The day I met the mysterious man in the crisp dark suit, I had been dying in my own pool of blood, waiting for Death to take me in his arms.

A little dramatic but it was true.

I thought I was ready.

My body had become numb at some point. My blood began to cool and seep into the grass as if Mother Earth had begun her arduous preparations to welcome one of her children back home.

My chest tightened as tears threatened to spill from my eyes. I didn't really know why I was crying. All I knew was that I was having a hard time trying to keep my emotions in check. It'd been so long since I fell asleep in a warm bed or had a full belly. The last thing I ate was probably that rotten apple that had fallen off a fruit stall. That was two days ago. I felt bad swiping it up and tucking it in my pocket but I had been so damn hungry. No one had caught me but I still felt like I had the whole market's attention laser focused on the back of my head as I strode away with my gaze locked firmly on the ends of my scuffed shoes.

I clenched my teeth together, watching the trees sway in and out of my vision.

Was this really the end?

How long had I been here?

The thick scent of blood filled the air, tainting the natural aroma of the forest.

My wolf had gone so utterly silent, I couldn't sense her.

Somewhere inside me, a little voice whispered to get up. I squeezed my eyes shut and focused on my breathing. I didn't want to die but it felt like I was going to.

Get up baby girl. Get up.

I held in a scoff. I was going crazy and hearing voices in my head.

Maybe I was already dead.

Get up!

I grinded my molars and ignored the sharp pain that violently shook my body when I shifted onto my side. Holding a pained breath, I got the fuck up, forcing my limbs to obey my command.

My knees buckled but I silently begged them to keep me up for a little longer or at least until I could draw a proper breath. Something cracked and I prayed like hell that it wasn't my little toe. That toe had already been through enough, hitting table corners.

When I was finally upright, I took in the fallen bodies surrounding me.

All of them were dead.

I didn't bother sparing a single one even the slightest glance. They didn't deserve it or a hint of my grief but I couldn't ease the ache in my chest as I limped away.

"You."

A hiss of breath left my parched lips. There I went again, hearing voices in my head. I really needed to see a Pack healer with these wounds but I was sure they would turn me around once they scented the Rogue on me.

I couldn't exactly blame them either.

Rogues weren't the friendliest bunch of changelings.

There were several ways one could go Rogue.

Majority of the wolves that transitioned into Rogues were usually the changelings that let their wolves conquer their human counterparts. There had to be a delicate but controlled balance between human and wolf. If one couldn't get it right, one could either completely hearken to their human part, meaning, they couldn't ever morph into a wolf in their lifetime but would only retain their heightened senses. We called them 'non amimum'- or 'no spirit'.

Changelings always believed that their wolf was the spirit of the body.

On the flip side, those who heeded to their wolf's call completely, were lost. The wolf needed control from their human half but if that didn't exist, there was no stability.

Some Rogues- the resilient ones- could still transition into their human halves but it was the wolf that essentially controlled them. Hence, they were a handful. Packs were always on the alert for Rogue sightings because they didn't want the inevitable drama that ensued.

Rogues didn't immediately mean danger. Rogues only had one thing in common.

They were all without a Pack.

No Pack, instantly made you a Rogue.

Wolves travelled in Packs. They thrived on it. Pack was family. They were also strong ties forged from blood, sweat and tears.

Then there were the others who fell through the cracks.

Like me.

I was a Rogue because I had no Pack.

Some days, I could barely leash my wolf. There was no doubt that my wolf thrummed with restrained energy. The more I allowed her to surface, the harder it was to reel her in. So, I tried to decrease the amount of times I morphed. I was scared one day I wouldn't be able to pull her in. Then, I would truly become a senseless Rogue.

Wolves needed Packs to control their beasts. It was why those who left the Pack or had none easily became prey to their animals.

I wasn't sure why I lasted as long as I did but I could feel how less and less in control I was becoming over my wolf and that shot thick fear into my heart.

The leaves shifted and I paused mid-step, scanning the area.

"Who's there?" I called out, frowning.

A moment of silence passed before someone spoke, "Aw, you didn't say 'Knock Knock'."

I stiffened as a man slowly drew away from the thickened shadows.

I couldn't make sense of his sudden appearance. The man, I eventually realized, was wearing a three-piece suit the shade of crushed blueberries with some fancy silk scarf wrapped around his neck. He looked like he missed the turn to the tea party hosted the Royals.

"Who are you?" I demanded as unease rippled along my spine. I couldn't trust his appearance. His clothing could've been a mere disguise, a deceit.

The man looked wholly unimpressed as his gaze flickered over my person. Sure, I was bleeding everywhere. Most likely, I was leaving a trail of blood for some rabid animal to catch me for dinner later.

"You got a little something there." The man had the audacity to point to the side of my head where I could feel the warm trickle of blood slipping down my cheek.

I shifted my stance, becoming defensive. He seemed amused by this as he assessed me beneath those shiny glasses of his. I contemplated ripping those off.

If I was being completely honest, he could probably flick me in the head and I'd tumble over like a toddler. My legs were shaking and did I mention I was losing blood?

"Leave me be. I don't want to have to fight you."

"Then don't. I'd rather not have you fall to your face before I tell you why I'm here."

"I didn't ask but since you're standing there, go ahead. Tell me." I said between clenched teeth. My head was becoming woozy and frankly, he was becoming a blur. I was counting on my stubbornness to keep me on my feet for a few minutes longer until he vanished.

"I'm recruiting you." The man announced.

"E-excuse me?" I blinked, stumped.

Not only was I slowly going crazy hearing little voices, I was officially going to need a hearing check.

"I'm of the Shadow Hunters."

I stared at him, confused. "Um, good for you." I tried to blink him into focus but my knees began to shake.

I'd been standing too long.

I was going to pass out.

The man seemed to notice the same thing since he marched up to me and clamped a hand over my elbow to keep me from falling.

I groaned, feeling the rest of the slashes across my body sting with pain.

"You'll be coming with me. You'll be able to see the Pack healer. After, you'll get some rest before you're placed into the complex with the others."

"W-What?" I tried to wiggle my elbow out from his grip but he refused to let go.

"Shhhh, everything will be okay Penelope."

"Who the hell are you?" I asked tiredly, trying to fight off the fatigue. I was losing and this stranger was creeping me out.

"I'm Seamus." He introduced himself, like I had been privy to the information long before he arrived.

I opened my mouth to reply but my vision blurred.

I felt the world topple and his arms lift me up high. My head hit his collarbone, creating a small ache. I faded into a deep slumber. It was only when the last echoes of consciousness lingered that I realized the man already knew my name.