He Is Mine

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A New Beginning

I laid there for hours on the dusty dirty floor of the abandoned cabin until the birds started chirping. There was a beaten-up old couch left in the corner of the room that Zia slept on. She’d finally calmed down from her nightmares after I let my wolf push against her mind to calm her down.

When everything first happened, we were completely locked out. They were both so taken by the fear of their nightmares that we couldn’t breakthrough. But as the years went on, Zia’s wolf was able to heal with our help. But Zia...

She couldn’t heal.

She bore the mark of her abuser every day. She held a psychical reminder on her neck from those painful days. She’s in constant pain from the mark as it burned in her neck from her body rejecting the mark that wasn’t her mates.

This is a wound I couldn’t heal.

Sighing, I get up off the floor, careful not to wake Zia and make my way outside. I remember seeing a small stream of clean water not too far from the cabin when we got here. Might as well freshen up before we start a new day.

We spent the past two days travelling, trying to get out of the last town that was taken over by a pack. We just needed to buy a few clothes and some food but the first wolf we ran into wasn’t so kind. We used our powers to knock him out before we ran out of the store through the back. I felt bad about not paying for our stuff but being labelled a rogue comes with a risk. You’re forever seen as a feral, deadly wolf that will kill the second it gets a chance.

Rogues are able to be detected easily because they smell different from pack wolves. They don’t have the smell of a pack on them. They usually have a rotten smell to them. Build up of dirt, sweat and blood linger on them making them stand out.

Though we are rogues, we bathe every chance we get and always clean ourselves. We smell more of the woods than anything else. But pack wolves that smell us without a pack will always group us together with the bad rogues. So, they always attack us unprovoked.

It takes a toll on our sanity especially when we didn’t have any other choice but to become rogues. It was either I lost my sister forever, or we become rogues.

As I sat crouched down on the river bed on my knees, I cupped my hands together and scooped up the cool crystal water. After a few splashes to my face, I finally feel a bit more energized.

I sit down and place my arms across my propped-up knees as I open up the temporary phone I had. Courtesy of the pack wolf that tried to attack us two days ago. We were in desperate need of a phone and it was the only one available at the time. So, I thought fuck it.

The internet still works on it, so I scan through the local wolf news on the secret website. Humans are unable to find the website unless they are a wolf or supernatural themselves. The werewolves that work in the governments all around the world unanimously agreed we need a news outlet of our own to get the news out.

Which comes in handy now when the new countrywide policy was just announced.

“All rogue wolves under the age of 18 MUST attend schooling. You are legally required by the new law to attend the nearest school. That includes packless lone wolfs. Any and all wolves will be fined and charged if they do not comply with the new law.”

I sigh and pause the video, looking out at the forest surrounding me.

We could have skipped this shit but I had to get fake ID’s and papers made for us. It was the only way I was able to sign up for this Easy To Apply credit card. I used it to pay the bond and first few weeks rent of this little apartment I found in the next town over.

I couldn’t stand not having a safe place to live anymore. I couldn’t stand the guilt that I was holding Zia back from living her life. She doesn’t remember anything that happened that day but the more we run into rogues and her PTSD gets triggered, the more she remembers.

I pocket the phone and go to stand up but my reflection in the water stops me. There was a dirt mark on my face from sleeping on the floor that didn’t wash off. I dip my hand into the water and use the rippling reflection as a mirror to clean my face. Once I finish, I find myself staring at the guy looking back at me. My bright almost glowing aqua blue eyes that match Zia’s look tired, but the cold splashes of water have erased any evidence of a bad night’s sleep. I look at my hair, studying the tangled blonde mess looks like a bird’s nest. I run my hands through it, trying to tame the blonde ashy locks. Then I trace the jagged X looking scar on my forehead.

The scar left from the first rogue I fought when I was 16.

That was the first time I ever killed someone. We were only 16 and no matter how much we tried to talk to the rogue, he wasn’t having it. His wolf was looking at Zia drooling like she was dinner. Zia was and still is, tiny. There was no way she could have fought that rogue or any of the ones that proceeded the first. That was the day we decided to leave Russia. We were constantly on edge thinking he was always just around the corner. There was always that fear in the back of our minds that maybe the next rogue would kill me and take Zia back to him.

Rogues are notorious mercenaries.

Part of the reason they are so feared is that the alphas who don’t care about their souls hire them to do their dirty work. And I was so tired of having to fight off rogues. But I’d do it every day of my life if it meant that Zia would be safe.

There are other scars littered on my body but I don’t really care. My appearance isn’t my top priority. My main goal now is to make sure we are safe.

Walking back to the cabin I open the door and walk over to the sleeping body. I chuckle at the little bit of drool that has started leaking out of Zia’s parted mouth.

“Zi...Zia wake up.” I say as I shake her lightly. She pouts and frowns at me as she rolls away, giving me her back.

I laugh louder at her antics and shake her again. This time a bit harder and with more force. I tell her about the new laws and how we have to go to school. I can feel her worry and fear, but also excitement. We both loved school before everything happened. English was our favourite class. We loved learning how to speak English and I’m glad we loved it.

Living in America and being able to speak English and be understood has helped us so much. Sometimes we slip up and will ask humans for directions in our mother tongue and they would ignore us.

I tell her about a school that I found in the next town over and how it’s on a neutral zone. Meaning we won’t be trespassing any pack grounds.

I pocket the last few protein bars we have and walk out the door. As I wait for Zia to get dressed, I breathe in deep, letting the fresh air fill my lungs as I expel any bad thoughts that always creep up on me. The guilty thoughts.

But I can’t help but feel weird. My wolf is almost prancing around in my head excited. He’s more ready for this next adventure than he has ever been.

Zia steps out the door in her ripped black tights and an old black crop top. She looks so badass with her new half sleeve tattoo she got a few weeks ago. A man had gone for a run through the woods when he came across us. We could smell he was a pack wolf and I was ready to fight him. But for once he told us it was okay and that he didn’t want to hurt us.

Zia and I shifted back to our human forms once we felt safe. Naked as the day we were born, she stood behind me covering herself from the man in front of us. He immediately took his jacket off and gave it to Zia. After I agreed it was safe to do, she took the jacket off him and put it on. He asked us how old we were and was shocked that we were rogues so young. He said he knew we were different from the ones he’s come across before.

He took us back to his work which turned out to be a tattoo shop. He was a tattoo artist which explained why he was covered in tattoos. He gave us something to eat and a place to stay for the night. We gladly accepted, and as we looked around his store, we found a photo of him with a beautiful woman. He told us that was his mate and that she had just passed away when a drunk human driver hit her. We could feel his hurting soul and one look at each other, and we knew what we had to do. We sat him down and held each other’s hands as we sent him to the moon.

This is what the moon Goddess told us we were born to do. It was the first time we actually got to do her work and it felt amazing.

When he came back, he started crying. He was so grateful that he could see his mate one last time and could say goodbye to her properly. He wanted to repay us any way he could, and this time we didn’t have to look at each other to know what we wanted.

A tattoo.

I mean come on; any 17-year-old given the chance would get one.

Zia got a half sleeve done. From her right shoulder down to her elbow were beautiful black and grey skull tattoos with deep red roses littered through and around them. She said it symbolises our work. Bringing beauty to death. I, on the other hand, opted for a smaller tattoo. Four little bluebirds flying across my collarbone. Symbolising our journey so far.

We were still in flight, looking for a place to call home.

And somewhere deep down inside me told me this next place is the one.

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