Chapter 5

The rogue tugged the rope with force, causing me to trip on the bumpy woodland ground. My leg trailed like lifeless weight behind me. Pain shot through with each step, piercing like glass slicing into skin. I didn't shout. I didn't have the courage. The rogue paid no attention to look back, his hold on the rope unyielding as he dragged me along like freight.

"Keep going," he snapped back at them. His voice was deep, throaty, reminiscent of a wolf’s growl.

I gritted my teeth and hobbled quicker. The rest transformed into their wolf forms, sleek and hunting as they sped ahead, disappearing into the tree shadows. I was abandoned, flawed and damaged. The chill nipped at my skin, the wind slicing through my lightweight dress, yet I lowered my head and pressed forward.

The woods resonated with noise. Leaves stirring softly like murmurs. Branches crunching beneath feet. The rare distant howl, eerie and sorrowful.

My mind was a whirlwind. Every step felt increasingly burdensome, the load of betrayal weighing on me. They didn't even stand up for me, I thought resentfully. Not a single one of them.

The pack had betrayed me without a second thought, and now I found myself here—pulled into a rogue’s domain, a piece in a game I couldn’t comprehend.

Time went by, perhaps longer. Time faded in the fog of agony and fatigue. Just as my legs were about to collapse completely, the woods opened up into a wide clearing.

The rogue pack’s encampment lay before me, ominous and disturbing. It wasn’t the disorderly situation I had anticipated. The constructions were crude yet practical—timber shanties and stone edifices that appeared to rise from the earth itself. Flames flickered in metal barrels, their glow creating elongated shadows on the dirt trails.

The air smelled of rot, pungent and bitter, yet underneath it lingered something vaguely recognizable. Wolf aroma. The aroma of a pack.

"Get moving," the rogue shouted, pulling on the rope.

I tripped ahead, just managing to stop myself from toppling over. He didn’t pause, pulling me through the settlement without a moment's thought. We were being watched. Rogues slouched against walls, sitting on crates, their looks keen and evaluating. A few mocked. Some smiled, their teeth gleaming like blades.

The outlaw pulled me toward a tiny cabin in the middle of the clearing. The door opened with a creak, and a woman emerged.

She was older, her face marked and worn. Tattoos coiled around her arms, deep and complex, resembling climbing vines. Her gaze was frigid, analytical, as it scanned me.

"Matron," the rogue remarked, pushing me ahead. "Take care of her."

The woman scoffed, showing no interest. "Did you bring me this chaos?"

"She belongs to the Alpha. Follow the instructions given to you."

The matron cursed quietly but seized my arm and pulled me inside. The atmosphere was heavy with the aroma of herbs and ink, and the walls were adorned with shelves containing jars and tools unfamiliar to me.

“Strip,” she stated tersely, her tone cutting like a knife.

I paused, and she sighed in exasperation. "Don't squander my time, girl." You’re dirty. “The Alpha won’t give you a second glance in this state.”

Her tone was icy and detached, yet I complied with her request. My fingers struggled with the knots of my dress, my cheeks reddening with embarrassment. She avoided my gaze, preoccupied with a bowl of water and a towel.

When I was exposed, she glanced back, her gaze scanning my body with an air of detachment. She cleaned my skin with a harsh precision, her touch detached and nearly robotic.

“Are you mute or simply dumb?” she inquired when I remained silent.

I bit the inside of my cheek and remained quiet. It's preferable for them to believe I was mute. More secure.

She snorted once more. "Figures."

Once she finished, she gave me a coarse woolen garment. It was simple, rough on my skin, yet it was tidy. She made no effort to conceal her contempt as she took a step back and pointed to the door.

"Leave." "You’re now a concern for someone else."

The rogue stood outside, waiting. He seized my arm and yanked me forward, his hold painful.

"Alpha is asking to see you," he remarked, his tone nonchalant, nearly indifferent.

I anticipated being brought to an office, perhaps a room similar to those in my former pack. Instead, he guided me to the boundary of the settlement, where the terrain sloped down into a shadowy, gaping cave.

The temperature dropped as we went down, with the odor of wet stone and soil thick in the air. Torches shimmered against the walls, their glow creating haunting shadows that swirled like phantoms.

The cave led into a spacious room, its walls adorned with shelves and aged, worn-out furniture. In the middle of the room stood a stone bed, and upon it rested a man.

He looked pale, with his chest rising and lowering shallowly. His face appeared thin, his skin glistening with perspiration.

The renegade pushed me ahead. “Blake,” he remarked, gesturing to the bed. "The brother of the Alpha."

A chair groaned, and I glanced over to spot a man in the corner. He was big, his build massive and sturdy. His gaze was piercing, as black as the darkness, and held me frozen.

"So," he remarked, his tone sleek yet tinged with firmness. “You are the exchange.”

I gulped painfully, my throat parched.

The man rose, his actions measured and careful, resembling a predator assessing its target.

"I'm Alpha Liam," he stated, maintaining eye contact with me. “And you, small wolf, are present here due to your pack giving me no other option.”

His tone was tranquil and calculated, yet an icy rage lurked beneath that made my skin crawl.

He motioned to Blake, his demeanor becoming stern. "My sibling is dying. Your pack is responsible for this. Jonah, to be precise. He trapped Blake, allowing him to bleed to death.

My stomach twisted, bile beginning to come up in my throat. Jonah. Certainly, it was him.

Liam narrowed his eyes. "Therefore, you find yourself here now. And you will rectify it."

I blinked, confusion slicing through the fear. “I—I can’t grasp this,” I faltered, my voice rough from lack of use.

"You will," Liam replied, his voice emotionless. "The Shadow pack contains what we require." A scroll for healing. "You will penetrate their pack and deliver it to me."

A chill ran through my veins. "How is that?"

Liam grinned, a malicious curve of his mouth. "Lucas, the father of the Lycan King, is searching for a young partner. You'll be that mate."

The words struck me like a punch. My chest constricted, my breathing halting.

“I—”

“Don’t waste your breath protesting,” Liam interrupted me. "You have no option." You either take this action, or Blake will die. "And if he dies..." His gaze deepened, his tone lowering to a threatening whisper. "Likewise, you do."

I gazed at him, my thoughts racing. There was no escape from this. No way out.

Liam's grin grew broader as he moved in closer. "It would be wise to keep one thing in mind, young wolf." Your existence is mine now. "Make sure you remember it."