Chapter Eight

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before anyone says anything...yes this chapter is late....and yes i am sorry ;-P

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"You must have a million questions for me." Azrael remarked as we walked along a particularly long hallway with several doors and paintings adorning the wall.

He wasn't wrong but in that moment, I had more questions for myself and my behavior seconds ago. So, I stayed silent despite our close proximity.

Azrael let out a soft sigh as he glanced down at me with an unreadable expression across his features. "Alright," he ran his thumb across the knuckles of my significantly smaller hand that was intertwined with his still. "Then I have a million questions for you."

We continued to walk, I held in a nervous breath as I waited for the incoming barrage of questions no doubt heading my way.

"Let's start with the basics." He mused lowly, "Where are you from? No one from our pack could recognize or identify your friends. Curious, isn't it,"

I practically audibly gulped, that didn't seem like a basic question to me in the slightest. "Um..."

Hope Pack has disappeared from the history and minds of any werewolf hundreds of years ago, during the establishment of our pack. We faded out of memory and thought as we reclused ourselves from the surrounding werewolf communities. My father especially has aided with the seclusion by building the wall around our pack. It an insurance policy of sorts, securing that no one would stumble into our pack and ask questions.

Which left me with the difficult decision on how to answer the man beside me, my mate.

While lying seemed like the easiest option, I'm certain an alpha wolf would have no trouble in confirming my story from other packs and their own respective alphas. Also, they already knew I was magical, they could be going through the lists of all the old packs who had been known for possessing magic, right this moment. So was their any other option for me,

I could tell the truth, it's what any good mate would do but at what cost for my honesty.

"I'm a rogue," I suddenly blurt out. I wanted to smack myself on the forehead, what an impulsive and foolish answer.

Azrael paused walking with me down the hallway, "You are a rogue?" I nodded once and he instantly his face cracked into a Cheshire smile. "You're telling me that those wolves, your friends from earlier, were also all rogues?"

"That's funny," Azrael remarked sardonically, "Because when our scouts tracked you and your friends, they reported the scent of an alpha wolf on you specifically."

My eyes widened as I nodded once more and gently slipped my hand out of Azrael's to nervously rub the side of my arm.

Everything about his features and demeanor screamed that he didn't believe me and that Azrael was seeing right through me. "A bunch of pack-less rogues managed to organize a coordinated attack on our pack—one of the strongest in the werewolf community? Not just that, a rogue wolf was in contact with an alpha and survived the encounter? How do you explain that away?"

"We...we're just a very close knit group of talented wolves." I shrugged anxiously, "It isn't crazy to think that rogue wolves would link up and form their own little groups for survival, in fact, it makes sense even."

"And the alpha scent?", He queried one last time almost as if he knew I didn't have a way to explain that away. Azrael shook his head and continued walked down the hall, leaving me to trail after him once more. "I'm going to find out, you know. Eventually the truth will come out, one way or another."

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