Chapter 7: Rogues

The shed where I and eleven she-wolves were placed. Inside was small and bedless. We lay on the boarded floor side by side.

They gave us supper, a piece of bread, and a cup of water, before sending us into the shed.

The cool night wind came in from the glassless window. Cold, I curled into a ball. Very slender for a she-wolf, I was susceptible to getting cold easily.

"Aren't you going to eat that?" A she-wolf near me asked, spotting my uneaten bread next to my untouched water.

I shook my head, and she quickly stretched across me to take it.

I turned my head to watch her, sitting up, and devouring it hungrily.

"I'm Rhena, by the way," with her mouth stuffed with bread, she introduced herself.

"What's your name?" she then asked.

"Nobody," I say, reverting my back toward her.

Seeing I was not in any mood to talk, she said nothing else. It was better that way.

For years, I've treated everyone who tries to talk to me coldly. The more unfriendly I am, the safer they are from my curse.

The sound of banging outside the shed in the morning prompted us to jump up and run towards the door.

They served us the same meal as yesterday, but this time without any water. I received my share of bread, which had specks of blood on it.

The fighter caught me noticing it.

"It's jam," he lied, moving on to the next rogue.

I know it wasn't based on its sharp metallic stench. It was fresh blood, likely from an early kill or a seriously injured wolf. The blood inadvertently caught my finger, and I swiftly wiped it off on the opposite side before discarding it.

"If you don't eat, you're going to become weak," the she-wolf I'd shared bread with last night saw me.

"I heard the alpha discard the weak ones by killing them," she later warned.

That was what I wanted. But a long-suffering death that seems unending. I don't deserve the swift way he had killed the rogues, ripping off their limbs and biting into their necks; the wicked don't deserve a fast death but a slow, painful one.

That's why I decided not to remove the necklace, for if he knew we were mates, I wouldn't die the way I wanted to.

The memory of my parents praying to the moon goddess to bring death quickly upon them, to stop the pain I'd caused them, brought tears to my eyes.

None of my victims had died by my curse quickly; that's why I have to die way worse than them; that's how much I owe them for the torturous death I'd given them.

I turned left towards the chateau, a massive stone castle-like structure that towered above every building a short distance away. I blinked away my tears, aware it was the home of the one I'd wanted to make me no more, my mate: the one the moon goddess cursed me with because of my wickedness.

"Get in line, bag of fleas," all rogues were commanded.

Few were shoved with batons to quickly assemble.

As we gathered outside, the fighters before us stood at attention while a man in a darker green uniform walked towards us. He seemed to be of a higher rank than the other fighters.

"I thought we had more mutts," the higher-rank fighter said as he stopped in front of us, examining everyone.

"Commander the Alpha killed a majority of them who had refused to join," one of the soldiers quickly responded.

"Hmm," he said, looking at us disapprovingly.

"I guess we'll have to make do for now with what we have," he said as if we were nothing.

His face became grim.

"When I point at you, separate and go in the direction my hand is pointed, forming another line," he instructed us.

He soon started picking out individuals, one by one, until only she-wolves remained. He ceased, leaving a few she-wolves, including me.

"You may go with the ones I'd chosen to start working in the mine and refinery," he informed two of his men.

"Move it," the men ordered the selected rogues to leave.

A man fell, and he was kicked in the face to get up. He held his bleeding lip as he moved faster to catch up with the group.

"What will we do with these remaining she-wolves?" A fighter drew near the commander.

The commander inspected us gravely.

"They're the new she-wolves in waiting," he responded, referring to maids.

"Try not to kill them this time," he said, walking away quickly.

I watched the she-wolves eyes next to me widen at his remark.

Few fighters came to us as he went away. The she-wolves cried out as they were forced to go along.

"Come, I have a bed that needs to be spread," one grabbed me by the hand.

His hungry eyes checked out my body as his grip tightened around my wrist.

I stiffened my body as he pulled me, refusing to go, but a flashback of my first and only best friend, who was kind enough to share her home with me, unknowing she was inviting death into her home. I followed the fighter without any resistance, conscious of what he was planning to do to me.

Rape was what my curse brought upon my best friend. She bleeds between her legs until she is no more.

The memory of her warm, welcoming smile as she accepted me into her home just a few days later transformed into a lifeless and unsmiling face as she lay in her own pool of blood; I'm reminded. The memory hurt me more than what the fighter was about to do to me as he shoved me backward onto the bed and threw himself wildly on top of me, kissing my neck.

His kiss moistened my neck, and the sensation of his lips tingled my skin. I fought back tears; I didn't want to cry. I deserved this, but my best friend didn't.

"You like this, don't you?" The soldier stopped kissing my neck now staring into my eyes.

My eyes never met his as he looked down at me. Shortly his lips returned to my neck, and I closed my eyes.

"You're the only she-wolf who has never tried to fight back," he said as he lifted my dress, and instantly my body stiffened.

"I'll do so for her!" I heard a deep male voice, and the fighter's body was thrown off me.

I opened my eyes and sat up to see the Beta repeatedly punching the fighter in the face on the floor. Blood gradually covered his fist with each hit.

I fled at the sight of the blood, as it haunted me, reminding me of the people my curse killed, lying in their blood.

The Beta caught up with me as I was heading back to the shed, stopping me by the hand. I turned to see the blood of the wounded fighter catching my hand.

As I gazed at it, my hands trembled.

Unraveling that I was afraid at the sight of blood, he ripped a section of his white t-shirt, wiping it away.

"Your hand is free from blood; I've gotten rid of it," he tried to calm me down.

I sobbed at his remark and I kept hearing his voice repeating in my mind, Your hand is free from blood; your hand is free from blood until my head felt like it was about to explode with anger. Though there was no blood on my hands, they would never be free of the blood of those I've killed.

My punishment for the curse is to stay here. I wanted to experience every death I'd put my loved ones through, and he'd ruin the first one. I grew angrier as I recalled my best friend trembling in pain from molestation.

"Why did you have to rescue me?" I cried out.

His eyes, as blue as the summer sky, stare at me strangely, as if I'm insane.

"You wanted him to rape you?" bewildered he asked.

I said nothing, lowering my head.

"Do you have a child or a family member here you're willing to let him assault you for their safety?" the beta asked.

Immediately, I raised my head to him, and a stream of tears coursed down my cheek again, recollecting my best friend. I was terrified of almost being raped by the fighter; I wanted it to stop, though I believed I deserved it. If I could not bear the punishment I wanted; just imagine what my best friend had gone through because of my horrible curse. And he had to ruin it; I now loathed him for what he did.

"I can help you rescue them," he said, pulling me away from the painful thoughts.

"No one is forcing me to do anything," I said.

"And I have no family here," I ended.

At the very last remark, a deep pain pierced my heart, knowing that I was the cause of it. I made myself an orphan, friendless and alone.

His eyes study mine, detecting if I'm telling the truth.

"I'll ensure you and all the rogues here will never face such ghastly action here again," he assured.

"The she-wolves here might need your help, but I don't need yours." I stepped away, holding my head straight.

I spotted a she-wolf carrying a bucket of water and a map, I rushed over to assist her. As I do I can still feel the lips of the soldier on my neck, his hands over my skin and weight as his body as if he's still on top of me.

I blinked away my tears.

"Can I help you?" I asked the she-wolf.

She nodded, and I carried the bucket. While I was walking with her, I glimpsed the beta watching me.