More Rogue problems
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. But…” he hesitated, glancing at the doorway.
Before he could finish, Sage sauntered into the room, her silver fur gleaming in the afternoon sun. “What’s going on?” she asked, her voice laced with feigned curiosity.
Logan sighed. “Rogues near the southern border. We’re sending a scouting party.”
Sage’s eyes flickered to me for a fleeting moment, a spark of something unreadable igniting in their depths. Then, she turned back to Logan, a determined glint in her eyes.
“I want to come,” she declared, her voice firm.
Logan’s jaw clenched. “This isn’t a training exercise, Sage. It’s dangerous.”
“I can handle myself,” she insisted, her voice laced with a barely concealed challenge.
Brock, who had been silent until now, finally spoke up. “No, Sage. This is a two-person mission. We don’t need ”
“Actually,” Logan interrupted, his voice heavy with authority, “we do. Amelia’s good, but having an extra pair of eyes, especially with rogue activity, wouldn’t hurt.”
Brock’s jaw clenched even tighter, but he didn’t argue further. A silent battle of wills seemed to play out between him and the alpha, and for some reason, Logan won.
A thrill of excitement, laced with a healthy dose of apprehension, shot through me. Spending extra time with Brock, even on a dangerous mission, was a welcome change from the constant tension that had been simmering between us lately.
As we prepared to leave, Brock threw a dark cloak over my shoulders, his touch sending a spark through me. He leaned in close, his voice barely a whisper.
“Stay close,” he murmured, his warm breath tickling my ear. My heart skipped a beat. “And for goodness sake, don’t do anything stupid.”
I forced a smile, the playful banter a delicious secret between us. “No promises,” I whispered back, relishing the way his eyes darkened with a flicker of something possessive. “But I’ll try not to get you killed… too quickly.”
He snorted, a hint of amusement softening his features. Then, with a final glance at Sage, who stood by the doorway, her face an unreadable mask, we slipped out of the pack house and into the darkening woods.
We weaved through the dense forest, the setting sun casting long shadows between the towering trees. The air grew thick with the damp smell of decaying leaves and the earthy scent of the forest floor. Ahead, Brock led the way, his movements silent and sure as he followed the faint scent of rogue markings. Behind me, I could sense Sage keeping pace, her presence a prickling awareness at the back of my neck.
Despite the tension, I couldn’t deny the thrill of adventure that coursed through me. Being alone (well, almost alone) with Brock on a mission felt like a secret stolen moment, a delicious escape from the watchful eyes of the pack.
He glanced back at me, his green eyes glinting in the fading light. “Stay alert,” he mouthed, his voice barely a whisper. I nodded, returning a reassuring smile. Keeping our relationship hidden was a constant burden, but the stolen glances, the secret touches it all felt worth it in these moments.
As we ventured deeper into the woods, the air grew colder, and the silence was broken only by the rustle of leaves beneath our feet and the occasional hoot of an owl. The forest seemed to press in on us, the dense undergrowth a constant reminder of the dangers that could lurk unseen.
Suddenly, Brock stopped, his hand raised in a silent signal. He crouched low, his eyes scanning the undergrowth ahead. I followed suit, my heart hammering in my chest. A faint scent, metallic and acrid, reached my nostrils the unmistakable stench of blood.
Brock crept forward, his movements like a phantom’s. I followed close behind, my senses on high alert. The silence stretched, broken only by the nervous rasp of my own breath.
Then, we emerged into a small clearing. In the center, bathed in the blood-red glow of the setting sun, lay the mangled bodies of several deer. Their ripped flesh and exposed bones spoke of a brutal attack.
Disgust churned in my stomach. Rogue attacks on prey were commonplace, but the sheer ferocity of this kill sent a shiver down my spine.
“They weren’t here long ago,” Brock murmured, his voice low and grim. “Maybe an hour, two at most.”
“How many rogues?” I whispered, my voice barely above a hoarse croak.
Brock shook his head, his gaze sweeping the clearing. “Hard to say. But they were heading south.”All content is property © NôvelDrama.Org.
I glanced at Sage, who had emerged from the shadows behind us. Her face was impassive, but a flicker of something sharp glinted in her icy blue eyes.
“Looks like we have a lead,” she said, her voice devoid of emotion.
My unease deepened. Sage’s presence was unsettling, a constant reminder of the mystery that shrouded her. Was she truly one of us, or was there something more sinister at play?
“We need to report back to Logan,” Brock said, his voice firm. “He’ll decide the next move.”
We retraced our steps through the darkening woods, the chilling image of the slaughtered deer burned into my memory. The silence was heavy, punctuated only by the rustle of leaves and the unspoken questions that hung in the air.
As we walked, I couldn’t help but steal a glance at Brock. His strong jaw was set, his brow furrowed in concentration. Despite the dangers, a flicker of warmth bloomed in my chest. Having him by my side, even on this tense mission, felt like a shield against the unknown.
We reached the pack house just as the first stars began to twinkle in the darkening sky. Relief washed over me, tinged with a bittersweet pang as the stolen moment with Brock came to an end.
As we reported our findings to Logan, I couldn’t shake the feeling that this was just the beginning. The rogues were back, and this time, it felt different. A sense of foreboding hung heavy in the air, a feeling that a storm was brewing on the horizon.