𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐏𝐀𝐂𝐊⠀ ⁽ ¹ ⁾

ROGUES .2

Standing in the doorway of the cabin with crossed arms, I dread Allison's arrival. As much as the thought of her in my home troubles me, it's the only way to protect the town. Even if it means rooming with my ultimate enemy. The sight of her car coming down the driveway, settles the anticipation in my chest.  

Allison parks in front of the porch, and glances at me through the window. An always present smug look on her face. Opening the driver's door, she steps out. "Nice glorified dog house you have here." She says, I scoff. "I built it myself."

She opens the back seat of her car, grabbing two bags, one duffle and one shoulder. "Is that right?" Carrying all of them, she walks up the stairs and stops in front of me. I take a look at her bags.  "You clearly travel light." A laugh blows out her nose. "I can tell this is going to be the start of a beautiful friendship." Moving from the doorway, she walks in and places her bags down by the wall.

"Make yourself at home." Walking around her, I go and sit down on the couch, grabbing one of the millions of notebooks that are on it. "Impressive, not like what I expected." I point backwards. "The doors right there if you don't like it."

Allison walks over and sits beside me, but I move away from her. Then she picks up one of the notebooks. "What's all this stuff?"
"Studies from my old pack," I inform her. "Everything a werewolf needs." She teases, flipping through the pages. "It's how I managed to do all this."

Getting up from the couch, I walk over to the wall where one of my photographs is hanging, and take it down. Showing the information board behind it. "Is this–?" She says in awe. "Yeah." I interrupt. She stands beside me. "Everything I had on the rogue." 

Allison reaches out to one of the smaller pictures pinned to the wall. I watch her before crossing my arms again. "I know for a fact, where there's one rogue, there's usually more not too far behind. Kind of like hunters in a sense." At that explanation, she looks at me with a scrutinizing glare, but I don't take it back. Instead, I quirk a brow at her. "Tell me I'm wrong." 

She doesn't argue with me on that. Turning around, I head back to the couch. Allison follows, her hands positioned on her hips. "You think all hunters are bad, don't you?" I sit down and nod, draping my arm around the back of the couch. "That's exactly what I think about them."

Again, she glares at me, but not with the usual fiery hate, but a sympathetic kind of look. Without another word, I look back down at the notes. In the meanwhile, we talk about strategies, plans, and her failed attempts at prying into my personal life. 

A week passes.

"Daddy?" I yawn, shuffling into the kitchen. The faint smell of eggs and bacon waking me up. Dad turns around, a spatula in his hand as he looks down at me. "Mornin', wolfie. I bet you came because you smelled the food."

Pressing my head to his leg I nod slowly, then glance up, making my eyes nice and big. "Can I get a piece?" He chuckles, ruffling my hair. "I'll bet your cousins taught you the puppy dog look." Reaching over into the plate of other freshly made pieces of bacon, he gives me a big one with extra fat.

My mouth instantly waters before it's even in my hand. "Daddy? What's a rogue?" I ask him, taking a big bite of the bacon. Dad stops cooking, and looks at me, his brows furrows. "Where'd you learn that?" I shrug, eating the rest. "I heard you, Uncle Leroy and Uncle Andreas talking about them. Are they scary?"

He sighs, settling his spatula down and wiping his hands on his clothes. "In a way they are." Bending down, he lifts me by the underarms and I laugh before being placed down on the counter next to the stove. "I'd say you're old enough to know what a rogue is by now." He says, I nod excited. "Yeah! I'm a big kid!"