By the time Blake was released from the ward, the door to the examination room had been firmly closed behind him. He knew he should walk away. His time would most definitely be put to better use elsewhere. But his instincts wouldn't let him leave.

As Alpha he had a duty to protect his pack at all costs and the rogue attack this morning, especially so deep within the territory, was a danger he couldn't afford to overlook. The arrival of this girl that triggered so many mixed emotions, was no less dangerous. He just hadn't figured out how yet. She was just one piece an increasingly large puzzle.

Are you sure the rogues and the girl are even the same puzzle? his wolf asked in a tired voice.

He didn't know. But, either way, he still couldn't leave her.

Scowling at the closed door, he turned and went in search of his lieutenants, hoping they weren't too far away. He had no intention of leaving a stranger unguarded inside his pack house, he reasoned with himself.

He found them both in the comfortable waiting room at the front of the hospital.

Marcus was hunched over one of the coffee tables, a hand-drawn map of the territory spread out in front of him. It was already covered in arrows, crosses and shorthand notes and he was glaring at it in frustration. His brows furrowed and his shoulders knotted in tension as he swore under his breath and scrubbed out one arrow, only to redraw it elsewhere on the map.

Alex, in stark contrast, was splayed out across one of the sofas, completely relaxed, eyes closed. Looking for all the world like he had settled down for the afternoon in his own home, he hummed in pleasure. A bottle of beer even sat on the coffee table within reach.

"Comfortable?" Blake asked as he walked in, scratching the bandage on his shoulder.

Alex opened one eye and grinned up at him. "Exceptionally - I must ask Doc where he got his furniture from."

Marcus looked up and shot Alex a look of irritation, then spotted the bandage sticking out from under the neck of Blake's shirt. "What happened? Why isn't that healed yet?"

Blake perched himself on the arm of the sofa and pulled down his neckline to show them. "It's fine. It would appear some of the rogues have started using poison on their weapons. The nurse took a swab but it's probably wolfs-bane or belladonna. Maybe a mix."

He scratched at it again. The wound was healing slowly, and itching a lot.

"They've never done that before," Alex mused, sitting up. "They're taking a huge risk using something that's deadly to them as well as us. Especially with all the backstabbing that goes on in rogue circles... literally, in many cases."

"They've always restricted themselves to small skirmishes in the past as well," Marcus reminded him. "Now look at them. It would explain why so many of them are carrying weapons all of a sudden - a poison would be too dangerous to use on their own claws, at least for the majority of them. I can't be sure but I think they're preparing for something major. They haven't been this organised since -"

"The rogue wars," Blake finished for him. Eight years ago, the werewolf world had faced one of the deadliest uprisings in its history: a rogue mutiny. The war had been short but brutal. Brought to a bloody close in a battle right on their doorstep, in Blake's own territory.

Marcus was right, the war had decimated rogue numbers. They tended to stick together in small groups on areas of no man's land. Some made up of thugs and trouble makers, others professional mercenary types... wolves for hire. But in the last few months attacks had been coming more frequently and in greater numbers, and Blake was beginning to suspect something was motivating them to work together.

Or someone.

"I'll mention it to my father," Blake decided. "I think he'll want to take steps soon. As long as they stuck to their in-fighting they weren't really all that important anymore, but this new policy of cooperation is another thing entirely."

"What about the girl?" Alex questioned, taking a swig of his beer, "Do you think she's involved? She could have been a deliberate distraction. Something to get us looking the other way, and running round in circles while they snuck in behind."

Blake was about to reply but Marcus was shaking his head vigorously.

"No, I've been thinking about that. If we hadn't found the girl, they'd have been in a much better position to attack from. Think about it," he pointed to the map. "we'd have continued to travel further out away from both the village and potential back up. Alex and his patrol were heading in the opposite direction away from the rogue's position - they only turned around because we did. If we hadn't, the rogues might even have made it all the way into the village... especially with their scent dulled."

Alex nodded slowly, a small frown forming. "That's the other thing though," he asked after a pause. "Their scent. How in the hell did we miss it? Rogues stink at the best of times, but I didn't catch a whiff until I was right on top of them!"

"I think the better question is, how did they hide it?" Blake sighed, sitting down beside Marcus and taking a look at his map. "I think I'd better give Ethan a call. He knows scents better than anyone, he might have answers."

They stayed like that for a while, pouring over the pencilled in lines marking their territory in an attempt to glean a pattern from the attacks.

Alex lay back down with his eyes closed offering the occasional suggestion here and there. His skills lay in action, not paperwork.

At some point they were joined by Blake's Aunt, Sarah - a formidable old lady who had scurried over to find them as soon as she'd calmed down her overwrought niece. Sky's babbling had taken some time to decipher, and even then, all she'd really gleaned from the girl's excited explanation was: Rogues. Human. Blood. Stench.

Not that she'd contributed much to their discussions. Preferring instead to alternate between lecturing Blake about the dangers of allowing his sister so far out past the safety of the village, and berating the other two for allowing undesirables to breach the pack borders. Her frequent glances towards the surgery's closed door suggested she wasn't just talking about the rogues.

In between one tirade and the next, she'd shift her knitting around and slip in a pointed comment or two about the advantages of having a Luna in the pack in such circumstances. Usually followed by a thinly-veiled compliment about the suitability of one of her 'suggestions' for the position.

She didn't seem to need any responses from the three men, nor did she seem particularly bothered whether or not they were listening; as long as she was expressing her opinion, she was happy.

As a result Blake was able to close his eyes and ignore her for the most part - his mind torn between the rogue attack and the sleeping beauty in the next room. He only finally acknowledged Sarah's presence when she jabbed him in his side with a bony finger, tearing him away from his brooding thoughts. The doctor had arrived.

Completely unsurprised to see the welcoming committee assembled in his waiting room, Doc observed them all passively; his arms crossed over his chest, glasses perched precariously on the end of his nose.

Blake stood up expectantly, but Doc waved him back down and perched on the arm of one of the remaining chairs.

Alex hauled himself up again and offered him a beer, which he politely declined.

"How is she? Can we question her?" Blake asked.

"She's stable and no, that would be difficult as she hasn't regained consciousness yet."

"Is that normal?" Blake worried.

"For a head injury like this, yes. Especially with humans, they need more time to heal."

Blake ran his fingers through his hair in frustration. I need answers. "We have to talk to her, Doc."

He's trying to keep us away, Rothan growled in his head.

"Go home," Doc advised. "I will fetch you when she wakes up and -"

"I'm not leaving until I know if she's a threat to the pack or not," Blake asserted, firmly.

"Quite right," his Aunt spoke up boldly. "Just as it should be. She could be any sort of undesirable. A rogue's mate, a spy, a criminal on the run -"

"In a summer dress with no shoes on?" Doc queried sceptically.

Sarah jabbed her finger at him warningly. "Oh, I've seen it all over the years, you wouldn't believe it. Humans colluding with rogues for money and power. Werewolf wannabes lured into working side by side with enemy packs under the promise of being turned.

A bit extreme, Rothan murmured. But she has a point.

"That dress could be a cover," she continued. "A way to get you to believe whatever story she decides to tell us." She paused for dramatic effect. "She could be a suitor, trying her luck with the Alpha and this is her way of getting in."

Alex snorted into his beer and Marcus looked at her in open mouthed astonishment.

"Or," the Doc suggested, turning to his Alpha, "She could just be a traumatised victim who doesn't deserve to be interrogated as soon as she opens her eyes."

Blake tore his mortified eyes off Sarah to stare instead at Doc. "I've no intention of interrogating the girl," Blake said stiffly. "She's not a prisoner here."

Yet, his wolf murmured in the back of his mind.

"What can you tell me about her?" he asked, desperate for some information, even second hand.

Doc looked at him shrewdly. "I can tell you many things about her, but I doubt much of it will give you any insight into who she is or why she's here. For example, I can tell you that she's 5ft 5" and aged approximately between nineteen and twenty one years old. She shows no sign of ill health beyond the injuries she's suffered recently, all of which occurred within the last forty eight hours."

He scratched his nose thoughtfully, and adjusted his glasses that were threatening to take a flying leap off his nose every time he spoke. "The scratches on her arms and legs are, as I suspected, mainly from branches and thorns... she must have brushed passed them as she was running through the forest. I've seen dozens of them on our own warriors when they've been in too much of a hurry to watch where they're going." He dismissed them with a wave of his hand. "They'll be fine, heal on their own. Most of the bruises are fresh as well, probably occurred around the same time -"

"Most?" Blake interrupted.

"There are a few slightly older bruises, still within that forty-eight-hour period though. Given the time frame, she must have been out in the woods overnight I'd say."

Blake shifted uncomfortably; he didn't like the idea that she'd been out there undiscovered for so long.

Apparently neither did Rothan. As Doc continued his report, his wolf began giving him step by step instructions on the direction the conversation with their border patrol was going to go when they finally caught up with them.

"You said she was running?" Marcus asked, finally folding the battered map up and shoving it into a pocket out of the way.

"Yes, definitely," Doc nodded. "The lacerations on her feet were quite significant - she'll have fun walking for a few days. They wouldn't be nearly so severe had she been picking her way carefully through the undergrowth. Her head -"

"Might I be the first to jump to a logical conclusion?" Alex interrupted lightly.

They all looked at him.

"As she was clearly running barefoot - and no one in their right mind runs barefoot through any forest, or anywhere else for that matter voluntarily - I'd say she was running from something. Wouldn't you?" When no one jumped in with a reply, he stretched, stood up and continued his train of thought.

"Logically that leaves us with limited possibilities doesn't it? A human working with rogues voluntarily isn't likely to be running away from them, and we've already established that her appearance was more of a hindrance than a help when they attacked so," He paused to gather his thoughts. "One: Was she a rogue prisoner who escaped and ended up on our land by sheer coincidence? Or two: An innocent tourist lost in the forest?"

"Both a little unlikely, don't you think?" Marcus commented.

Blake silently agreed, he'd been taught not to believe in coincidences.

"Or," Alex continued warming up. "She's here deliberately. So, three: She could be a criminal who could be running from the law. But, as Doc pointed out, she's a tad underdressed for the prison services so let's call that one unlikely as well." He shrugged. "As Sarah pointed out, she could be option number four: Our irresistible Alpha's next hopeful Luna."

Blake resisted the urge to shudder. Please, no more suitors.

Alex grimaced. "How would that work exactly? She puts on a nice dress, gets herself all torn up deliberately and places herself conveniently in his path ready to fall into his arms? Seems a little bit elaborate to me just to catch a man but let's leave that one on the table for now."

He looked thoughtful for a moment and glanced around, concluding with: "Anyone think of anything else? Because I'm all out."

There was a long silence in the waiting room as they all stared at him before Aunt Sarah mused: "Maybe she's not in her right mind."

Blake blinked. "What?"

"He said, no one in their right mind... maybe she's not in her right mind. Call it option number five, if you will."

"If I may continue?" Doc said stiffly, looking at his Alpha. "Her head injury. Nasty by all accounts. Probably a rock judging by the debris I picked out of her wound. Of course, I can't say if she hit it... or if it hit her."

"And that's why she's still asleep?" Blake questioned.

Doc nodded in agreement: "That and sheer exhaustion. The shadows under her eyes suggest she hasn't been sleeping recently."

"And her scent?" Marcus interjected. "Was it masked, like the rogues?"

"No." Doc looked suddenly wary. "An artificial scent or mask would have worn off by now. It appears to be naturally occurring. Funny," he then mused. "I'd be prepared to swear that I've smelt something like it before... a very long time ago. But I can't put my finger on it."

He glanced over at Blake, an odd look in his eyes. If it were anyone other than the immovable Doc, Blake would guess he was nervous. "I took a blood sample. I hoped it would give us some answers." He paused. "But I fear it may have become contaminated somehow; there were some anomalies in the tests." He mumbled something under his breath and Blake's sharp hearing caught the words 'quite impossible'.

He's holding something back, Rothan informed him.

Obviously. "Then take another sample," Blake instructed him. His look let the doctor know that he was aware that he wasn't being told everything.

"Yes, Alpha," Doc agreed quietly, looking anywhere but at his Alpha.

Blake sighed and ardently scratched at his bandage again. "Marcus, go and find one of the trackers. Head back up onto the eastern trail and see if you can trace her route back to the border. I want to know where she crossed over. Take Amara with you as well, she already knows the scent. If you can follow further, do it. I want to know what direction she came from, and where she started running." He glanced down at his Aunt. "and if possible, whether her tracks look like she was deliberately heading for us."

Aunt Sarah nodded approvingly.

"The rain will make it difficult," Marcus pointed out. "but I'll trace the rogue's routes as well, see if their scents cross over anywhere, or if I can find any evidence that she wasn't alone out there." He headed out the door into the main pack house, already mind-linking Amara to meet him on the tree line.

Doc looked at Blake hopefully. "She may be out for several hours yet. Are you sure you wouldn't like to go home and -?"

"No," said Blake firmly, adding a little Alpha tone to his voice. "I am staying here until she wakes up."

Temporarily defeated, Doc shuffled back into the hospital.

"Persistent little man, isn't he?" Aunt Sarah sniffed with a hint of disapproval.

Blake was wise enough not to comment.

All his critical thinking done for the day, Alex had lounged back against the sofa and was watching him with lazy amusement.

"What?" Blake snapped.

"Nothing, nothing at all," he replied with a grin. "The morning patrols should be coming back in by now. I think I'll go and have a word... I assume we'll be putting them all through a Beasting in the morning after today's adventures? Bright and early?"

"Very early." Blake confirmed grimly. "Everyone attends, Alex. I'll lead it myself. Be firm when explaining why. Very firm. My sister was out there today."

Alex had an evil grin on his face as he left the room. He suspected he'd see more than one warrior with bruises tomorrow morning.

Blake looked at Sarah but, before he could suggest that she go home as well -

"No," she declared tightly, reflecting his own reaction to being asked to leave. "I think I'd better see this girl with my own eyes before your father asks me for my opinion on the situation... which he will." She looked at his tired face speculatively, " He would have killed her on sight you know."

"I know."

Never hesitate, his father always lectured. Hesitate and you're dead.

"So would your brothers," she sniffed.

Blake flinched, then thought it through. "Ethan, maybe. Who knows what Tristan would do nowadays. But Ash? No, definitely not. He's too much of a fan of a good puzzle. He'd want to solve her... then bed her," he added as an afterthought.

"And you?" his aunt prompted. "Why didn't you kill her?"

"I don't know."

Yes, you do, murmured his wolf accusingly.

"I see." She had an unreadable expression on her face.

"Speaking of Asher," she said, emphasising the 'er' at the end of his name. "He's on his way here, maybe today... or tomorrow? He wasn't clear."

Blake looked at her in consternation. "He's what?"

"On his way here," she confirmed, returning to her knitting. " He volunteered to bring your sister some more supplies over... seemed quite eager actually." She peered at him as he groaned, his head falling into his hands. "Said something about taking the opportunity to watch you dance?" She frowned. "I didn't know you danced?"

"I try to avoid it as much as possible," he replied cryptically. Ash wanted to see him dance all right, the dance of the devil's daughter. The one thing he was trying to avoid for as long as possible, and that, thanks to his meddling family, crept inevitably closer. His only consolation was that one day, when Ash fell onto the hook, he'd get to return the favour.

It'll never happen, his wolf laughed.