Born Rogue

My parents growl in response. “Shift,” my dad demands. The lead wolf shakes its head and steps forward again. My dad steps forward in response, shielding my mom and I. My mom turns to me and bends down to eye level. “Sweetheart, your father and I need you to run home. Don’t worry about us. We will return once we take care of these wolves, but we need you to stay safe,” she explains. “Can you do that for Mommy?” I nod. “Good. Now go ahead and run to the woods over there,” she instructed, pointing in the opposite direction of the wolves approaching us. “Your father and I love you very much. Please stay safe.” She kisses my cheek before standing up and turning to face the oncoming wolves once more. “I love you, too,” I tell both of them before running away as my mom instructed. My feet pound against the ground and my legs burn, but I don’t stop until I reach the tree line. I know that my mom told me to go home, but I didn’t want to leave them. Making a decision, I hide i

Beep. Beep. Beep. I groan. I hate my alarm clock so much. I roll out of bed and enter the bathroom. Time to get ready. I brush my hair and teeth before applying some light makeup. I am not a huge fan of make up, but a little can be nice. I apply some mascara and some eyeliner. Stepping into my closet, I contemplate what jewelry to wear with my outfit. I pull on the skirt, tank top, and blazer. I think a pair of earrings and a necklace would look good. Choosing a dark blue set to match the color of the tank top, I also grab a pair of black pumps. Once dressed, I go to the kitchen. I pull out the sandwich I made the day before and pack it into a lunch box, along with fruit, chips, and a water bottle. My shoes click along the hallway floor as I leave. I grab my purse and car keys from the hook on the wall where I keep them. I love my car. It is a blue sedan with a black leather interior. I slip into the driver's seat and place my lunch box and purse on the passenger’s seat. M

Knock. Knock. “Come in,” I call, looking up from the computer screen in front of me. The door to my office opens and my secretary, Jane, walks in. “Here is the information that you wanted regarding this evening’s client meeting,” she informs me as she sets the pile of papers on my desk. “Thank you, Jane,” I reply. She nods in response and I hear the door shut behind her. I rise from my chair and walk over to the large floor to ceiling window that makes up one wall of my office. I survey the city below, thinking back over what has happened these past couple of years. I worked under Claire as her assistant for a year. During that time, she took me under her wing and taught me how to be a good business woman. I went to client and project meetings with her. I spent hours helping her read through and review business proposals. I even spent two months traveling overseas with her. Claire and I developed a close relationship. I think of her as a mother in the same way th

I wait to see if the Alpha will be coming to speak with me today. After two hours have passed, I pull out my phone. My captors, for whatever reason, never took my purse from me. I check the cell reception. Zero bars. That’s not good. I can’t call Claire and let her know the situation. Hopefully, Jane remembers my instructions. When I first hired her, I told her that if I missed two days of work without letting her know, to contact Claire. I am left with no choice but to trust that she remembers. Time ticks by slowly, I am able to do some work on my phone but don’t want to deplete the battery too fast. When I’m not on my phone, I watch the seconds pass on my watch. At seven in the evening, a guard walks down the hallway and stops outside of my cell. “Here’s your food, Rogue,” he snarls, setting a plate on the ground. He kicks the plate through the bars and places a cup in the spot that the plate had vacated. “Enjoy your dinner.” He turns and walks away in the same direct

Several minutes pass before I finally step out of the shower and wipe the water from my eyes. Blinking several times, I locate a corner shelf that holds shampoo and body wash that is very obviously a man’s. Seeing no other soap, I pick up the shampoo and squirt out a palm full. I place the bottle back on the shelf before rubbing the shampoo into my hair section by section. The soap quickly works into a lather and I massage it deeply into my scalp, brushing my fingers through the strands of hair. Once I have determined that my hair has been thoroughly cleaned, I step back into the shower and relish the feeling of the water flowing through my hair. Reveling in the peace that the simple act brings me. I step out from under the water once more as the last bit of lather slides down the drain. I return to the corner shelf, but this time I pick up the bottle of body wash. The soap leaves behind tiny bits of lather on my skin as I scrub the dirt from my body. Satisfied that th