Chapter one

~M

I stare at the white 2003 Honda with its cracked windshield and missing side mirror. Its dirty headlights glare back at me, mocking me.

"Micky-" I begin.

"Why?" his interruption is so sharp it easily slices through the morning fog between us.

I take an easy breath in and out, my eyes still on the car wondering how it even runs anymore.

"Sophia." Again he uses a hard tone, and I debate being honest. Being the mean bitch they think I am and just tell him, but it won't help. He just won't understand.

"It's not you, it's me."

His cold humorless laugh drops the temperature around us down another chilling 10 degrees. If I am being honest, I prefer this laugh to his real one. While I am being honest I should note that I hate his shirt with its oversaturated colors and basic patterns. He reeks of basic cologne that clashes with his overpriced hair care product's potent scent. It aches a bit when I realize that the smells which made him stand out at first now makes me nauseous. I don't let him in on my thoughts as he takes a step closer.

"Are you serious right now?" He asks and I finally look at him. I meet his green-stained eyes with wind kissed cheeks.

"Yes," I say and hold his gaze, "I am on my way out now."

His mouth opens and closes for a moment before his fist tighten, "Why? H-how? We are fated-"

I cut him off this time, "No, Micky. We are not fated. You are just lonely and I was there. That's it." I glance around the abandoned lot at the edge of the woods, making sure no one can overhear us. The last thing I need is his Mommy and Daddy coming to help him persuade me today. They would do anything to make him happy. I am a bit curious as to what that would be like.

Still, this is a perfect example of why I don't date wolves or humans. In fact, I don't date.

"You're wrong," Micky mumbles and I shake my head.

A feel the lick of hot anger run against my skin but suppress the rage, "No. You are and I do not have to listen to you. Your father is not my Alpha. That's the beauty of freedom, I don't answer to anybody."

I failed to suppress the rage as it pokes through the British accent that followed at the end of hard vowels and smashed between drawn-out continents. The accent always tastes different when it comes out in anger.

"Being a Rogue is not freedom! It is a death sentence. I-it is abandonment- you were abandoned Sophia!"

His voice echoes, and echoes, and echoes. I watch his face as he finally hears his own words.

"That's not what-"

I hold a hand up with a glare, "Save it for your real fated match. Best of luck to her."

Without another word, my boot-clad feet carry me away, and he lets me leave.

As I enter the dense woods with a warm fog coating the ground, heavy tree branches droop making their leaves scrape the back of my neck and the straps of my bag.

I realize that I should feel better getting out of wolf territory, leaving behind the mess of another stop that I stayed too long at, but instead, I just feel exhausted and it is more than just the early morning dread.

I suppose I am tried. Tired of wolves, of packs, and Alphas.

I hate going into towns to only find out it is some pack's territory. I have this fantasy about being able to crash an official Order of the Alpha's Meeting just to shout "Unless you peed on every single freaking inch of this town, it's not 'technically' yours!!"

My lips twitch at the thought of my mother's shocked face and my father's laugh if I ever did that while they were alive. The nostalgia is soon followed by the ache and subconsciously I rub at my chest wishing to reach through skin and bone to the ache and soothe it.

But instead it pounds hard against my hand and reminds me that the only person that can take care of me now, is me.

After all that is even what the people that rescued me instilled into my survival instincts. They were rogues as well and could barely take care of themselves, but the pair of them were no strangers to the cruelty this world would show an orphaned child if it ever had the chance.

They saved my life.

But life got in the way of our trio. To be specific the old Alpha of the pack called "Daylights Death" David Ranner.

Rumor is he went crazy and trained his pack so that they could be the most fearsome pack on the east coast of the United States of America. But he went to far and tortured them and then killed his own mate. That's when he was labeled as crazy and was going to be killed by his own pack along with the help of other packs. But he ran away and is now the most wanted wolf in the nation. However his pack his still ruled by a ruthless Alpha, Ashton Reed and rumor has it he is still in contact with David.

People say they are planning to start another war. My teeth grind as another wave of anger tries to set my skin blaze and I remember the first war. The horrors that stay in the corner of my vision and visit me in my nightmares.

Twenty-two was too young to be in a war with no rules, no remorse, and barely any survivors.

Stepping over a root and I feel an instant pressure as I go rigid with the sensation. I've moved through many territories but this one is so powerful it almost stings to cross into the land as an outsider. As if on cue the wind picks up and swirls with leaves tracing against the wind's breath.

And without realizing it I have been walking all night. My mind lingers on the option of joining a pack. The thought has crossed my mind, it would be easier, not having to worry about where I'm going to sleep.

The sudden snap of twigs against dead leaves pulls me from my thoughts. Instinctively, I freeze in my spot and listen.

"I can hear you. Come out," I say. I look around the trees but I don't see anyone.

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