Royally Rogue

Rebellion

Xander

I spent 30 fucking minutes trying to tie that letter to that dumb birds' toothpick leg.

AND there was bird poop all over my office!

It was worth it. Sighed my wolf with joy.

My die-hard romantic so-called-beast had been going crazy ever since he realized I wasn't making plans to see Arabella again.

As soon as I got onto pack lands, he took over and called Grace, my beta, ordering her to find me a bird that could deliver letters. Within the hour, he had written a letter and sent it off, leaving me to clean the fucking mess.

He was pissed that I had given up already but after a lot of deliberation... I realized that all the things I wanted to do with her, our future together, it wouldn't work out.

She didn't know me, yet she asked me to join her pack. I mean that's understandable, it was the mate bond at work, but we were from two different worlds. Plus, I had my wolf now and that's all I needed. If I were to go back, I could be killed or tracked back to my pack, and I wouldn't risk their safety for my selfish and lustful wishes.

Oh but the pull was intense, so insanely strong that I had to blare music on my way back to stop thinking about her plush pink lips, fair skin, glowing white hair, mesmerizing icy blue eyes, soft shoulders, that small furrow of her brow, and-

I scowled and pushed myself to sit up in my chair, snagging a paper from the tall stack on my mahogany desk. I would force myself to work and concentrate on other things that didn't make my pants feel tight or twist up my stomach.

This match wasn't made in heaven, it wasn't sweet and simple. It wouldn't work.

But no matter how hard I stared that the blank contract, I couldn't focus.

You've been staring at it for 20 seconds. My wolf snickered, knowing he was winning the internal battle.

I slammed fist onto the table in anger, still gripping the paper. Distancing myself from her was probably going to be the hardest thing I will ever do, and the beast inside wasn't helping.

The flimsy paper in my hand cut me as I jerked at the sound of my door being flung open.

"Ah!" I hissed, looking down at the blood beading out of the cut. I popped it in my mouth for a hot second, then examined it to see the skin already healed. But damn, maybe having a wolf, even if it is annoying as hell, had its benefits.

"Alpha!" Grace, my beta barked, barging into my office.

The traditional packs did not recognize me as an Alpha, just as a disgraceful King. Nobody in my pack was supposed to have status because we all started off as rogues. We were created from a group of scavengers.

What others fail to realize is all wolves had to unite at some point and were lonely as well. The Rogue Nation was just a new pack, new blood.

Also, I was apparently unworthy of my position and title because I had no Alphas blood in me.

Well, they and their idiotic traditional ways are wrong.

You don't need Alpha's blood to be a good leader, the strength to do so develops over time and the decisions you make determine your ability to be an Alpha. Sure, a pristine bloodline helped, but if an Omega was superior strategically, why the hell not put him in the grand council or as a Beta? Brute strength wasn't always the answer.