The Alpha's Rogue ✔️

28 | Moonlight

4672 words

Savannah didn't kill Tori, but she sure came close to it.

The moment she stepped outside in search of the mate-snatching shewolf, Talei squealed and ran over to her, looping her arm around hers and dragging her away. "Look who's finally awake!"

"Sleeping beauty, good to see you could make it," Phoenix grinned and waved her over. A group of wolves were gathered around a large bonfire that was slowly catching alight, while they barbecued juicy meats over a smaller flame grill set a few metres away.

Chayton rose from the other side of the stack of logs, matches and tinderbox in hand. He looked at the growing flames with satisfaction, then lifted his dark eyes in silent greeting. A new scar was etched on his chin, adding a brutal roughness to his already toughened features.

Savannah nodded at him, then glanced around, slowly taking in the relaxed scene. She was amazed at these wolves' desire for flames after narrowly escaping becoming barbecue themselves just last night. The last thing she wanted was more heat, but Talei shoved her down onto one of the many logs that ringed the bonfire, regardless of her protests, and sat heavily beside her. Cale took the seat on her other side, and between them, Savannah was their prisoner.

"I wouldn't really kill her, you know," she grumbled, accepting the glass of water that Willow offered.

"We know. But that glint in your eyes says otherwise," Willow smirked, drinking from a dark bottle as she sat beside Talei. "I fixed your jacket," she held out a piece of leather to Savannah.

She stared at it in surprise. The sleeves had been cut off, refashioning it into a biker vest with silver studs now around the seams. "What happened to it?"

"The fire burnt through some of the leather. I salvaged what I could. You're welcome."

"Thanks, I guess?" Savannah pushed her arms into it, and tucked it snugly against her chest. It warmed her a little against the cold that now slinked from the shadowed forest that surrounded them.

"There's that smell again," Cale commented, leaning over to sniff Savannah like a curious puppy. "What did you wash her jacket with?" he asked Willow.

The apathetic shewolf just shrugged. "Found some liquid soap in Tori's laundry. Nothing fancy," she replied, holding out her hands to the fire that now radiated out heat in waves. When Ethan sat beside her and tried sliding his arm around her shoulders, she shoved him away with a disgusted snort.

Savannah dismissed the low murmurings of their continued conversation, and focused on calming her mind. The scents of roasting meats wafted over the gathering, mingling with smoke, the sweet smell of burning camphor laurel, and something bitter. Looking back over the top of the two-story house, she noticed faint wisps of smoke rising into the darkening sky.

"We lit a funeral pyre earlier," Cale explained, following her line of sight. "A few of Tori's men didn't make it."

Her heart tightened at the reminder of the brutality of the rogue wars, and even though she came from a different world to these wolves, she still felt connected to them in some way. Looking around at the men and women gathered here, Savannah didn't recognise most of them, and surmised they were part of Tori's Nightwing gang. They clearly had a support system going on, these wolves running together much like a pack though they'd probably never admit it. Wolves were social creatures, relying on each other and becoming stronger together. That was a universal truth no matter how much some tried to deny it.

She saw Chuck and Olly, Zion's friends, chatting around the barbecue, beers in hand and smiles on their faces. Zion soon joined them, and though Savannah had her gaze pinned to the back of his head, he didn't seem to notice. Firelight danced on his leather jacket and highlighted the golden tones of his wavy hair.