Page 5 of What's Rogue Got To Do With It

Technically, he didn’t have the authority to put me down. Not when he just marked me a rogue. Not unless I came back.

But I remembered what my father said. He wanted me to survive this.

“I choose rogue.”

I had no idea how that would work. What it would be like, living among humans who were put off by me, and ignored by shifters—or worse, treated horribly by them. But that was a worry for another day.

Marcu gave me till sundown to get out, allowing me to watch them put my father on the fire. His body had already been taken away. I didn’t have a chance to say a proper goodbye. But then again, he was with the Goddess. So it wouldn’t really be goodbye, as much as me finding closure. I could do that later. For now, I needed to survive.

Giving me time to pack had been foolish on Rayne’s part. It gave me the time to open a new online bank account and transfer over the money my father and I had saved in our own accounts. I wasn’t sure how much the den had access to and this would keep our money safe from Rayne. Being rogue was difficult enough without adding being penniless to the mix.

With my finances situated the best they could be and my backpack on, I watched as Ryan placed my father on the burial pyre. Rayne set the flames only minutes before sundown.

“You have five minutes. If you are on den lands in six minutes you will die.”

My time with the den was done. Now was the time to run.

3

LARKIN

The trucker who picked me up outside of Chester's let me off at the edge of what could barely be called a town. Gravel Ridgehad the air of a place that had given up judging by the weathered storefronts. The single main street stretched from one end of town to the other and the cars and trucks on either side were manufactured over fifteen years ago.

The sign on the outskirts of town said the population was 800 but that had been crossed out a few times and now it read 804. Those four were probably dogs and maybe one cat.

I shouldered my pack, groaning at its weight. Though I had shifter strength, getting kicked out of yet another town was taking a toll on my emotions. I’d bitten my nails down to the quick and had scratched the skin off my forearm.

This town might be different. My wolf was gazing at the surrounding woods, thinking of the prey he’d catch.

Maybe. I doubted it though.

Gravel Ridge was unlike the highway stops I'd grown used to, with their constant stream of travelers who minded their ownbusiness. This was a place where newcomers stood out as if they had a siren attached to them or a neon sign blinked on their head. I was familiar with these places and everyone knew their neighbor's business as well as their shoe size and what lube they used.

I got off the road because of the huge potholes and walked along the cracked sidewalk. The local council mustn’t have had much money and I wondered where their funds went. Not on the upkeep of the public areas.

As I ambled along, I drew glances from people sitting on a bench outside the general store. I nodded and added a smile but they didn’t reciprocate. They paused their conversation as I passed and I sensed their eyes on me. They were wondering who I was and what I was doing in Gravel Ridge because few strangers ever came here and the few that did were on the run or up to no good.

For sure they were eyeing my worn boots and backpack and thinking I was trouble. There were rarely jobs in towns this size so I might have to hitch another ride. But how many cars passed through that weren’t local? I might end up sleeping in the woods and raiding garbage bins for food.

The air smelled clean apart from the dust kicked up by the one passing car whose driver slowed down to gawk at me through his open window. But there were no shifter scents marking territory or warning of pack boundaries. Just humans and car exhaust, along with the dust but with a hint of sweetness. I guessed there was little in this town that produced that sweet aroma so it must have been crops growing beyond the town limits.

That’s good and bad. My beast put my feelings into words.

Yes. There’d be no Alphas demanding I leave but being the only shifter for miles, emphasised how alone I was.

I passed a small diner and stared through the window. I awarded the staff points because the glass was spotless and having worked in similar places, I was aware how difficult that was. I could mosey in and ask for a job but I’d bet the staff consisted of the owner, a waiter and a cook.

The guy behind the counter peered back at me and if I went in, he’d ask a million questions and know my life history in five minutes or less. Except I’d have to bob and weave, add a fib or two and an outright lie because I never knew when my past might catch up with me.

The Alpha vowed I’d never step on pack land again and while I was nowhere near there, I was always looking over my shoulder, searching for his scent because pushing me out of the place I grew up would never tamp down his opinion that I was “other.”

Chester had never pushed for information, maybe because he had something in his past he didn’t share but most folks in small towns did their utmost to drag the details out of strangers. So, I kept on walking as diner customers ignored their coffee and studied me.

Next to the diner stood a barbershop, its blue, red, and white pole spinning and I half expected it to take off. It probably wanted to escape this life. There was a small post office, a grocery store and a gas station. As I suspected, the town had few employment opportunities. I doubted the diner needed a dishwasher and the grocery store was probably manned by one, maybe two people. And if there was something available, they’d want social security numbers, bank accounts and home addresses.

My wolf stirred, saying if he took his fur, I could stop thinking about my life while he hunted. But there were eyes on me and people might get curious if I snuck off into the trees. I refused to do anything that drew attention to me, other than walking down the street.

But my beast understood that this small town was wrong for us because he sensed the tension bubbling inside me. It left little room for him and he wanted it gone.

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