6. Found By Rogues.

~ JOCELYN ~

‘Easy there, little wolf. You're safe now…’

That voice.

It sweeps softly through the haziness in my mind like a breeze brushing across my skin—warm, calm, and gentle in a way that comforts me. My body feels heavy as I blink slowly, trying to open my eyes.

At first, all I can see is just a fog of whiteness. Just then, my mind starts booting up too.

I remember the forest. I remember running away from Caspian and everything that shattered my heart on the day that was supposed to be the best day of my life. I remember being so weak and tired that I fainted after I crossed the boundary—

Wait.

Where… am I?

My heart beats faster, and finally, my eyes adjust clearly.

The first thing I see is a roof above me—wooden beams curved gently high over my head. The wood is warm brown in color, polished, but still looks a bit old. Also, there is a giant open window near the wall close to the roof. Soft golden sunlight spills into the room through the window. The air in here smells like lavender and bread toast. It's almost comforting.

Also, I’m in a bed. A real bed.

The sheets are thick and warm. A soft blanket covers me, and I can feel my feet wrapped with fluffy socks. Someone cleaned me up. Someone cared enough to tend to me in my weakness without killing me.

I don't know if I should be happy about it.

Groaning a little, I sit up halfway on the bed, and instantly, I freeze when I discover that I am not alone.

There is a man sitting in a chair beside the bed.

What the hell?

He looks up as I move to adjust my back and sit up fully. When our eyes meet, he offers me a small, kind smile.

“Finally,” he says gently. “You're awake.”

His voice doesn't sound like that voice I remember inside my head.

As I stare at him, panic creeps into me.

“Who are you?” My voice cracks from dryness.

He stands slowly, his hands opening as if to show me that he means no harm. He is tall—probably 6’1—with messy blond hair that falls in soft waves over his forehead. His skin is tan, and his face is cut like someone carved him out of precious gemrocks—sharp jaw, high cheekbones, and soft-looking lips that pull into a Cupid’s bow when he smiles again.

However, it’s his eyes that draw most of my attention. Warm brown, the color of honey melting in tea. They don’t feel dangerous. They feel… calm. Caring. Compassionate.

“My name is Elian,” he says. “Elian Vane. I’m the Beta of the Moonclaw Rogue Pack.”

My breath catches. “Moonclaw Rogue Pack?”

“Yes.” he nods. “And I understand your shock. You were brought into the pack a couple—”

“Please don't tell me that I'm in the Moonclaw Rogue Pack.”

“Uhm… but it's the truth.”

Lost for words, I just stare at him wide-eyed. I can't believe this.

The Moonclaw Rogue Pack? According to the stories I’ve heard, they’re supposed to be wild, lawless, scattered. A place where no rules exist.

But this room looks nothing like the horror stories. What I am seeing is beautiful. Organized. And smells amazing.

Still, I pull the blanket tighter around me. My body tenses.

“What do you want with me?”

He holds up both hands in surrender. “Nothing, I swear. We found you near the boundary. You were unconscious and barely breathing.”

I remember the details. I know I collapsed. But to be brought here….

“You’ve been out for two days,” Elian adds softly. “We don’t know your name. Or where you came from.”

For a long moment, I keep quiet, contemplating whether I should tell him my name or not. The cautious part of me tells me not to reveal my name, but the other part that wants to reciprocate Elian's kind gesture of telling me his name just pushes me to talk.

Moreover, what exactly do I stand to gain by hiding my name?

“Jocelyn. My name is Jocelyn.” I finally tell him.

Elian tilts his head. “Nice to meet you, Jocelyn.”

I stare at him. “You’re… not going to lock me up? Or force me to slave for your pack?”

He laughs. Not cruelly. More like I’ve just told a weird joke.

“Is that what they say about rogues?” he asks.

I don’t answer. But the stories from Nightfall have always painted rogues as dangerous. Violent. Broken wolves who turned their backs on the Goddess and the packs.

But Elian doesn’t look broken. Or dangerous. I know appearances can be deceiving, but my sharp instincts don't recognize him as a threat. Also, this place doesn't strike me as someplace evil.

“You’re safe here,” he says again. “We don’t hurt people who haven’t hurt us, especially those who are running away from something and need our help.”

I look away, shame creeping up my throat.

“You don’t have to tell me what happened,” he adds quickly. “But you don’t have to be afraid either.”

I look back at him. His kindness is confusing. I don’t know how to trust it.

“I was rejected.”

The words burn my tongue. Elian tries his best not to look surprised, but I can see the cracks of sympathy and pity breaking across his face.

“I was supposed to become Luna.” I scoff a sad chuckle. “But it turns out I'm not the Luna material for him. He rejected me in front of everyone, and the entire pack watched.”

Elian's face changes then. Not just with the sympathy and pity—but also with understanding. Like he has seen that kind of pain before.

He nods once, slowly. “I’m sorry you went through all that. Being rejected by the one meant for you is no little pain, and that’s not something you can easily come back from.”

“I wasn't enough for him.” My voice breaks. I don’t realize tears are building until one slips down my cheek.

Quickly, I wipe it away, instantly hating myself for crying in front of a stranger and bugging him with my problems.

“Listen,” Elian kneels down beside the bed, so we’re eye-level with each other. “Maybe you were too much for him to handle.”

I laugh bitterly. “That sounds like something you tell everyone to make them feel better.”

He shakes his head. “Only when it’s matters. And it matters now because you need to hear it and let it sink into you.”

A long silence stretches between us. He makes talking to him feel so easy without judgement, and for the first time since I ran, I feel like I can breathe. Not fully yet, but enough to keep me going with handling the pain.

I study Elian for a moment. “Are you really a rogue?”

“Yeah.” He shrugs. “Born and raised.”

“You don’t seem like one.”

He grins, playfully running a hand through his amazing hair. “That’s what everyone says. Guess I'm too handsome for my identity.”

A laugh escapes my lips before I can stop it. I am on the brink of asking him more questions when a couple knocks on the door suddenly pulls my attention there.

Elian glances over his shoulder. “Come in.”

The door opens, and another man walks in.

This one immediately changes the atmosphere in the room.

His presence is heavy in the air, not in a scary way, but strong. Powerful. Confident.

He is taller than Elian, probably 6’3, and broad in the shoulders like he has carried wars on his back. His skin is a deep bronze, and his short black hair is perfectly trimmed. His full lips don’t smile as he walks in, but his eyes—dark brown and sharp—scan the room carefully.

This must be their Alpha. The Rogue Alpha of the Moonclaw Pack.

He walks to Elian’s side and looks at me—not with suspicion or disgust, but with curiosity. With calmness. With that same quiet power I have only ever seen before on Caspian.

However, unlike Caspian, this man doesn’t make me feel small.

“You’re finally awake.”

His voice is deep, smooth like a cello.

I nod slowly, unsure how to act.

“I’m Alpha Declan,” he says. “Alpha Leader of the Moonclaw Pack. You’re safe here, Miss….”

“Jocelyn.” Elian answers for me and stands up to his feet. He places a hand on Declan’s shoulder. “She just woke up a few minutes ago. No signs of fever. She’s stable.”

Declan steps closer to the bed. “Can I ask how you’re feeling?"

“I’m…” I pause. “I’m tired. And I'm also a little scared.”

“That’s fair,” he says with a small smile. “I’m guessing you’ve been through a lot.”