I am Rogue [Book 1]

Chapter 1

Chapter 1:

The thud of the silver blade I had just released into the tree fifteen feet away brought a smile to my slightly chapped lips, as it had been doing each time I let the cold metal fly towards its mark. Already I could tell it was going to be an interesting day from the rush of activity that had been taking place when I had crawled from my beat-up old tent to great and eat. I'd barely gotten through my bowl of rice porridge before the scouts came rushing towards our mighty leader's tent with excited expressions.

Smirking, I wondered if Nyx would be angry I hadn't joined in on the little powwow he was currently having. A bit sadistic, to wish his anger on me, I know, but the man was too adorable when his well-shaped jaw clenched and his breathtaking golden chocolate eyes narrowed. Did he know his nose would scrunch ever slightly?

Another thud came to my ears just as fallen leaves crackled behind me, alerting me that someone was attempting to sneak up, and rather poorly at that. Dropping the blade I had just picked up to throw, I waited only a few seconds before pivoting on my left heel and slamming my right foot into the large broad chest of my fellow werewolf.

"God damned leaves," Nyx "wheezed" out, clutching his chest in mock hurt, though I knew otherwise.

"Yes, because the leaves are at fault for me hearing you coming." Snickering, I leaned down to jerk the man up to his feet only to find myself face first in a slightly damp and musk-scented cotton shirt.

"Ah, but I would hate to get skewered," Nyx chuckled, the vibration in his chest rolling through me so hard my teeth almost chattered.

"Whatever you big oaf," I grumbled, trying not to smile as I punched him in the chest and pushed off with my other hand, rocking me backwards onto my ass in the grass. Glancing up, as even sitting, Nyx seemed to appear like a giant to me, I raised an eyebrow. "Well don't you seem in a good mood. And here I was hopping you'd stalk towards me with that pretty scowl of yours."

Rolling his eyes, Nyx sighed a moment before regaining that brilliant smile of his. Even with the three jagged scars that ran down from his right eyebrow to his jaw, one going through the right side of his full lips, no one could deny that Nyx was a looker. What with his almost ebony shaded flesh and his shoulder length tightly braided and beaded hair, he could be considered a dark version of the Greek god Adonis.

"Hate to break it to you, babe, but I'm all smiles today. Word on the grapevine is that the Alpha of the Winter Falls pack just had a baby boy. He's throwing a huge celebration party over it."

Frowning, I glanced at the scars on Nyx's face in thought. The Winter Falls pack wasn't the largest, but their territory did stretch across Minnesota. Personally, I didn't see how this was anything special, after all, that alpha already had four children so what was one more?

"What makes this one so special when he already has four whelps?"

The smile left Nyx's face suddenly, and I got a bad feeling I wasn't going to like what he had to say about this sudden celebration. In fact, I think I was beginning to understand without him even saying anything, the familiar feeling of unease creeping up my spine.

"It's the Luna's first child, isn't it? That's why the grand celebration, why the excitement for that pack. He doesn't need his bastard children anymore now that his Luna has finally gone through a whole pregnancy and delivered him a son and heir to his family position."

"Yeah," Nyx's face went hard. "Word is, he is planning to get rid of those bastard children too, as a present to his Luna. Already signed the paper work to have them shipped off to other packs to take up omega status."

My fingers curled and I felt my nails lengthen into claws, biting into the cold earth below them. That bastard was just going to throw his children, his own flesh and blood away, not that he no longer needed them as a back-up. When his wife couldn't bare him any children for the longest time because she couldn't control herself well enough to make it to term, they had been important and acknowledged by that pack, they weren't locked away as a dirty secret or cast out of the pack homes and forced to the outskirts of the community.

Not like I had been.

Before the memories could flood my mind, Nyx began talking, drawing my attention back to him.

"Look, I know this isn't something you like because of your own past, but instead of letting your past eat at you, you should harness that pain and anger for the raid."

Now that caught my attention. We were going on a raid? "What raid?"

Nyx was back to smiling again, all joyful and earnest. "Security will be tight at the pack compound - in the beginning of the party celebration, however we all know what happens when werewolves are offered an open bar and barbecue. Near the end they will all be so tired and out of their minds drunk it will be easy to slip in, and we are slipping in. We're going for the alpha's children, the four being shipped off to different packs to live a life of servitude."

"I can't remember their details, does anyone have current information on them?"

"Yeah, Cold got the details and even managed pictures for us."

"Go Cold, she is a sneaky little wolf to manage all that and not get caught."

"She isn't sneaky, she's just, well, cold."

This time, I smirked. Nyx was right. Cold had gotten her name because of her ability to turn everything off to get the job done. Anger, love, kindness, fear - she turned anything that could get in the way off and became a walking snowstorm, sneaking up and getting what she needed before anyone had time to notice or prepare for her coming.

Everyone who came to the pack got a new name, a new identity, and a new start. They got to experience what a pack really was all about, to feel the love and welcoming, the understanding. Even Nyx's name wasn't the one he was born with, but the one he chose for himself. Why he chose it, no one knows, not even me, but it suits him more than anything I could ever imagine he was called before.

As for me? Well, I chose my own name, my own identity. Picking up the discarded silver blade, I smiled at the idea of the upcoming raid and threw it at the tree with the others, a loud crack followed by the unmistakable snap of a tree going to ground making me yell, "Timber!"

My name is Aim, and I never miss my mark.

[Image of Aim in Media]