppressive silence of the warehouse. The faint sounds of the city ou
As the minutes ticked by, the pain in my head began to subside, replaced by a growing sense of stubbornness . I wasn’t going to let Vincent intimidate me. Reagan’s life depended on me staying strong and thinking clearly. I could hear the faint hum of the city outside, a reminder that we weren’t completely isolated, even though it felt that way.Vincent reappeared, striding into the room with an air of confidence that made my skin crawl. He looked down at me with a cold smile. “Ready to talk, Amelia?”I met his gaze with as much defiance as I could muster. “I told you, I’m not giving you any information.”He chuckled, shaking his head. “You’re brave, I’ll give you that. But let’s not play games. Who did you come with?”I swallowed hard, hoping he couldn’t see through my lie. “I came alone, just like you told me to.”Vincent’s smile widened, but there was no warmth in it. “Is that so? Alone, all the way from your little village?”I nodded, trying to keep my expression neutral. “Yes.”He
We decided to leave for New York that night. The urgency of Reagan’s situation weighed heavily on me, and the fear of what could happen if we didn’t act fast was like a constant, gnawing presence in the back of my mind. Logan, Brock, and I piled into a black SUV, the kind that would blend in anywhere without drawing too much attention.Logan glanced at me from the driver’s seat. “You sure you’re up for this, Amelia? Going in alone is dangerous.”I nodded, trying to muster as much confidence as I could. “I don’t have a choice. If they see you two, they might kill Reagan on the spot.”Brock, sitting next to me, reached over and squeezed my hand. “We’ll be close by, ready to jump in if anything goes wrong. Just get Reagan out safely. That’s the priority.”“I know,” I said, giving him a small, grateful smile. “Thanks, both of you.”The drive to New York was tense and quiet. We went over the plan a few more times, making sure we were ready for anything. Logan and Brock would stay nearby, h
The sky was darkening, and the air was thick with tension. We could sense them before we saw them, the rogues moving in like a dark wave, ready to crash against our defenses. Brock stood beside me, his grip on my hand a reassuring constant. “They’re coming,” Logan’s voice was low but steady as he addressed the pack. “Everyone, to your positions.” We scattered, each of us moving to where we’d been assigned. Brock and I took up a position near the main gate, where we knew the fighting would be fiercest. My heart pounded in my chest, but I felt a strange calm wash over me. This was it. We were ready. The first rogue hit the gate with a deafening crash. The force of it reverberated through the ground, but our defenses held—at least for the moment. More followed, their growls and snarls filling the air. “Hold the line!” Brock shouted, his voice cutting through the chaos. We fought with everything we had. The night was a blur of fur, claws, and blood. Despite our preparations, the rogu
The news hit us like a ton of bricks. Vincent's attack was imminent. The war room was a hive of activity. Maps were spread out, strategies were being debated, and faces were etched with worry."We have to be ready for anything," Logan said, his voice low and determined. "They could come from anywhere."Brock nodded, his eyes scanning the map. "We need to strengthen our defenses everywhere, not just the south."I felt a lump in my throat. This was it. The moment we'd been dreading. "We can't let them win," I said, my voice barely a whisper.Logan looked at me, his eyes filled with concern. "We won't, Amelia. We won't."Days turned into nights as we prepared for the inevitable. We trained, we planned, and we waited. The tension was palpable. Even the usually cheerful faces in the village looked grim.Brock insisted on ramping up my training. He argued that I needed to be able to defend myself, not just rely on others. I groaned and complained, but deep down, I knew he was right.Our t
My head was pounding. Everything felt like a nightmare. Vincent, that crazy guy, wanted me. Bad. Brock and Logan were trying to figure out what to do, their faces all serious. It was like we were in a movie, except without the popcorn. Logan was the first to speak. "We need a plan," he said, his voice low and serious. "Vincent won't stop until he gets what he wants." Brock, my knight in shining armor, jumped in. "Amelia needs to be safe. I'm her bodyguard, 24/7." My heart melted a little. He looked at me with those intense eyes of his, and I felt safe for a second.Logan nodded. “Agreed. We double the patrols. No one gets in or out without being checked. I’ll station more werewolf soldiers at the borders. We need eyes everywhere.”Brock’s gaze never left mine. “I’ll be her personal guard. Wherever she goes, I go.”I couldn’t help the swell of affection I felt for him. “Thank you, Brock. I feel safer already.”Logan’s expression softened slightly. “It’s settled then. Brock, you’ll be
The morning after was like waking up in a bad dream. My body ached like a kicked puppy, and my head felt like it was stuffed with cotton. I tried to ignore the growing bruise on my shoulder, but it kept reminding me of the rogue rumble.Brock was nowhere to be found, probably nursing his own battle wounds. But I wasn't exactly feeling up for a pity party. Instead, I focused on the rogues we'd captured. We'd tied them up good, but they were still a bunch of grumpy, smelly wolves."Hey, furballs," I greeted them, my voice dripping with sarcasm. "How's the view from the ground?"They just glared at me, their eyes full of rage. Great, a captive audience with a serious attitude problem.Logan strolled in, looking like he'd just stepped out of a photoshoot. "Morning, champ," he said, a grin spreading across his face. "You look like you could use a nap."I rolled my eyes. "Thanks for the pep talk, Cap. Any idea what to do with these grumpy guests?"He shrugged. "No clue. Maybe we should ask
Creeping through the bushes felt like I was starring in a bad spy movie. Guilt gnawed at me worse than a hangry wolf. Here I was, playing secret agent on my own packmate, all because I chickened out on telling Logan about his little romance with Sage.Peeking through the leaves, I watched Sage lead Brock deeper into the woods. Talk about awkward. This wasn't exactly how I pictured breaking the news.Suddenly, Sage leaned in and planted a kiss on Brock. My jaw practically hit the forest floor. Before I could even process that, my traitorous fingers fumbled for my phone, snapping a pic faster than a squirrel on Red Bull. Hey, evidence is key, right?A tangled mess of emotions wrestled inside me – anger, hurt, and a weird flicker of… relief? Like, major relief that Brock wasn't a lying cheater. But the image of him smooching Sage, the raw emotion on her face, left a sour taste in my mouth.They pulled away, foreheads touching, whispering like teenagers on a first date. I strained to hear
Tossing and turning like a rotisserie chicken, sleep wouldn't touch me with a ten-foot pole. Every time I squeezed my eyelids shut, Sage's smug smirk and the whole rogue alpha thing popped back up like unwanted houseguests. Ugh.Finally, after what felt like a year of staring at the ceiling, I threw the covers off.Operation: Catch Sage Red-Handed was a go. Grabbing my baggiest clothes and a baseball cap that looked like it belonged to my grandpa, I snuck outta my room like a ninja on a sugar rush.Sage's cabin, on the outskirts of our territory, was my first stop. The journey there was like a horror movie – every rustle of leaves and owl hoot had me jumping like a scaredy-cat. When I finally reached the place, it was dark and silent, not a single light on. Double ugh.Maybe she wasn't even there? Peeking through the window, I saw furniture gathering dust and a bed that looked like it hadn't been slept in for weeks. Super disappointing. Was this whole mission a bust?Then, a faint eart