Rogue

2. From Stalemate To Slaughterhouse

They weren't making much progress and Stephanie couldn't bring herself to care. She couldn't manage to drag much air into her aching lungs, and even if she'd been able to think past the screaming agony of her ribs her nose- stuffed up with blood- wouldn't have helped. As it was, putting one foot in front of the other was a miracle all on its own.

Their rag tag group would have made quite the sight tramping through the forest as they were. Isa headed up the pack, shoulders rigid, hands banded in front like all the others except the silent, traumatised little boy. Her two pack mates flanked her, dogged in their determination not to lag behind. Stephanie saw it for what it was: a bid to show no weakness. She didn't think that Isa was the type of Alpha to tolerate stragglers if she didn't have to.

The young boy had obviously been able to sense it because he kept glancing furtively back at Stephanie, as if he was worried that she was the weakest link, the one who would befall an unfortunate end. Whether that was by Isa's hand or the circumstances themselves or something else entirely, Stephanie didn't suspect he knew. And in all honesty she didn't blame him for thinking it.

While Liam was clearly hurting, he was keeping up easily with the three facility wolves. His left arm was tucked protectively at his chest and he walked with a slight hitch in his step, but his body language didn't scream agony. It was just the rounding of defeat in his shoulders that gave him away. By contrast- well, Stephanie was worse for wear to say the least. Her head thumped in time with every fluttering heartbeat and the prospect of walking another meter felt like a punishment. She couldn't keep this up forever. Hell, she couldn't even keep this up for another mile. It wasn't even an option.

Needless to say, the young boy's tense looks over his shoulder at her were just confirming what she already knew: Stephanie would not make it out of this forest on her own steam. Judging by Isa's quickening stride and impatient huffs up ahead, she wasn't going to put up with their meandering pace for much longer.

Stephanie let her head hang, closed her eyes and pushed herself a little harder. Her lungs felt cramped with the short, shallow breaths she was taking and her heart was hammering along to make up for it, but she would try for as long as she could. Being left behind was not an option she was willing to take. If she laid down now she didn't know what her chances of getting back up again were.

"Do you even know where we're headed, great leader?" Liam snarked up ahead.

Stephanie didn't even have to look to know that Isa's upper lip had curled up, even if only momentarily.

"No, but if you have any idea where we are or have any better ideas then feel free to say so, boy wonder," she shot back breezily.

"You do realise how stupid it is to just wander around without a plan? We could be going anywhere."

"Oh what do you know? That did occur to me actually," she snarled. "But again, I hear no better ideas coming from that handsome head of yours, do I? I thought America's Sweetheart was supposed to be sweet as pie, not a spoiled little brat."

Stephanie knew that had to have hit a nerve with Liam from the way the muscles in his back drew together, pulling taut like a wire.

"Leave it," Stephanie snapped. "The pair of you. Bickering like- like children- it won't- help us."

Five sets of eyes found her uneasily. She hadn't the breath to make it through a whole sentence, and she wheezed on every one. It did her no favours to accentuate her weaknesses so she straightened up as much as she could. Isa dismissed her immediately with a roll of her eyes.

"Do you still think you're the one in control of this situation, pup?" she sneered. "Shut up and try to keep up, would you?"

"Your mistake will always be... underestimating me... Isa."