Cronan is angry. Angry that after years of waiting, he's mated to the one wolf he never wanted.
Fen is stuck. Stuck in a state of purgatory that he doesn't know how to escape from.
After learning of his mate's crimes, Cronan never expected to see h...
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"The time I spent in The Rogue's Den isn't something I like to look back on often," I admitted to Cronan as he took a seat on my bed.
We had just finished cleaning and now I was honoring my end of our agreement—I was telling him about the den and I was a little worried if I was being honest.
Cronan leaned back, watching me with an expression that was hard to read. "You don't have to tell me if you're not ready," he said softly, though I could see the curiosity flicker in his eyes. He wanted to know, but he wasn't going to push.
"No, I promised. You deserve to know, especially if we're... moving forward."
Cronan nodded, waiting patiently.
"The Rogue's Den," I began, trying to gather my thoughts, "it's not a place for the weak, and that includes emotionally. You either learn to adapt to the darkness or you get swallowed by it. You know as well as I do that as pack wolves, or former ones, we were taught the den is the worst place to end up. I always kind of thought it was an exaggeration, you know? Surely, it couldn't have been that bad. Then I went there."
"What...what was it like?"
"It was... harsh. Brutal, even. The Rogue's Den wasn't just about surviving physically, it was about losing parts of yourself to keep going. You know how packs have structure, order, and at least some sense of loyalty? The Den had none of that."
Cronan remained quiet, his eyes searching my face as I spoke.
"Imagine a place where everyone's out for themselves. Trust doesn't exist. You can't sleep without one eye open, you can't talk without thinking of every possible way your words could be twisted against you. It's filled with the desperate, the corrupt, and the lost, and that atmosphere just... it changes you. It makes you cold. Detached." I leaned back against the headboard. "When I arrived at the den, I was in a terrible mental state. Everything that happened with my pack and Eli was fresh on my mind. To be honest with you, I was a fucking mess. I didn't sleep, I didn't eat, I didn't talk...I just sat there for days on end."
Cronan frowned, the concern in his blue eyes giving way to sympathy. If it was anyone else, I would've been bothered by the sight but it wasn't anyone else.
"I was on a fast track to mental and physical degeneration and to make matters worse, not long after my arrival, a hunter raid occurred. Their mission was a simple one: kill as many werewolves as possible. Everyone was running for their lives, fighting for survival, and me? I was laying on the ground like a fucking sitting duck. I think part of me truly thought if I just stayed there, it would all end. That the pain, the guilt, the confusion... it would stop." I paused, feeling my throat tighten as the memories resurfaced. "A hunter saw me, pointed his gun at me, and I still didn't move. The gun went off and I waited for some kind of sign that I'd gotten hit or something, but as the Goddess would have it, someone shoved me out of the way."
