Nina’s Perspective
The full moon’s light illuminates the black sky as I travel through the woods. Exiting the pack house unnoticed was effortless. Aldo consistently trembles in his office or on the training grounds, relentlessly beating his warriors, while Zen and Marlon continue their search for my sister and her child.
I was essentially managing this chaotic situation myself, and as my mother-in-law, Kay, frequently emphasised, I was not performing adequately.
However, it is inconsequential. Circumstances were poised for transformation.
I proceed along the serpentine path further into the forest until I arrive at the little cottage I was instructed to find.
The cottage is positioned at a slight angle and appears uninhabited for more than a decade, with rampant weeds ascending its wooden walls. The windows are secured with metal bars, and from my vantage point, I observe padlocks affixed to the front door.
A chilling tremor traverses my spine, although retreat is no longer an option. I wish to rotate.
With trembling legs, I exit the vehicle and proceed along the narrow path to the front door, berating myself for my fear. My hand quivers as I rap on the door, and a statuesque blonde woman responds.
“Are you Nina?” “She enquires in a brusque tone.”
“Affirmative,” I murmur, striving to appear indifferent. “Are you referred to as The Rogue?”
She disregards my inquiry, scrutinising me with critical eyes and motioning for me to enter. I enter the shadowy house after her, the kitchen faintly illuminated by a single lamp on the counter. The woman guides me through the dim corridor until we arrive at a room, where she knocks once before opening the door.
A man is seated at a desk, intently gazing at a laptop, his dark brows knitted in concentration.
“Do you possess your payment?” the man behind the desk enquires without raising his gaze from the computer.
“Y-yes,” I stutter, retrieving the small manila envelope from my purse and presenting it to the blonde woman.
The blonde woman retrieves the money, counts it silently, then nods and places it on the desk.
The male gestures dismissively, prompting the blonde woman to withdraw into the hallway and secure the door behind her.
I sense my anxiety reemerge, and my legs begin to tremble once more.
Am I truly undertaking this?
“Are you the individual seeking transformation?” the man enquires, shutting his laptop. “What is the reason?” ”
I tighten my teeth before I ultimately respond. “I am infertile,” I utter with bitterness. “However, I have heard that transformation into a werewolf may potentially remedy human afflictions. I must conceive. My Alpha requires an heir.”
The man deliberates over my statements meticulously.
“I comprehend,” he states, reclining in his chair.
His dark eyes traverse my form, inducing discomfort. I return his gaze with intensity, attempting to unsettle him, yet he merely smirks in response. The enigmatic man possesses considerable handsomeness, characterised by dark hair and eyes. His beard is short and meticulously groomed, and his ears are adorned with piercings. Undulating muscles are scarcely restrained by his black button-up shirt.
“Let us proceed with business,” the man states, inputting a code into what seems to be a safe located beneath his desk.
The safe unlocks with a click, releasing a plume of frigid smoke. He retrieves three vials of dark liquid and arranges them on a rack on the desk.
“This is werewolf venom,” he states, indicating the three vials. “It is extremely potent. Each vial originates from a distinct wolf rank. The higher the rank, the greater the risk of mortality for you. As I previously mentioned, the safest method of transformation is to have your mate transform you.”
“I lack a companion,” I respond, prompting a groan from The Rogue.
“The initial vial is Omega, followed by Beta, and lastly Alpha,” he states, elevating the Alpha vial for careful examination before returning it to the rack. “Your remuneration suffices for a Beta wolf.”
I gaze at the Alpha vial. To ensure its efficacy and gain Aldo’s respect, I must embody an Alpha wolf.
“What is the price of the Alpha?” I enquire, fully aware that I own no disposable funds.
The rogue seemed to be aware of this as well, and his gaze scrutinises me once again.
“I believe we can reach an agreement,” he smirks, his wolf-like eyes deepening in hue.
I gradually approach his desk and take a seat on his lap, encircling my arms around his neck.
“What type of arrangement?” I enquire, playfully pulling at the top button of his shirt.
The Rogue meticulously retrieves the rack of vials and returns them to the cold safe. He then rises and positions me over the desk, lowering my jeans to my ankles. I hear him struggle with his belt buckle before he exposes himself. I attempt to elevate my heels and arch my back for improved access. He tugs at my thong, almost tearing it, and shifts the string aside, grazing his tip against my intimate area, eliciting warm shivers that cascade down my legs to my toes.
