Page 16 of Rogue Games

Wyatt doesn’t look happy, though. He’s got a strange look on his face as we trudge through the overgrowth. The noise from the crowd inside spills out through the open packhouse doors as guests come outside to get some fresh air, their laughter reaching us as we make our way through the gradually thinning trees.

“What?” I ask, irritated when he shoots me yet another judgmental look.

WYATT: Don’t antagonise him, Jamie. He let us stay. Just leave it at that.

Does he really think I’m stupid enough to ruin this now that we’ve gotten this far?

“Wait here,” Callum instructs, pointing at the ground unnecessarily and fixing us with a stern gaze as we walk up to the front of a huge, rambling mansion. It’s an impressive packhouse, not where I’d have expected Dean would live. Somehow, it doesn’t fit with the serious, uptight alpha we just met.

It’s showy and pretentious, designed with only one thing in mind: letting everyone know how much money it cost to build. Impressing others doesn’t seem like it’s high on Dean’s priorities.

His shaggy, dark-haired beta walks inside, long rangy legs taking the steps two at a time, while the other enforcers stay behind to keep an eye on us. They’re still suspicious, and rightly so, while their alpha is apparently recklessly casual about his guests' safety. We could be the vicious, marauding type of rogues, the ones who live to cause trouble and mayhem.

We’re not, but Dean Reynolds doesn’t know that.

Ignoring their blatant stares, and well used to attracting mistrust, I drift closer to the door, brushing my fingers over the ornately carved handle.

I picture my mother standing here, right where I am, looking out over the landscape, and imagine what it must have been like that first day she arrived. How did she feel, coming here all alone? Did she love the view of the mountains in the distance and the river to the west? Or, without her children by her side, did this feel like a prison, albeit a luxurious one?

There’s a strangely peaceful feel to this place, despite its troubled history. It’s untouched and wild, and the air buzzes with electricity, like the atmosphere after a big storm. I thought it would be dark and depressing, that the ghosts of the past would make this place feel creepy. Much as it pains me to admit, it’s anything but.

I feel lighter here. Maybe it’s being close to other wolves, and the prospect of getting some much-needed social interaction with other shifters. Or it could be the feeling that things might be looking up, after feeling powerless for so long.

Giggles and hushed whispers announce the arrival of three teenage girls, who immediately fall silent when they spot me, Wyatt, and our two guards. Mainly focused on Wyatt, they stare wide-eyed as they absorb his sheer size before edging past us to the welcoming party. It’s getting more and more raucous as the anticipation for tomorrow’s event builds.

They should be tucked up in bed, resting the night before a competition, but with wolf recovery so fast, they’re opting to play fast and loose with their preparations.

Not very alpha-like behaviour.

Leaning forward, I peer into the ballroom as the girls walk through double doors, arms linked. Pure, unadulterated joy flows from the room, and for a second, I choke up, overwhelmed by being so close to it.

As always, Wyatt and I are on the outside, looking in. I long to go inside and join the fun, but I stay put, unwilling to do anything that might risk our place here. Soon. We’ll be in the thick of it all soon.

My excitement fades though, as I imagine their horrified faces when we join the party. That familiar feeling of not being wanted burns inside me. Every time we get moved on by another pack no longer willing to ignore our presence on the outskirts of their land, it’s another nail in the coffin of my dreams of being part of a pack again.

But here, within our grasp, is a second chance.

Dean pops into my head once more, and I briefly wonder whether our arrival is the reason why he’s not here. He has no intention of defending our inclusion when the inevitable uproar begins. He’s leaving us to face the angry mob alone.

I don’t care how much my wolf drools over him; he hasn’t done anything to impress the woman in me.

“We need beds for these. Dean wants them in the packhouse, not the dorms.” Callum appears with a beaming she-wolf at his side and points at us. His instructions are curt, but the woman hurrying forward doesn’t seem bothered at all by his tone. She’s his polar opposite, smiling brightly and offering me a huge hug, before giving Wyatt an admiring once over, and doing her very best to make us feel at ease.

“Okay, so you’re our late arrivals. I heard you made quite an entrance. Follow me.” With a big grin, she leads us inside and straight up the wide staircase.

I let my fingers trail over the ornate carvings, marvelling at the smoothness. It’s all so fancy compared to our usual digs.

“Dean mentioned that you’re light on supplies after going for a dip in the river. I’ll find some spare clothes and have them sent to your room.”

It’s not just because we were crossing the river, but I keep that to myself. Eyeing up our sole backpack, slung across Wyatt’s back, Lynn continues to talk over her shoulder as she turns right, leading us down a long corridor. The jumble of scents from the party melts away the further we walk.

This part of the house is rarely used. Nobody else is staying here, and nobody has for a long time, although it’s recently been cleaned. It smells like furniture polish and fabric softener, and not the engrained scents of regular occupants. It’s an entire wing of guest rooms, left empty, while me and Wyatt search for somewhere to lay our heads most nights.

“He’s keeping us hidden here so we can’t get into trouble then?” I ask, earning myself a poke in the ribs from Wyatt.

Lynn stops in front of one door and hands Wyatt a key, before turning to me with another, considering my question.

“I don’t think that’s why Dean’s put you here. These are better rooms than anyone else has. Maybe you just look like you could use a comfortable bed for the night?” She looks genuinely confused as to why I would think his intentions were anything but pure. She didn’t hear him telling me to quit because I’m just a girl with no hope of winning.

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