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The Rogue's Reluctant Mate
Huling Na-update : 2025-07-19
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“I have nothing else,” I continued, my voice gaining a desperate strength. “So I offer myself. My loyalty. My.... my body. Whatever you want from me. Just...just help me make them pay. Help me destroy them.” Then, slowly, a smirk touched his lips. It wasn’t a kind smile. It was cold, calculating, and utterly terrifying. It sent a chill down my spine ~ He is no savior, just a cold, calculating rogue with a history of violence and eyes that blaze gold in the shift. She is the Omega who unexpectedly became his fated mate, carrying the weight of murdered kin and a desperate need for vengeance. He offers her the strength she craves, but his methods are brutal, his heart seemingly encased in ice. Amidst the blood and shadows, can fleeting, rare moments of raw connection forge something real, or is a monster forever bound to his nature?
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1 - Blank Face
SELENA
_____ 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.”Pinakabagong kabanata
The Rogue's Reluctant Mate 54 - Our Image
A supply convoy ambushed, its guards vanished without a trace. Small acts of sabotage, creating chaos, sowing fear among Henry’s loyalists. Austin was a master at psychological warfare, dismantling Henry’s power base one terrified whisper, one “unfortunate accident” at a time. One evening, he returned to our cave later than usual. He looked. tired. A rare sight. There was a fresh scratch on his cheekbone, already healing. “Rough night?” I asked, handing him a waterskin. He took a long drink, then wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Let’s just say one of Valerius’s lieutenants won’t be reporting for duty tomorrow.” He met my gaze, and for a moment, I saw a flicker of something raw, something ancient and predatory in his eyes. “The fear is spreading, Freckles. They’re starting to feel the noose tighten.” “Good,” I said, my own cold satisfaction mirroring his. “Lisa has made contact with a few more Omegas. They’re scared, but they’re willing to help. They’re tired of living
Huling Na-update : 2025-07-19The Rogue's Reluctant Mate 53 - Past Self
The hours until evening crawled by .I moved through the Omega sector, my old stomping grounds. The fear and despair were palpable, thicker than the ever-present dampness. I saw faces I remembered – old Nina, who used to give me sweet berries, now looked frail and broken.Young ones, their eyes already dull with hopelessness. And Dante....I saw Dante scurrying through a passageway, his face pale and haunted. He didn’t see me. Good. His fear was a tool I’d use later. I listened. To the hushed whispers in the food lines. To the muttered complaints in the mending caves.the discontent was there, a simmering pot threatening to boil over. But so was the fear. Henry and Valerius had a tight grip. As dusk settled, casting the cavern city into even deeper shadow, I made my way to the moss garden. It was as Lisa had described , overgrown, a little sad, but still holding a whisper of its former peace. She was already there, a small, anxious figure huddled on a stone bench. “Thank you for com
Huling Na-update : 2025-07-18The Rogue's Reluctant Mate 52 - Camouflage
The hiding spot Austin had secured for us was a damp, forgotten storage cave carved deep into the lower levels of the pack’s warren, not far from the Omega sector I knew so well. It smelled of old roots and desperation. It wasn’t the luxurious prison of his mansion, but it felt more real. More like the precipice of a war. We’d been here two days now, moving only under the deepest cover of night, Austin vanishing for hours at a time to meet with his contacts or, as he vaguely put it, ‘rearrange some of Henry’s furniture’ I knew that meant something far more sinister. “You’re thinking too loud, Freckles,” Austin’s voice rumbled from the shadows near the cave entrance. He’d been gone most of the previous night, and the faint, metallic scent of old blood clung to him, quickly masked by the earthy smell of the cave. He never elaborated on where he went or what he did, and I never asked. Our bargain was clear : he handled the overt destruction; I handled the subtle infiltration. “Jus
Huling Na-update : 2025-07-16The Rogue's Reluctant Mate 51 - Secrets
His eyes widened almost imperceptibly. He knew. He knew I wasn’t just some random Omega. He didn’t recognize my face, but something in my voice, in my eyes, in the way I said his name.... it struck a chord of fear. “I...I don’t know what you mean,” he stammered, his gaze darting around nervously. “Oh, I think you do,” I purred, taking a step closer. My smile didn’t waver. “I think you remember every knot you tied, every stone you hefted. Details, Dante. Details matter, don’t they?” I let my gaze drop to his hands, then back to his terrified face. “And I have a very, very good memory for details.” He was pale now, trembling slightly. He knew. He might not know WHO I was, but he knew I was someone who remembered his specific cruelties. “The river....it gives back its secrets sometimes, doesn’t it?” I continued, my voice a silken threat. “And those secrets can be quite vengeful.” I leaned in a little closer, my smile widening, becoming almost beatific. Psychotic, Austin might have c
Huling Na-update : 2025-07-07The Rogue's Reluctant Mate 50 - Personal
A wave of grief, so sharp it almost buckled my knees, washed over me. It looked even smaller, more dilapidated than I remembered. The windows were dark, empty. A place of ghosts. Of pain. “Selena?” Austin’s voice was soft beside me. He’d felt it, of course. The bond. “It’s...nothing,” I choked out, turning away from the sight. I couldn’t look at it. Not yet. “It’s not nothing ” he said, his hand briefly touching my arm. “It’s a reminder of why we’re here.” His gentleness, that unexpected softness, it almost broke me. But I couldn’t break. Not now. I took a deep breath, pushing the grief down, letting the cold rage surface. “You’re right. It’s a reminder.” We moved on, deeper into the warren of tunnels and dwellings. The air here was thicker, staler, heavy with the scent of fear and oppression. I could feel the eyes on us, unseen watchers in the shadows. The pack was on edge. “There,” Austin said, nodding towards a dimly lit alcove where a lone figure was sweeping, his movements
Huling Na-update : 2025-07-03The Rogue's Reluctant Mate 49 - My Old Home
He led the way down into the valley, the roar of the falls growing louder, drowning out all other sound. The air was thick with mist, clinging to us, soaking our clothes. We reached the base of the falls, a maelstrom of churning water and deafening noise. “The entrance is behind the main cascade, about halfway up.” Austin yelled over the roar. “There’s a ledge, usually slick with moss. We’ll need to climb. The spray will cover our scent, mostly.” Climbing the wet, slippery rocks beside a thundering waterfall was terrifying. My fingers, raw and aching, scrabbled for purchase. The spray blinded me, the noise disoriented me. But Austin was there, a dark shape just ahead, his presence a strange sort of reassurance. He moved with a confidence that bordered on arrogance, as if daring the elements to defy him. He found the ledge, a narrow, treacherous path hidden behind the curtain of water. It led into a dark, damp tunnel that smelled of wet rock and something wolf. The scent was strong
Huling Na-update : 2025-06-28
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