The Rogue Series Book 2: The Rogue Resistance

APRIL

Before he even steps into the room, Simon’s scent—blueberry and cedar—fills my nostrils. I hold my breath, trying to keep my wits about me.

My family is engaged in lighthearted conversation, oblivious to the turmoil that’s become my life. But then again, this isn’t anything new. As an alpha’s daughter, I’ve learned to put on a brave face, even when my world is falling apart.

Simon enters the room, and I plaster on a smile, nodding along to the conversation I’m not really listening to.

It’s a struggle to keep up appearances. I can’t bring myself to look at him. I have to remember to breathe.

I have to act normal. It’s pure torture.

Finding a mate should be a joyous occasion. I’ve watched friends and packmates find their mates over the years. It’s always a cause for celebration.

Families host parties and special dinners. New mates vanish for weeks, lost in each other’s company. When they finally reappear, they’re always so in love.

But Simon and I haven’t experienced any of that, even though it’s been nearly a month since we first met.

I guess the celebrations only happen when both parties want the mate bond.

“Simon, would you like some tea?” my grandpa offers, gesturing for him to sit.

A smile tugs at my lips. Is my grandpa, Alpha Octavious, really inviting a rogue to join us for tea?

Just two months ago, Grandpa wouldn’t have dreamed of sitting down with a rogue. He wouldn’t have even allowed him in the house.

But now, he’s extending an invitation. I bite my lip, forcing the smile away.

I glance down at my cup. Why is Simon here? Didn’t we have an unspoken agreement to avoid each other?

“Um, actually, Harley asked me to fetch April…if you’re free.”

Of course. He’s only here because his favorite person needs me. He follows Alpha Harley around like a lost puppy, only ever speaking to the leaders of Night Fang and his siblings.

Frustration bubbles up inside me, my chest tightening. How can he be so calm, so cold, while I’m barely keeping it together?

I want to tell him to leave, to ignore his request like he’s been ignoring me. The thought sends butterflies fluttering in my stomach. It would be so liberating.

But I can’t send him away. Alpha Harley sent him. As a pack member, it’s my duty to go with him.

Without turning to face him, I rise, smooth out my skirt, and head for the door. I can feel him behind me, sparks dancing up my skin.

If only these sensations were intentional. I make my way to the main staircase, heading toward the offices.

A soft cough pulls me out of my thoughts. “Can we talk?”

I freeze, forcing myself to turn toward him. “Talk? I thought Alpha Harley needed me.”

His cheeks turn a shade of red as he avoids my gaze. Is this some kind of sick joke? He’s been distant, but never cruel.

He mumbles something I can’t quite catch, fidgeting under my gaze. A smile creeps onto my face. Is he nervous?

Suppressing a chuckle, I lead him up the stairs and down a narrow hallway to a private room.

The room is small, filled with floor-to-ceiling shelves holding a mix of books and bins of pens, pencils, paints, and other supplies. My mother created this room. She believed art was a good outlet for the pack, a way to cope with their problems.

But no one ever uses it. Whitetail only cares about strength. Still, I keep it stocked in honor of her dream.

It’s my favorite room in the main house, a sanctuary from the chaos of the pack where I can be myself.

I take a seat, waiting for him to start. He paces back and forth.

Is he nervous because he’s going to reject me? I grip the edge of the couch, trying to steady myself.

If he rejects me, I won’t react. I’ll be strong. I won’t embarrass myself or my family.

“I’m not sure what to say,” he mumbles.

“I’m sorry. I promise whatever you say, I’ll listen and respect your decision.” I push my worry aside, trying to appear warm and sincere.

I’ve become adept at suppressing my feelings for the sake of others. Why should this time be any different?

Simon’s eyes, a captivating blend of brown hues with a hint of gold around the iris, draw me in instantly. Their hypnotic glow almost makes me forget the butterflies in my stomach.

His gaze meets mine, and I notice his breathing slow down. As he releases a deep sigh, my heart skips a beat.

He takes a seat across from me, his voice dropping to a slower pace. “You don’t need to apologize. I know I’ve been acting strange. You might not know this, but rogues don’t discuss fated mates. I didn’t even know they existed until Harley found Jackson. I’m not sure what this all means, but… I think we might be mates.”

I’m taken aback. How could he not know about fated mates? It’s one of the most beautiful aspects of being a werewolf.

No wonder he’s been acting so odd since we met. “I think so too,” I respond.

His pupils widen, and he bites his lip. Is he surprised that I agree? Did he think he was imagining things?

Fated mates are as natural to a wolf as any other emotion: fear, worry, joy. You know when you’re experiencing it, even if you don’t know what to do with it.

“Um… well… I don’t know what comes next,” he admits, looking away.

“If you’re not ready or don’t want this, I understand. I believe in the power of the mate bond, but I’ll understand if…”

“No, no, that’s not what I mean. It probably should be. But I don’t think it’s what I’m… My wolf…” His gaze flits around, his eyes filled with panic and uncertainty.

“I feel drawn to you. But I’m a rogue. I don’t even know what I’m doing next…”

This is a side of Simon I haven’t seen before, not the aloof and sarcastic exterior he usually presents. He’s nervous, vulnerable, even scared.

He’s opening up to me, letting me see beneath the surface. Part of him wants me, but it hurts to hear that another part thinks he should reject me.

A heavy feeling settles in my chest, but I push it aside. We can’t both fall apart.

I pull my mask back up, lean forward, and gently intertwine my fingers with his. I offer him a reassuring smile. “How about we start by just getting to know each other? No expectations or promises. Maybe it will help us figure out what’s next.”

His eyes widen as he looks up at me, and he nods without saying a word.

As we continue to gaze at each other, he starts to fidget again, his cheeks turning a shade of red. He glances toward the door, then back at me, before whispering, “But what do we tell the pack? Your family hates rogues. If they find out… I don’t think Harley will let them do anything, but…”

His voice trails off, his face etched with worry.

A sense of dread fills me, making my stomach drop. I know what he’s afraid of, even without him finishing his sentence.

My father will kill him. He would never allow me to mate with a rogue.

What are we going to do?