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The Rogue’s Arrival
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2025-09-03 00:01:32Alejandro’s POV
The villa hums quietly in the late morning, a kind of soft, steady rhythm that has become the pulse of our growing Haven. I leave the study reluctantly, unfinished reports and unanswered messages tugging at me, because the moment Koa calls about an injured rogue, I know I need to see this for myself.When I arrive at the greenhouse, my eyes immediately find Zenith. She is kneeling beside him, the rogue, guiding her hands with a precision and serenity that never fails to amaze me. The boy is young, maybe nineteen, barely older than our teenagers, and yet he carries the marks of battle. Torn flesh, silver burns across his shoulders, wolfsbane abrasions slowing the natural healing that should have come naturally to him.Koa holds him steady, but even with his strength, the rogue winces at every movement. Darian, Lysander, and Elysia hover a cautious distance away, unsure whether to look, breathe, or intervene.I take a
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Alejandro’s POVCaius does not speak much at first. He does not need to. The wounds on his body may have closed, but I know the scars in his mind and spirit are deeper, older, harder to reach. Still, even in silence, I sense the shift, he is no longer the hunted, desperate rogue I saw sprawled in the greenhouse. He is aware, alert, and slowly, carefully letting himself belong.The teens are eager to help. Lysander hovers near him, eager to prove himself useful, while Elysia fusses over his blankets and small comforts. Darian offers sharp observations, occasionally teasing, but the look in his eyes says he is measuring Caius’s place in the pack.Koa stands beside me, alert as ever, but even he allows a flicker of admiration toward the boy. “He’s got fight in him,” Koa murmurs. “And he’s smart enough to survive.” I nod. “Yes. But he’s also learning he doesn’t have to survive alone anymore.”Zenith hovers close, her hands occasionally
Alejandro's Human Antidote The Rogue’s Arrival
Alejandro’s POVThe villa hums quietly in the late morning, a kind of soft, steady rhythm that has become the pulse of our growing Haven. I leave the study reluctantly, unfinished reports and unanswered messages tugging at me, because the moment Koa calls about an injured rogue, I know I need to see this for myself.When I arrive at the greenhouse, my eyes immediately find Zenith. She is kneeling beside him, the rogue, guiding her hands with a precision and serenity that never fails to amaze me. The boy is young, maybe nineteen, barely older than our teenagers, and yet he carries the marks of battle. Torn flesh, silver burns across his shoulders, wolfsbane abrasions slowing the natural healing that should have come naturally to him.Koa holds him steady, but even with his strength, the rogue winces at every movement. Darian, Lysander, and Elysia hover a cautious distance away, unsure whether to look, breathe, or intervene.I take a
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