Page 2 of What's Rogue Got To Do With It

"Sit," the Alpha commanded.

I stayed where I was. "I haven't done anything wrong."

"I know." The alpha's expression didn’t betray his purpose. "That's why we're having this conversation instead of a different kind."

Chester hovered nearby. He was protective of me but he had to live and work in this town and he couldn’t disrespect an Alpha.

"It's alright, Chester. This is a friendly chat."

He retreated to the kitchen,and it was as though I’d lost my last friend.

"My name's Fenton," the alpha continued. "I run the Fenwild Pack and my betas informed me you were here a week ago."

I clenched my jaw.. "I'm not causing trouble."

"I agree you're working, keeping to yourself and not hunting on our land. I respect that." Fenton leaned forward slightly. "But you're also an unmated omega with no den or pack protection.”

I braced myself for what was coming.

“And that makes you a liability."

The words stung like tiny barbs piercing my skin because they were true. I'd heard them many times from different alphas. And like the others, Fenton was polite but he’d tell me I had to leave.

"How long?"

"Tonight would be best. Tomorrow morning at the latest." His tone was even but there was no mistaking the steel underneath. "I'm not trying to be cruel. But I've got a pack to protect, and lone omegas attract the kind of attention nobody wants."

I'd known this would happen because it always did. "I understand."

"Do you have somewhere to go?"

That question was new. Most alphas didn't bother asking about my plans. "I do." I didn’t but I'd find somewhere.

Fenton studied me, and I fought the urge to shuffle my feet under that penetrating gaze.

He sighed. "If circumstances were different..." He didn't finish the sentence, but there was no need.

"I'll be gone by morning.”

He tapped the twenty he left on the table for his untouched coffee. "Safe travels."

I returned to the kitchen where Chester was pretending to organize inventory. "Everything okay?" He didn’t look at me.

"I have to go. Tonight."

He put a hand on my shoulder. "I figured as much. That's how it goes with young folks these days. Everyone’s always moving on."

I’d had this conversation with many employers since I’d been forced from the pack where my family had been seeking refuge. "I'm sorry.”

"There’s no need." He pressed an envelope into my hands. It’d be my wages plus extra, knowing him. "Take care of yourself."

I didn’t trust myself to say anything and finished the last of the dishes before hanging up my apron, and walking out. I collected my pack from my room and strode out to the highway. It stretched in both directions, north and south, leading to new towns and the same problems. My wolf paced beneath my skin, tired of the endless cycle of arrival and departure.

But there was no alternative so I shouldered my pack and started walking south, toward whatever came next.

2

CREVEN

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