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“Shit, Eve. Are you ok?”
I nod, holding my hand under the cool water—my fingertips are blistered. Zoe uses the dish towel to pick up the tray, placing it on the stove. After discarding the ruined grilled cheese, she uses the broom to smack the fire alarm, jabbing the button and cutting off its deafening noise.
“Let me see,” Zoe says, looking around me at my burned hand.
“It's fine; it'll heal,” I tell her, and she clicks her tongue.
“You've been distracted all afternoon. What's going on with you today?”
I glance at the small dining table in our cramped, tiny kitchen. Both kids have gone back to their drawings and are no longer paying attention to us.
“He came by again today,” I tell her, and Zoe sighs before running her fingers through her hair. I know she worries I'll turn out like Valarie—she and Macey have expressed multiple times they want me to mate with another rogue to ensure I don't die, but other men don't attract me in the slightest. I'd been content on my own; I like my independence and don't need a mate to be whole. However, I can’t deny how the bond is affecting me.
“You need to figure something out; last night, you couldn't sleep and were pacing all night, and now you're burning yourself. Go for a run. Val always told you to run it off. Seeing him always weakened her. The more you see him, the more fragile you'll become,” Zoe says, chewing her thumbnail and watching me nervously.
Zoe’s right; I remember every time that Alpha came to visit Valarie, she would be out of it for days. We would have to force her out of bed. Yet, that couldn't be happening to me. Not yet, surely. Valarie lasted decades before her deterioration got so bad that it killed her. The memory makes me shudder.
“Go, you know you should. When was the last time you even shifted?”
I shrug, knowing she’s right. And it had been well and truly over a month.
I hate shifting. It's a constant reminder of what has become of me. Each time, my wolf side becomes smaller and weaker. Yet, if I don't shift, my mental state will start to deteriorate along with my body. When she was still able, Valarie told me that shifting helped ward off the effects of the bond.
Gosh, how I miss that woman. She was one-of-a-kind and one of the best women I've ever had the pleasure of meeting. She would have been a wonderful grandmother had she gotten the chance to live longer. One thing I will never forgive Alpha Kalen for—he killed her. I just have to make sure his son doesn't make history repeat itself.
Valen won't kill me, and he won't get my son; I will make sure of it.
“Go. You can tell me about it later when the kids are in bed,” says Zoe. I nod, looking over at them. Valarian's amber eyes stare down at his paper as he works on his picture, concentrating hard, his tongue poking out the corner.
Zoe sets a glass of juice on the table beside him and he stares at it. His lips purse while his brows furrow as he glares at it before moving it onto the coaster. He then does the same with Casey's. Beside him, his pencils are all straight in a row, set perfectly, and even sharpened to the same length. Meanwhile, Casey's is in disarray, and I can see his fingers twitching to straighten them for her.
“Sorry, Valarian, I forgot,” Zoe laughs softly before ruffling his thick, dark hair. He looks like his father, a spitting image, and I sometimes notice this particular stare. It's clear there's power in him—he already has a particular atmosphere about him. He's an Alpha in the making, and I'm not sure it will remain hidden. One day, someone will notice he isn't like other rogues. He was born from Alpha parents. Even though I no longer have an aura, he's strong and dominant.
His personality is quite intense for a child. Casey is like any child; though she looks like Zoe, I can see her father in her too. Casey has his lighter blonde hair and brown eyes, though her soft facial features and her nose she gets from her mother.
“Eve, go. The kids are fine,” Zoe tells me, and I nod. I feel like I'm failing my son—I hardly have spare time, and I hate spending it away from him when I do. I feel so spread thin, always racing around the hotel and lacking the energy to function by the afternoon, always working, building our village, and his future.
I kiss Valarian on the cheek as I walk around the table to grab my sneakers.
“Can I come?” Valarian asks, and my heart thumps at the thought. He loves watching me shift, not realizing how much weaker I am than a regular werewolf. How was he to know when I am the only one he's seen? But lately, the reserve hasn't been safe.
A few forsaken have come into the city recently—it has been unusual. Though the city's border patrols quickly put them down, it made me nervous about taking my son out there. Since the last encounter was reported, I haven't been out after a group of rogues was attacked.
The packs couldn't care less for rogues, which only makes us more nervous. They've tightened patrols, but not for us; it's no good for anyone in the city if the forsaken get in. Another thing I find odd is the reports of forsaken wolves going missing. Some that stuck close to the city borders and turned feral have suddenly vanished. Those that keep monitoring them haven't seen them.
One thing this city is good at is talking. Rumor spread, yet the missing forsaken wolves are never mentioned in the news. It's like they don't exist. But I know they exist, we've all heard the whispers. Yet, no warning has been given to us rogues to steer clear of the reserve.
Those living in packs were given alternative options for going on runs and extra patrols. None of those options were offered to us. The rogue community is small, so when rogues or forsaken go missing, we know; not that the city cares.
With eleven missing in the last year and numerous forsaken sightings—and three forsaken also vanished—it makes no sense that it's not on the news. It's the first time this many have gone missing. The world is going mad, and it scares me
One of the missing rogues was a cleaner here at the hotel. She has twin girls. Those poor girls. Luckily, their grandmother took them in, and we've still been paying her wage and will continue to do so, despite her missing. We will keep on helping her mother with the twins; we won't forget her.
“Can I come?” Valarian asks.
“Not today, sweetie. Next time, I promise,” I tell him, and Valarian pouts.
“None of that; your mother has her reasons,” Zoe scolds when he glares at the table and slams his pencil down.
