You smell like mate

WINTER POV

"S-Slade?" I stuttered once again, my heart pounding as I desperately hoped I was not imagining things. The last time I had vivid hallucinations like this was only a month after his death. He walked into the room, looking worn out, and my happiness swelled as I prepared to run into his arms, but then reality hit me—he was just a figment of my imagination.

Throughout that month, I had been plagued by this illusion, each feeling so real, only to dissipate into thin air. But this time, it felt different. It felt more tangible, more substantial than the first time.

Compelled by my emotions, I approached him; my gaze fixed unwaveringly on his form. My hand instinctively reached out to touch the scruff on his cheek, but Kendall abruptly pulled me back.

My back collided with Kendall's chest, jolting me back to my senses.

"What the hell are you doing?!" he growled, his voice laced with concern.

"Slade," I murmured, my voice barely above a whisper. "He's Slade!"

Kendall's eyes narrowed, his jaw tensing. "I can see him too," he said, a vein pulsating in his jawline. "But mindlessly rushing to him might not be a good idea. We still don't know who he really is, apart from the resemblance."

"I can feel it deep within me," I insisted, urgency seeping into my voice. "My wolf confirms it."

Taking a deep breath, I placed a trembling hand over my racing heart and focused my gaze on Slade as he observed us.

Kendall shook his head, cupping my face gently. "You're still hurting, Winter. It's possible to be mistaken," he said, his voice filled with worry. He pulled me into a tight hug, offering a brief moment of comfort before releasing me. At that moment, the Slade lookalike spoke.

"Do I need to ask what's going on here, or should I start with the best part? Whichever way, heads will roll," Slade lookalike said, a glint appearing in his eyes momentarily as his lips curled up in a mischievous smirk.

He may have looked like Slade, but there was something off about him. His scent was peculiar, stronger than that of the other rogues present. The aura emanating from him carried an intensity that surpassed even theirs.

He must be the king of the Rogue. Yet, for the life of me, I couldn't think of why Slade would be here looking like a rogue king.

"We've come seeking answers," I stated, surprised by the firmness in my voice. It was a rare moment of confidence that emerged deep within me, despite the overwhelming fear that coursed through my veins.

Slade lookalike standing before us seemed more inclined to kill us than listen to anything we had to say. Yet, a smile curved upon his lips, and that small gesture stirred a rapid thumping in my heart.

"We should speak in private," Kendall interjected, breaking the tension in the air.

Slade lookalike arched an eyebrow, observing us briefly before throwing his head back and bursting into laughter. "And why would I ever want to speak with you privately?"

Damn it, the more he spoke, the more he diverged from the Slade I knew. Yet, deep within me, I knew he was the same at his core. He was the same person! Did the goddess and seer send me here on purpose?!

"We mean you no harm; we only seek answers," Kendall insisted, dropping the knife he held to the ground and raising his hands in a gesture of surrender.

Kendall glanced at me, and I mirrored his actions.

"I am the king here, and if we are to converse, it will be on my terms. However, I still don't trust you enough to engage in private discussion." Slade lookalike, the king of rogues said.

"The seer, Rachel the Fifth, sent us," I interjected, revealing the original title of our seer. She hailed from a long line of diviners, and she was the sole survivor of her lineage.

For a moment, I watched the rogue king's expression transform from a smile to a grimace. His eyes narrowed at Kendall before settling on mine—beautiful blue orbs that seemed capable of peering deep into my soul.

"She is the seer of our pack, and she assured us that we would find answers if we came here," I explained, hoping to bridge the gap of understanding.

The rogue king let out a sigh, scanning his surroundings. Then, in a murmured tone, he uttered, "Follow me."

I nodded, dropping my hands and wincing as they ached. I rolled my eyes as a rogue shot me a glare, but the assertive voice of the Rogue King swiftly halted his hostility.

"No one touches them unless I say so," the Rogue King asserted.

The rogues groaned collectively, disappointed that they wouldn't have the satisfaction of killing us. For now, we were spared. If the Rogue King held the answers I sought, this could be a successful encounter. However, I doubted he didn't have the intention of killing us as well. At least he had mentioned it.

As we entered a spacious hall that resembled a throne room, the atmosphere shifted. Authority and grandeur permeated the air, embodied by the exquisite tapestries depicting heroic battles and legendary conquests. At the far end stood a magnificent throne, crafted from the finest oak and adorned with shimmering gold accents.

I wiped my suddenly sweaty palms on my shirt and glanced at Kendall, who mirrored my nervous gesture. Being in the throne room felt like stepping into another world—one colder and more unwelcoming. The tension was discernible, erasing the sense of friendliness I had associated with the place.

The Rogue King turned, his piercing ice-blue eyes seeming to bore into my soul, demanding respect and obedience. He raised an eyebrow, a faint smile tugging at his lips. Perhaps he sensed my fear, but I refused to let him intimidate me. I tilted my chin and held his gaze unwaveringly.

After what felt like an eternity, he finally looked away, and I released a relieved breath. But my breath hitched again as he took a step toward me. Instantly, Kendall positioned himself in front of me, his eyes narrowed.

"We've come for answers," Kendall declared.

"And I haven't denied you one," the Rogue King responded, his gaze still fixed on me. "Are you, by chance, intimidated by me?"

Kendall scoffed, his bravado faltering slightly. "W-what? No!"

"Then leave the lady alone. She seems quite strong," the Rogue King remarked, his eyes lingering on mine.

"I'll be fine," I mumbled, touching Kendall's shoulder. "He won't harm me with you here, and I can defend myself if needed."

"This is his territory," Kendall hissed. "Some things should be prevented before they even happen!"

Just like Slade's death. It should have been prevented before it happened, but the damn prophecy messed everything up. Right now, everything felt chaotic, and being in the rogue pack seemed like a sick joke.

Reluctantly, Kendall stepped away from my side as the rogue king approached. He reached out and grasped my chin, forcing me to meet his intense gaze. His voice was a low murmur as he asked, "Are you the bride sent to me by the goddess?"

"B-bride?" I stuttered, my eyes widening in disbelief. He nodded, a wolfish smile spreading across his face.

"N-no..."

The rogue king growled, pulling me closer to him. "You smell like mate, and yet, the scent of those I kill clings to you. Who the fuck are you?!"