Officially Going Rogue

By the time Talia returned home, the house was quiet. Too quiet.

Alina was gone.

Panic pricked her spine—until she spotted the school bag missing from its usual spot. Right, she remembered, breathing out—last day of school. Maybe the Goddess does throw the occasional bone after all.

With luck, Alina was at the pack grocery store where she worked part-time after classes. She’d be there for a few more hours, out of sight and away from suspicious eyes.

Talia paced her room, heart pounding as the weight of her decision settled in. This wasn’t just an emotional reaction anymore. It was real. She was leaving. They were leaving. And if she didn’t act soon, Alina would be trapped in a nightmare—with a Beta as a wedding present.

She grabbed her phone and hit the call.

“Hey, Talia!” Alina answered, her voice bright, a little groggy. “What’s up?”

“Alina, listen carefully,” Talia said, her voice low and urgent. “I need you to pack a bag for both of us. Nothing too heavy, just essentials. Be discreet.”

There was a pause.

“We’re really doing this?” Alina asked, not fearful, steady. Ready.

“You remember our last conversation,” Talia replied, her throat tightening. “I’m not letting Thomas offer you up to Beta Leon like some prize goat. That’s not your future. Not if I can help it.”

Silence again. Then Alina’s voice, quiet but unmistakably serious:

“Well... the Beta is fine.”

Talia said nothing.

She knew Beta Leon was physically beautiful—tall, lean, charismatic in the way all dangerous things are. And she knew Alina, like most of the young she-wolves, had once harbored a harmless crush on him. It was innocent, back when his smiles seemed charming and his compliments felt earned.

But Leon was anything but harmless.

He was poison dressed in perfection. And lately, Alina had started to sense it too.

His attention had shifted—grown heavier, darker. The way his eyes lingered too long. The way he stood too close, letting his arm brush against her when there was no need. And then there were the comments. Soft, sly little suggestions laced with meaning that made even Talia’s wolf bristle.

Thomas had done nothing to stop it.

When Talia brought it up, he’d only shrugged and said, “She’ll be eighteen soon.”

As if that made it acceptable. As if Alina’s future wasn’t hers to protect.

It was that moment, more than any other, that sealed it for Talia. They couldn’t wait. No one was coming to save Alina.

So, Talia would.

“You’re serious,” Alina muttered, her tone shifting. The joke dropped. The reality clicked.

“Dead serious. I’ve already packed some basics here. You grab what you can—food, anything you can carry. No goodbyes. No chatter. We don’t need a parade.”

“Okay. Got it.” Alina’s voice sharpened. “Do we have a meeting spot?”

“Old oak tree,” Talia said immediately. “Thirty minutes.”

“Done. I’ll be fast.”

The line went dead.

Talia stood still for just a moment. No panic. No doubt. Just the thrum of something fierce rising in her chest. This was the moment she took control—of her life, her future, and Alina’s too.

She moved through the house with calm precision. A few changes of clothes, her leather dagger belt, a pouch of herbs her mother once told her to carry “for when wolves become men and men become monsters.” Talia had never been sure if it actually did anything—but sometimes, you hold on to a charm not because it’s real, but because you need it to be.

She wrote a final note and left it under her pillow. It wasn’t dramatic, just a sentence. Something only Roland might find and understand.

Then she stepped outside.

The air was cold, but not cruel. The early evening sun cast everything in a golden haze. She crossed the field behind the house, boots crunching over old pine needles and brittle grass. The forest ahead loomed like an old friend with secrets.

The old oak tree came into view, massive and gnarled, its branches like arms guarding memories. It was where she and Alina had played as pups. Where they made blood-oaths with pricked fingers and solemn pouts. Where they buried their mother’s favorite bracelet in the roots so it would “become part of the pack forever.”

It was fitting, somehow, that this was where they’d say goodbye to it all.

Talia didn’t wait long.

Alina came into view moments later, a backpack slung over one shoulder and determination written all over her face. No fear. Just fire.

“Did you get everything?” Talia asked, scanning the bag automatically.

“Sandwiches. Water. A sweater. And... this.” Alina pulled out a tiny wolf plush. “Don’t laugh. He’s backup morale.”

Talia smiled despite herself. “I’m not laughing. ... keep him quiet during stealth ops.”

“He only growls when provoked,” Alina deadpanned, then straightened. “Where to?”

“The river,” Talia said. “We’ll follow it out past the northern ridge. If we stay low and avoid the trails, they won’t find us until we’ve got real distance.”

“And then?”

Talia shrugged. “Then we figure it out. I’ve got some ideas. But the first step is getting free.”

They turned toward the trees, the familiar path suddenly feeling unfamiliar. Leaving wasn’t the hard part. Staying gone, that was the challenge.

“They’ll come looking,” Alina said, her voice quieter now. Serious.

“Let them,” Talia replied. “I’ll be damned if they take you back.”

They walked in silence for a while, boots soft on the dirt trail, birds chirping overhead like nothing was unraveling. But Talia felt the tightrope tension of stepping over a line she couldn’t uncross. They didn’t have much time.

Talia hadn’t reported for her assigned shift as the personal guard to the future Luna. That alone would’ve set off alarms. She was never late, never careless—not the kind of soldier to simply disappear without notice. By now, Thomas would know something was wrong. Thomas would have taken her absence for what it was, defiance. Not a resignation. Not a sick day.

A kiss-my-furry-butt kind of message, loud and clear.

And she knew exactly how he'd respond.

Which meant they had a head start, but not much of one.

She adjusted her bag and picked up the pace along the riverbank, eyes scanning for signs of movement. “We’ll have to stay near the water until nightfall,” she said quietly to Alina. “They’ll be looking for tracks, scent trails, broken branches. The river washes most of that away.”

Alina nodded, her expression steady but tight. “How long until they come?”

Talia didn’t sugarcoat it. “They’re probably already on their way.”

When they reached the river, the water was cold and fast. A clean break. It would carry their scent for miles, scatter it into the rocks and trees, and out of reach.

“Do you think we’ll be okay?” Alina asked.

Talia looked at her—really looked. She wasn’t the little girl Talia remembered braiding flower crowns. She grew stronger every day. Smarter. Fiercer.

“We will be,” she said. “Because we don’t have another option.”

Alina nodded, satisfied with that answer.

They stepped into the river together, water rushing over their boots. Talia felt the shock of it in her bones, but she didn’t stop. One step. Then another. It felt like leaving behind an entire lifetime in pieces.

As the current tugged them downstream, the pack and its shadows faded behind them. The rejection. The threats. The false futures. All swallowed by water and distance.

Talia glanced at Alina, who—despite the cold, despite the fear—was smiling.

That was enough.

They didn’t have a map. They didn’t have a plan beyond “run fast and don’t look back.” But they had each other.

Sisters. Survivors. And finally, finally, free.