A Rogue's Choice
Author
Michelle Torlot
Reads
3.0M
Chapters
32
Blood Moon Territory
KATIE
I tugged my beanie down over my ears, hiding my fiery red hair beneath it.
I flipped up the collar of my jacket, trying to trap some warmth. My hands dove into my jeans pockets, searching for loose change.
As I stepped into the fast food place, my mind was set on one thing: a cheeseburger, and maybe a few minutes of warmth.
It was January, and even though there was no snow, the temperature had taken a nosedive.
I was relieved to see no line as I approached the counter. I looked around, grateful that no one had spotted me, except for the boy behind the counter.
He looked at me with fear in his eyes. I could smell it too, cutting through the greasy burger scent that filled the air.
“Cheeseburger,” I said, keeping my tone flat.
“You shouldn’t be here!” he hissed, glancing nervously at the empty tables behind me.
“You know you’re in Blood Moon territory,” he whispered, his voice shaking.
“I don’t want any trouble!” he added quickly.
I shot him a glare. “You won’t have any if you give me a damn cheeseburger!” I growled.
He hurriedly grabbed a burger from under the grill, topped it with a slice of cheese, and waited for it to melt. He then stuffed it into a bun and placed it in a styrofoam box.
“Onions!” I growled.
He rolled his eyes, opened the box, and quickly added some onions. He closed the box and pushed it across the counter.
I snatched it up and started to walk away.
“Hey! You didn’t pay!” he called out.
I turned and smirked at him. “Guess it’s not your lucky day, alpha boy?” I could smell his scent. He was definitely an alpha’s pup.
I paused for a moment, checking if he was going to make a fuss. He didn’t. I knew he wouldn’t, the spineless jerk.
Pack werewolves only picked fights when they had the numbers. Rogues, on the other hand, didn’t take any crap.
Being Mason Ridgeway’s daughter didn’t come with many perks, but scaring off cocky pack pups was one of them.
He’d recognized me the moment I walked in. I’d tried to hide it, just like my father always insisted. Thankfully, he was the only werewolf around.
Still, I was in trouble for two reasons. One, I wasn’t supposed to leave the house we were hiding in. Two, the snotty pup would probably tell his alpha daddy.
I munched on the burger as I made my way back to the house. The streets were quiet, and I wasn’t being followed. Once I finished eating, I tossed the container.
When I reached the house, I pushed the door open and walked in.
My father glared at me with his deep blue eyes. His dark brown hair was a mess. We didn’t look much alike, except maybe our tempers.
“Where the hell have you been?” he growled.
I smirked at him, “Out!”
I started toward one of the rooms, my usual sleeping spot.
But before I could even reach the door, he grabbed me, spun me around, and slapped me across the face.
The force of the blow sent me sprawling to the floor.
“I told you not to leave this house!” he growled, his eyes flashing black for a moment.
I touched my lip and wiped away the blood that had started to trickle from the cut his blow had caused.
I glared at him and hissed, “And I told you I was hungry!”
I’ve never been one to back down. I always had a smart comeback, and I always paid the price. Today was no different.
Before I could even blink, he grabbed me by the throat and slammed me against the wall. He yanked off my hat and tossed it to the floor.
My long red hair, which had been tucked up inside, cascaded around my shoulders.
He released my throat and grabbed my hair, yanking my head back. It felt like a thousand needles were stabbing into my skull. But I refused to cry or make a sound.
I knew better than to fight back; the more I resisted, the worse it would get.
His eyes narrowed as he stared at me. My nostrils flared in anger, and my breathing quickened.
I could feel my heart pounding in my chest. He would smell my fear, and that would only make things worse.
“You’re just like your mother!” he hissed.
When he raised his other hand, I flinched slightly. He smirked at me. He was a sadistic bastard, even to his own daughter.
Claws sprouted from his fingers as his eyes turned completely black.
I whimpered as he dragged a claw across my throat, just enough to make me feel it but not break the skin.
Then he dragged it across my cheek, deeper this time. Pain exploded on my face, and I felt blood start to seep from the cut he had made.
“You better watch yourself, Katie, or you might just end up like her!” he growled.
I felt bile rise in my throat, but I swallowed it back down. He smirked and let me go.
I knew exactly what he meant. I wouldn’t turn into a beautiful and sensitive young woman, like my mother had been; my red hair mirrored hers, as did my hazel eyes. He meant I would end up dead.
He’d made me watch when he killed her. She’d had enough of being a rogue and found a pack that would take her and me. She was running from my father.
But we didn’t get far. He called it the ultimate betrayal, and the ultimate betrayal needed the ultimate punishment.
One of the other rogues had held me tight, forcing me to watch as my father’s clawed hands plunged into my mother’s chest and pulled out her still-beating heart.
That was three years ago; I was only fourteen then. I still sometimes had nightmares, especially when my father threatened me with the same fate.
Before he killed my mother, I had been a normal young girl. Despite never having a permanent home, my mother had tried to give me some sort of stability.
But all that changed when he killed her. I became a hardened rogue. Even when he hit me or worse, I never cried, not anymore.
The innocent girl I once was had been buried deep within me, never to see the light of day again.
Weakness was a luxury I couldn’t afford. I remembered my mother’s pleas to my father, her apologies falling on deaf ears. What good had it done her?
As I made my way to the bedroom, I heard Terence, one of my father’s rogue buddies, snicker. “I’ll teach her some manners!” He said, a smirk playing on his lips.
A chill ran down my spine. Terence was a creep. His leering gaze was enough to make my stomach churn.
“Touch my daughter and I’ll rip your heart out, just like I did her mother,” my father threatened.
I could smell Terence’s fear as I stepped into the room, then my father’s voice was directed at me.
“Disappear tonight. I’m having a meeting!”
Meetings were code for a bunch of testosterone-fueled rogues getting drunk. Not a great situation for an unmated female like me.
It also meant another killing spree was on the horizon.
I couldn’t believe he’d do this here. The Blood Moon Pack was the strongest in the country.
But rogues didn’t care about that; they attacked without a second thought.
Maybe I was more like my mother. Even though I was born a rogue, I couldn’t understand their need for senseless killing.
It was futile. All it did was anger the other alphas. But I kept these thoughts to myself; if I voiced them, my father wouldn’t hesitate to kill me.
I glanced around the makeshift bedroom. It was more of a storage room with a mattress thrown in. I didn’t mind too much; it gave me some semblance of privacy.
I took off my coat, folded it up to use as a pillow, and settled down on the mattress. I gingerly touched my face.
Despite being a werewolf, I didn’t heal as quickly as the others. Maybe it was because they were adults. They never seemed to scar, but I did.
That didn’t stop him from being a sadistic jerk. He’d inflict pain on me if he thought I’d stepped out of line.
I didn’t cry anymore, not even when I was alone; crying was a weakness my father wouldn’t tolerate. The last time I cried was when he killed my mother.
He’d sneered, calling me weak and pathetic, promising to toughen me up. I guess he succeeded.
My mother had told me he wasn’t always like this. I wasn’t sure. It seemed like all alphas were cut from the same cloth.
My father had been an alpha of a pack until another alpha decided he wanted the territory for himself.
When the alpha killed my father’s mate, his luna, my father escaped with a few warriors, vowing revenge. He met my mother shortly after.
He took my mother to his bed in an attempt to quell his anger. When she found out she was pregnant, she stayed with him. I often wondered how different my life would have been if she hadn’t.
I knew my mother loved me. I sometimes questioned whether my father did, but then, he wouldn’t have gone to such lengths to get us both back.
I’m sure he was disappointed when he found out I was a girl. He probably would have loved me more if I’d been a boy.
I heard boisterous laughter from the next room, my father’s and that of some other men. I knew sleep wouldn’t come easy tonight.
I was right, but not for the reason I thought. A couple of hours after the other rogues arrived, my father opened the bedroom door.
“Stay put,” he growled. “We’ll be back later.” He paused, then added, “If you leave while I’m gone, you’ll regret it!”
I nodded, but that wasn’t enough for him. He leaned over, the stench of alcohol on his breath, and grabbed my face roughly.
“Do you understand?!” he growled again.
“Yes, sir,” I mumbled.
He stood up and grunted.
A little while later, I heard the front door slam shut. I cautiously opened the bedroom door and peeked out. The house was empty, but the living room looked like a war zone.
Empty pizza boxes and bottles littered the floor. Some people really were animals.
I walked into the kitchen, found a somewhat clean tea towel, and soaked it with water. I cleaned the cut on my face as best as I could.
Figuring I might as well try to get some sleep, I headed back to the makeshift bedroom and lay down on the mattress. Closing my eyes, I slowly drifted into a light sleep.
