CHAPTER 113: ROGUES PT1

~THIRD PERSON POV~

When the rogues attacked the ColdMoon Pack, Alpha Micca used it as cover, a chance to make his escape.

Before that Alpha King Ambrose showed up at his pack, things were working smoothly. He had it all planned out. He was going to sell out Ambrose and the pack to pay off his debts to the casino. To that menacing woman. Lilith. She’d almost skinned him alive over the money he owed.

Where had he gone wrong? He was sure he had confidently covered up all his tracks. He was sure of it.

So where had he slipped up? Where was his mistake? It was eating him up, but he didn’t have the time to consider the possibilities.

He had a slim window of cover to escape the prison before he would be executed.

Alpha Micca was sure the information he had would buy him a spot in the Rogue King’s Pack.

Rogue Packs existed. Contrary to common belief, rogues weren’t despised or uncivilized. But they were made of mostly criminals, people with a past to hide or secrets to keep buried, they were deserters, fugitives. But also, people. Rogues weren’t just made; they were also born.

Though relations between rogues and recognized packs where strained, at best, the two groups of shifters co existed. They both had their place.

But since an unknown rogue king became a piece of the chessboard, the relations were severing.

And Alpha Micca planned to exploit that for his personal gain.

Because after all, they don’t make bunk beds in caskets, he is the only person he can rely on, so he was only ever looking after himself.

So, when they came in the dark of the night, he ran. The guards were distracted and he slid out, right under their noses. He slipped out the back of the pack while his own people fight for their lives.

He ran. Like a coward. But he didn’t care, what mattered to him was he’d live another day. Even if it meant living as a rogue. He’d abandon everything and everyone to save the skin on his own ass.

The night was cold and smelled of iron from freshly spilled blood and thick black smoke.

Micca ran. Out from the prison, past the guards running toward the point of attack. Leaving the back of the pack mostly defenseless.

He used his keys to unlock the gate that was hidden in the back. A mostly unknown door in and out of the pack. The one he would slip through to make his way to the casino in hell.

Hell wasn’t just a place, but another plane, and you needed to use weylines to get there. And lucky for him there was one not far from the pack, so he had a secret door installed.

Teleportation stones, fae rings, and weylines, were the only known ways to travel using magic. And they were the only ways to move between planes.

He’d never been more grateful to be a scheming, overcautious, paranoid, alpha. It paid off now, just when he needed it most.

He made it out unseen. The wind howled, carrying the cries of his people. He ignored them. All that mattered was getting out alive.

His wolf battered him in his mind relentlessly, guilting him. But he shoved his wolf into the back of his mind. He’d deal with him later.

’Survive’ he thought to himself over and over.

The further into the cold mountains he went, the colder the wind blew. The harder it screamed in his ears. The snow started falling hard and fast, quickly becoming a whiteout.

He was shivering from the freezing bitter air. His wolf not providing any protection from the cold.

’Let him freeze, coward’ his wolf thought.

The wind and snow battered his shaking body. The cold settling into his bones, warmth becoming as foreign as kindness to Micca.

A wolfs howl reached his ears, forcing him to stop dead in his tracks. He looked around frantically, trying to even get a glimpse of his surroundings, but it was pure white.

He could sense it. He was being watched. Someone in the shadows observing and examining his every move.

Seemingly black figures moved into hie field of vision, the shadows hid their faces just enough he couldn’t tell who they were.

And then he felt a spear against his back.

He gulped as warning took hold of his body. Alarms blaring in his mind, and his wolf more silent than ever.

"I’m here in peace." Micca spoke with a shaky nervous voice.

A cruel wicked laugh erupted from behind the snowy wall made of falling snow.

"In peace? That’s a good joke, Alpha Micca." The deep voice in the back spoke.

He could feel the presence of something dark and sinister approaching. The hair on his body stood straight up. Unease nipped at his neck. The sharpened tip of the spear pressing into his back.

"Or should I just call you Micca now? Seeing as you have abandoned your pack during an attack I orchestrated." The voice grew louder as he walked closer.

"I... I... I have information for the Rogue King on the Alpha King. I... I... I would like to trade information with yo... yo... your king for safety and protection inside one of the rogue packs." Micca stuttered anxiously. Cold sweat dripping from his forehead.

"It certainly better be valuable if you kept your cowardice and disloyalty to be overlooked. Being made up of betrayers, liars, and cheats makes a cautious group of shifters." The voice said.

"Oh, it is, I can guarantee that." Micca confidently admitted.

"Well, let’s just see about that. Come."

Micca felt the spear at his back press into him a little harder edging him forward. He understood the gesture and walked through the snow with the shadowy figures leading away.

Micca didn’t know where they were taking him. He didn’t care as long as it was away from his death.

A cave appeared in his view, an orange glow emanated from inside.

The minute he stepped out of the snow and into the caves mouth he could feel the warmth of fire and chit chat among people.

"Welcome, to the kingdom of rogues."