Rogue

Part One

Edit 10/26/24

Rouge

Seventeen Years Ago

It wasn't necessarily the wrong time for his concoction but at the same time it really was not an appropriate time. The men in front of him were limping, blood seemed to be covering every part of their bodies, tears streaming down their cheeks and he could almost hear their soft cries.

He stayed hidden within the trees, almost praying to whoever might be up in the stars, that they wouldn't be able to sniff him out. He isn't the proper age for him to hide his scent, although he had been training for this exact moment - doesn't mean it will work.

His eyes fixated on the men as they finally reached their camp, practically fumbling down next to their fire pit, he could hear the soft crackling of the logs as the fire grew brighter. He took a deep breath as his grip tightened around the glass bottle in his hand, this was it. It was just them and him; nobody is around for miles; this really was the right moment.

He mentally shook his head, clearing all the negative thoughts from his mind, as his feet started moving closer and closer to them.

"Oh, shit," He mumbled under his breath as the men reached for their weapons, too exhausted to shift, and too defeated to care.

"Not another step," The guy in the middle snarled, his weapon aimed at him.

"I don't mean to intrude," He held his hands up, surrendering to them; he needed to gain their trust or at least attempt too.

The one to the left of him scowled at him, "What's that," He nodded, "In your hand?"

"This?" He grinned, "This is what I wanted to show you. It's a new drink that I-" He paused, should he be completely honest with them? What if he tells them, and they laugh in his face, blowing him off, not wanting to even give him a chance! He met their eyes, holding them for a minute, "It's a drink that will help you win."

The doubt was clear in their eyes as they continued to stare at him. He felt himself losing his confidence. The war between the lycans and the wolves had been going on for months with no hope. He personally didn't have anything against the other species. He just couldn't understand how they were winning.

"I – I" The guy in the middle hesitated.

"Why not," The one to his left shrugged, making his way closer, his weapon still aimed at him.

"If I die, they're going to shoot you," He stated, eyeing the drink, "Ah hell."

He watched closely as the man emptied the bottle, some of the liquid running down his chin, as the man finished the drink he put his weapon down.

Finally, he thought to himself.

"I'm Andre," He held out his hand, "What does this drink do exactly?"

"Darrel," He grinned, pleased with himself, "It's basically a steroid but for lycans. It will have no effect on humans – I have tested it."

The other two men still had their weapons on him, but Darrel could've cared less right about now, Andre was on his side. Darrel could see him processing everything, the drink, the war, his friends, life as they know it.

"Give me a second."

Darrel stayed where he was, his ears twitching as he tried his best not to eavesdrop on their conversation. He just really wanted to know what Andre was discussing with them. He figured it was about him, but what exactly?

The guy in the middle seemed to be staring at him as Andre kept on talking. Darrel couldn't blame him. He did literally come out of nowhere; a random stranger bringing them a mysterious drink to them.

"Do you have more of these drinks?" Andre finally asked, turning back to him.

"I do."

"Are you selling it or giving it away?" The other guy finally spoke for the first time.

Darrel smirked, "I'm more than willing to give you two cases – 12 total bottles – and you three can share the one and the second case you can sell for me."

Andre blinked a couple times before shaking his head clear. Ah, the drink is working, he wondered if Andre is strong enough to fight the urge to shift. He had infused the steroid with the liquid booze so it wouldn't taste as gross. The liquid booze slowed down the effect of the remedy; which wasn't good considering lycans have a high tolerance. He smirked to himself, which is exactly why he enhanced the effect.

"Andre," Darrel coughed, "I'd have your friends take a few steps away from you."

Darrel took the biggest step back that he could. When you're a lycan you shift for the first time when you turn 18. Once you officially have the full transformation – he's been told that it can be extremely painful – you get your lycan powers. If you are lucky, you will be able to control your lycan, the strongest of the lycans like the King are always able to control their lycan at their first shift; for the rest of them it will take some training and pratice to be able to control them.

"This isn't his first shift, is it?" Darrel asked debating if he should take another step back, lycans aren't always the nicest of creatures.

"We've all shifted before," The quiet one spoke, not moving as Andre shifted, "I'm Damion and this is Beau."

Andre had finished eating his old skin and was now listening to their conversation. His lycan was average size; his coat was light brown, which matched his eyes. He looked innocent.

"We'll sell it for you, for 40%."

"I'll meet you here every Thursday at sundown –"

"How do we get ahold of you?" Beau asked, cutting him off.

"You won't," Darrel replied, "This is 'your' product, if anyone cares you guys made this. Okay?" He glanced around, meeting their gaze, shrugging at them, "If you need me, I'll find you."

They nodded their heads, agreeing to his terms, as Darrel smiled.

~ 14 Years Later ~

Darrel paced in front of the King's door; he finally made a breakthrough – a small one but still a breakthrough. He reminded himself again and again how he needed to stay collected; he couldn't risk messing up in front of the King or in front of the future King.

"Come in," The King called out, sensing him outside his office.

Darrel took a deep breath, collecting his thoughts, as he pushed open the door.

The King sat proudly in his chair, leaning his elbows off his desk, the gold crown glistening as it sat boldly on his head. His son – who was expected to take over once he turned 18 – stood beside him.

"Your honor," Darrel grinned, never feeling as confident as he did right now, "I've done it. I have successfully extracted the lycan DNA."

The King sat up straighter; this gained his undivided attention.

"Son, I need you to leave, I'll have someone get you after Darrel and I are finished."

The King nodded at his son, dismissing him without a second glance, whatever Darrel had; he better make it good.