Caught Between Them

My head throbbed like a bass playing on repeat inside my skull. Fantastic. Just what I needed after a night that felt like a horror movie with extra creepy whispers. “Ugh,” I groaned, flopping back onto the bed. Every move felt like I was wrestling a grumpy bear.

Running was the last thing I wanted to do, but sometimes fresh air did the trick better than any drug my grandma swore by. After a quick change into clothes that wouldn’t mind getting a little snagged on branches, I stumbled outside.

The cool morning air slapped me awake, momentarily pushing the throbbing in my head to the background. Inhaling deeply, I sighed. This felt like a good time to be in wolf form and wander the woods and clear my head. I focused on the familiar shift. Bones popped, fur whooshed in, and the world sharpened into focus through golden eyes. Now that was the good stuff. As a wolf, the headache became a dull afterthought, easily ignored.

I loped through the trees, the wind whipping through my fur like a giant dog brush. I didn’t catch the change in the air until it hit me like a stink bomb. Rogues. Three pairs of glowing eyes emerged from the trees, looking like they hadn’t seen a decent meal in a week.

“Great,” I growled, dropping into a low crouch. Not exactly the relaxing morning jog I had envisioned. The lead rogue, a scarred-up beast with a bad case of mange, lunged with a snarl that could curdle milk.Text content © NôvelDrama.Org.

My training kicked in dodge, swat, bite. But there were three of them, and pack rules didn’t exactly translate well to rogue brawls. One particularly sneaky rogue managed to sink its teeth into my shoulder, sending a jolt of pain shooting through me. It shoved me with the force of a runaway moose, sending me crashing into a tree.

Dazed, I sprawled there, tasting blood. Was this it? Was this how I ended, as a chew toy for rogue wolves?

Suddenly, a blur of brown fur erupted from the trees Sage, but different. This Sage was a wolf, all sleek muscle and amber eyes. Together, we fought back. Her movements were a deadly dance, honed by who-knows-how-many battles.

We took the rogues down. One whimpered and bolted, the other lay unmoving. We stood there, panting, blood-smeared, a tense silence hanging in the air thicker than the scent of pine.

My wolf let out a low growl, a warning. Sage’s amber eyes gleamed, unreadable. Then, in a flash, she was gone, leaving me with a mouthful of questions and a throbbing shoulder. Shifting back was a welcome relief, even though the pain in my shoulder flared anew. Gingerly, I made my way back toward the pack house, wincing with each step.

Reaching my room, I collapsed onto the bed, feeling utterly defeated and nude. It hadn’t been a fight, it had been a desperate scramble for survival. Had it not been for Sage… but then again, what was Sage even doing out there so early?

A knock on the door startled me. “Amelia?” came Gwen’s voice. “You alright in there? I thought I heard…”

“Come in!” I called out, relieved for the distraction.

Gwen’s face creased with concern as she entered the room. “Whoa, what happened? You look like you went five rounds with a bear.”

I winced as I pointed at my shoulder. “Rogue run-in. Not my finest moment.”

A low whistle escaped Gwen’s lips. “Rogues this close to the pack territory? Logan’s gonna be pissed.”

She bustled around the room, gathering supplies. “Alright, sit still. Let’s see what we’re working with here.”

As Gwen cleaned and bandaged my wound, I recounted the fight, leaving out the surprise intervention from Sage. It wasn’t the right time to drop that bombshell, not yet.

“Three rogues?” Gwen whistled again. “You’re lucky you got out of there. Are you sure that’s all that happened? Any scratches, bites besides the shoulder?”

“No,” I lied, wincing a little as she pressed the bandage tighter. “Just this one.”

Gwen gave me a skeptical look, but didn’t push it. “Alright, well, keep an eye on it. If it starts to get red or swollen, come see me immediately.”

“Thanks, Gwen,” I said, meaning it. She was one of the few people in the pack I could truly trust, and her concern warmed me from the inside out.

After Gwen left, I lay back on the bed, my gaze drifting towards the window. The sunlight seemed to mock my mood and it felt suddenly so harsh How could things have gotten so complicated so quickly? The rogues, the near-death experience… and then there was Sage.

Suddenly, memories of the previous night flooded back her chilling threat, about my feelings for Brock. It all clicked into place, forming a picture I didn’t like one bit.

Sage was playing a game, a twisted, manipulative game. She knew about my secret feelings for Brock, about Logan’s… arrangement. And she was using that knowledge to keep me on a leash, to force me to do her bidding.

But what did she want? Why was she so invested in keeping my secret? Was it simply about power, about having control over the future Luna? Or was there something more, something deeper at play?

A knot of unease tightened in my stomach. The morning run had been meant to clear my head, but now I felt more lost than ever. One thing was clear, though I couldn’t trust Sage. Not one bit.

I needed to talk to someone, to confide in someone. But who? Logan wouldn’t believe me, not without concrete proof and that could lead to revealing my feelings for Brock. In fact I ask getting tired of hiding it, if not that Brock commanded it, I would have told him I was not ready for this Luna mate thing. Brock was my real mate, and no one is taking him from me.