Lucille pov
The offer Declan had made kept circling in my head. It was an okay deal. I could see myself living in a cute, secluded cottage, just surviving on my own. And whenever I needed something, I wouldn't have to steal it—I could go into the pack and get food...
I wouldn't have to deal with my family or pack business, and if there were any intruders, I'd still have an excuse to fight. Especially if they were rogues. I could easily take them down.
There was just one small problem...
I had to behave in this camp and work my way up to the highest-ranking uniform—purple. I kept forgetting the exact order, so let me remind myself: it starts with gray, then orange, then red, blue, and finally purple.
If you manage to reach purple, it means you're either fit to return to pack life or, in my case, you get that cute, secluded cottage.
First thing after I was out of the holding area, I went straight to the cafeteria to grab something to eat. It wasn't the most enjoyable meal with everyone staring at me. I probably looked like I was about to snap and put my hand through someone's chest or something... Oh, wait...
I still hadn't gotten my claws back. I think it was my defense mechanism flaring up—must've been because I felt so damn threatened.
It was fun, though, walking past the training field with those poles and seeing Geoff struggle under the sun. Couldn't help but stick my tongue out at him. He was lucky to even be alive.
My lunch was a decent sandwich—melted cheese and ham. Also, an apple, some chocolate milk, and a bottle of water to wash it down. I didn't really recognize anyone fun, most of them were higher-ranking, so I ended up sitting alone.
Eventually, I was interrupted by what sounded like a dying whale or something. I turned and saw Sam rushing toward me, fat tears streaming down his face.
"Luce!" He screamed across the cafeteria, catching the attention of pretty much everyone in the room.
Without any warning, he jumped on me and wrapped me in a tight hug while bawling his eyes out. I tried to shush him, but I couldn't help but laugh.
"Don't you ever fight again!" He begged, still clinging to me.
"I can't. Or I'm dead..." I joked.
"I don't think Sam would forgive you again," Belle laughed, strolling over to us. "He was a wreck the past two days."
I cooed at him as he smothered me, of course, until I decided it was enough.
"Thanks for stopping me, Sam," I muttered.
His eyes widened in confusion. "What?"
"Did you just thank me?" He started chuckling. "I don't know what Big Alpha did to you, but man, he can go down on you more often." He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.
I punched him in the shoulder. "I didn't let him go down on me, weirdo!"
"Why not?" Belle chimed in. "He's your mate, plus he's so fucking—"
I cut her off with a punch to her arm.
"Ouch! You're feral," she sneered.
"Stop idolizing him, okay? We just talked, that's it. I'm not Luna material."
"Why not?" Sam asked, genuinely curious. "You've got leader vibes."
I shrugged, the feeling of it just not sitting right with me. Luna's are supposed to be caring, cute, sweet—and I was everything but that. "I just don't fit the mold, okay?"
YOU ARE READING
Heart of a rogue
WerewolfThe caged bird sings with a fearful trill, of things unknown, but longed for still. And her tune is heard on the distant hill, for the caged bird sings for freedom. His lips hovered just above mine, close enough to make my senses blur. All I could t...