The Rogue's Reluctant Mate

SELENA

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Mud squelched under my worn boots.

It always seemed to be muddy in the Omega sector of the Kaelen pack.

Or maybe it was just our little corner of it, tucked away by the sluggish part of the Grayling River, the part no one else wanted. I kept my head down, like always. Eyes on the ground meant fewer eyes on me.

Fewer chances for someone to decide I needed a lesson in respect, or humility, or whatever bullshit excuse they’d come up with that day.

My basket felt heavy on my arm, filled with the herbs Mama had sent me to gather. She’d be wanting them for her poultices. Papa’s cough had been getting worse. The damp air of our small, patched up cabin didn’t help.

“Selena!”

I flinched. My gaze snapped up, then immediately down again when I saw who it was. Wesley. One of Alpha Henry’s grinning idiots.

He was flanked by two others, their chests puffed out like they’d personally won some great battle instead of just being born into slightly better Omega families than mine.

“Lost your tongue little mouse?” Wesley sneered. His friends chuckled.

I just shook my head, a tiny movement. Speaking was a risk. A word could be twisted, a tone misread. Silence was safer. Most of the time.

“Alpha Henry wants a word with your father,” Wesley said, his voice loud enough for everyone in the muddy lane to hear. “Something about...contributions.”

My stomach tightened. Contributions. That always meant they wanted more than we had. More food, more firewood, more of whatever meager scraps we managed to cling to.

I nodded again, hoping they’d just leave.

“Look at me when I’m talking to you girl!” Wesley snapped.

Slowly, I lifted my eyes.

Just enough to meet his, then I focused on the grimy collar of his tunic. I could feel the contempt coiling in my gut, hot and sharp. Contempt for him, for Henry, for this whole damn pack that treated us like dirt under their claws.

But I kept my face blank.

A blank face couldn’t betray you.

He seemed to enjoy my discomfort for a moment longer, then smirked. “Tell Alfred. Now.”

They swaggered off, probably to harass some other poor soul. I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding and hurried towards home, the herbs forgotten for a moment.

Our cabin was small, just two rooms, but Mama always kept it clean. The scent of her herb stew usually filled the air, a comforting smell.

Today, though, it was just the damp earth and the lingering scent of woodsmoke.

Papa was sitting by the hearth, carving a small wooden bird. His hands, usually so strong and steady, trembled a little. His cough echoed in the small space. Alfred Veridian.

The kindest soul in this whole cursed pack. He didn’t deserve this life. None of us did.

“Papa,” I said, my voice barely a whisper. It felt rusty from disuse.

He looked up, his smile gentle, though his eyes were clouded with worry. “Selena child. You’re back.”

Mama came in from the back room, wiping her hands on her apron. Juliet Veridian. She was still beautiful, even with the lines of worry etched around her honey brown eyes. eyes just like mine. She’d been through hell, I knew. Old whispers, things I wasn’t supposed to understand, about the former Alpha, Vorlag.

A monster, they said. He’d been obsessed with her.

That’s how I got my older brother, Rhys.

Or half brother, really. Vorlag’s son. Papa had taken Mama in, taken Rhys in, loved them both without question.

“What is it dear?” Mama asked, her voice soft.

“Wesly, from the Alpha’s guard,” I managed. “He said... Alpha Henry wants to see Papa. About contributions.”

Papa sighed, the sound heavy. He put down his carving. “Again? We just gave them half our winter stores last month!“

“They’re never satisfied, Alfred,” Mama said, her hand resting on his shoulder. There was a bitterness in her tone she rarely let show. “Especially not with us.”

“I’ll go,” Papa said, pushing himself up. “Best not to keep the Alpha waiting.”