The Alpha’s Scorned

What does the term 'Rogue' mean to you? To some, it may mean a person that has been dishonest or disloyal. A person willing to go against the norm. To others, it could mean a person that's been cast out due to their savage or destructive tendencies. But to me, a rogue is just a person that has been condemned to live a life outcast from everyone else. A rogue is a person that's forced to fight for their survival on a regular and constant basis. 

There are certain rules when it comes to living the life of a rogue.

5. Being comfortable can get you killed

4. Always sleep with one eye open

3. Never stay in one spot for too long

2. There are no second chances

1. Kill or be killed

Consider these the fundamentals of surviving. If you become complacent, then it won't be long until you're killed. Being a rogue means you always need to be on guard. Always watching over your shoulder. Never knowing who will come after you next. 

The life of a rogue is never easy. Being a rogue means you're fighting for your life every minute of every day. Most people that are cast out and become rogue rarely live to tell the tale. We're deemed as threats and targeted. We're seen as the enemies to a pack, regardless of our intentions. If we're caught on pack territory, we're killed immediately. Not only that, but they actually celebrate our defeat. They pride themselves on how well they manage to hurt us or how long it took to kill us. It's become a sort of competition for pack wolves. A sport even.

Twenty-one years ago, I was born into the Blood Moon Pack. However, I was cast out when I was only a few days old. Why? You may ask. I truly have no idea. 

Over the years, I've asked myself all the basic questions when it comes to being a rogue orphan. I wonder if my parents are still alive. Will they find me? What about other relatives? Surely I have some of those? Do they know I even exist? 

Even the fact that I'm a rogue. Something I've never managed to find the actual reason as to why. Why did my pack cast me out all those years ago? Did they see me as a threat? Was it because I had no one to take care of me, so they felt casting me out was the only option? Did my parents do something so horrible that they couldn't bear to even look at me? Whatever the reason, it must be bad because a person isn't deemed a rogue unless it's for extreme purposes. Typically rogues are traitors, criminals, or those that oppose the pack's decisions. It's very rare for children to become rogues unless they are born a rogue. Instead, we are generally placed into the foster care system or made to live like an Omega, a wolf that serves the alpha family. 

You're probably wondering how I even managed to survive all these years. It's a question that I don't really have the answer to either, only a general sense. 

I had what you could call an adoptive family. A rogue couple had found me nearly a week after I had been cast out. Something never heard of before. Typically babies can only survive for a maximum of 48 hours without food. They were surprised that I was even still alive. They managed to nourish me back to health and took care of me ever since. Since they had no idea as to who my actual parents were, they decided to adopt me. 

When my adoptive parents found me, they thought I was dead. Not only was I barely breathing, but I looked like a skeleton. I was literally skin and bones. Even though rogues are typically given a bad reputation, the couple who found me were actually quite nice. Not only did they save me, but they also took me in as one of their own. An act that would only create more risk for them.

Rogue babies are normally either killed or left for dead. A rogue life is a dangerous one. It's either kill or be killed. As a rogue, you can't afford to attract attention to yourself. Doing so could cost you your life. So the fact that they decided to take care of me shows how tainted a rogue's reputation really is.

It's because of Callista and Maddox that I'm alive today. Each night, they would leave me in a secure cave while they would go in search of food. We kept far enough away from the pack border, but it was too dangerous for me to go hunting with them. I would only slow them down. Not only that, but I would only pose a risk in getting them captured.

 

...Thirteen Years Ago...

 

Typically Callista and Maddox would avoid having to enter pack territory. It was always a risk, as the border was patrolled 24/7. Pack warriors were always searching for any sightings of rogues. Being caught was instant death. We were never put on trial or even given a second chance. Rather we were exterminated like the vermin they considered us to be.

I was taught from a very young age that if for some reason they never returned, I was meant to go on without them. We had gone nearly a week without food and were desperate for anything that could sustain us. Like normal, I had stayed back and slept as my adoptive parents went out. If we didn't find food soon, we would surely starve.

I don’t know what possessed me to leave the cave that day. But when I look back on it, I think I knew something was going to happen.

That day was like any other. My parents had left during the middle of the night to hunt while I stayed fast asleep in the cave. However, unlike every other night, I found myself growing increasingly restless. I didn’t know why, but I thought a quick walk would help calm my mind.

My parents never liked me leaving the cave unsupervised, but I felt I had no other choice. It was as though something was compelling me to leave. 

I walked the familiar forest, letting my mind relax with nature. I find nature to be extremely relaxing, and I love everything about it. From the starry night sky to the calming smells of the forest. 

That night, however, there seemed to be a beautiful scent in the air. I had never smelled anything so beautiful before. I followed the scent, quickly forgetting that I shouldn’t wander too far from the cave. The only thing I knew was that I had to find the source of the smell.

The more I wandered through the forest, the more potent the smell became. I could hear some voices in the distance. Deep down, I knew that I should run away. But it was as if my body had a mind of its own. 

The voices started to grow louder, and I knew I had no choice but to go back. I turned around to head back when I came face to face with the source of the beautiful smell. 

Standing in front of me was a teenage boy. I was only eight, but he looked to be a few years older than me. Even in the night, I could make out his beautiful blue eyes.

As if we were magnets, we slowly approached one another. My instincts should’ve told me to run away. I could tell he was a pack wolf, and if he was here, it meant that the guards wouldn’t be too far away. If they found me, I would be killed. 

My instincts kept screaming at me, telling me not to run. Just being in this boy’s presence put an eerie calm over me. 

We slowly continued to approach each other until he was standing directly in front of me. Neither of us said anything. As if my body had a mind of its own, I wrapped my arms around him. He didn’t say anything, but soon after, I could feel his arms wrap around my waist.