I slowly cleaned Grandfather's bedroom, the room now mine; according to Grandfather many years ago. Everything was now mine. I was not sure I wanted it. Not without Grandfather here. I tilled the small vegetable garden we had created together, cleaning the shed where our game was caught. I spent weeks upon weeks just going through the motion of chores. Every day, the loneliness would start to overwhelm me. I would run in my wolf, the feel of the breeze through my fur made me feel like I could breathe.

At only three full moons, I could not take it anymore. I needed to get away. From the house, from everything that reminded me of Grandfather. I shifted into my wolf, traveling far north. Hours passed the Overlook. I couldn't even bear to visit Grandfather and Grandmother. My heart ached something awful in my chest.

I came to a stop, surrounded by only wilderness. The gentle quiet of the breeze through the trees. I shut my eyes, wishing for the pain to leave me. I breathed deeply through my snout, my nose wiggling. There was a scent, a grotesque scent, one Grandfather only introduced me to once. He had called it something. What was it?

The trees to my side shook, a beast far larger than me appearing. It's beady black eyes looked at me, its large nostrils flaring before scrunching up its muzzle. The creature stood on its hind paws, standing at least half the height of the towering trees. It roared, the very trees quaking, and it charged me.

It was a fight for survival. A fight that I had never been in. The fight released something within me. I fought with my claws and teeth, giving as good as I got. With a blinding sweep of its massive paw, I could no longer see out of my right eye; all I could feel was the blood seeping from the wound. I roared in a blinding rage at the beast. We were both heaving in breaths. Claw and teeth marks had blood dripping from both our wounds. Pieces of flesh hung from our pelts. We were both alone and angry. Perhaps that is why, when the beast turned and left it was out of respect for a creature that was just like him.

I stumbled for three days back to the house. I washed my wounds like Grandfather had taught me, trying weakly to wrap the ones I could reach by myself. When I lifted my head to look at myself in the mirror, my fingers traced the two scars that ran over my right eye. My eye looked like grandfather's had. Though I had lost half my sight, it felt like I had a piece of Grandfather. I touched my hand to my chest.

"You are here, Grandfather," I whispered, "I will not do again. Promise."

I was very, very weak for days. It was difficult to move because of my wounds. The mirror within the bathroom was the only thing that could show me the extent of the wounds to the parts of my body I could not see well. Grandfather warned that even strong wolves can still get something called infections. I knew though, that I had to train to get strong once more. The blindness could not be a weakness, for Grandfather never let it be a weakness for him. I promised my Grandfather and I had a duty to protect my mate.

I could not leave this world without having even met them yet. I did not think of who they were often, knowing that hoping for love from anyone who was not Grandfather was a hopeless endeavor.

There was a flicker of hope that hid in my heart from time to time, but it came and went like the fall and rise of the moon.

☆

Only scraps of clothing covered my person. A tattered old shirt with ripped and frayed shorts. My body was covered in bruises and cuts, having survived another beating. The next one would be at the loss of my innocence; the part I was saving for my mate. Though I had been forced to give pleasure to vile men, my virginity had not been taken from me yet, for I hadn't been old enough. They no longer thought so.

Once the warriors of the pack return from a small scuffle on the boarder, they would claim my body for themselves. I could not bear such a disgusting thing. I was not theirs. I would claw their eyes out, having already been beaten for nearly biting off one of the warriors stiff rods. They tried to beat my willpower from my body like the other omega they deemed was theirs to torture. I was not like them. I was not weak. I learned long ago that praying would not save me from evil like them. I had to save myself and tonight was the night.

My wrists were chained together with heavy metal cuffs, along with my ankles, as I laid in the cells of the packhouse. A metal collar was around my throat with spikes facing inward, pressing against my delicate arteries; they pulsed dangerously against the spikes. Blood had already dripped from my neck, making me panic when I had woken up to the pressure around my throat.

The moon had just started to crawl its way into the center of the sky. The warriors would be back soon. Hearing the quiet within the cells, I opened my mouth, spitting out the key to my chains into my hand. I hid it under my tongue or pressed against my cheek once I had stolen it. Vile men get easily distracted.

My fingers fumbled with the key until the lock snapped open to my wrists. I nearly sobbed in relief, holding in the sound as I unlocked my ankles. I knew the key to the collar likely belonged to the head warrior who wanted to claim me first. A key I would not risk my life to get. I would figure out a way to remove it on my own.

Sneaking along the near pitch black corridors of the pack house, I could hear the soft laughter of the beta women. They thought they were so much better than omegas. All the wolves in the packhouse did. The only other omega in the pack had been killed by accident. She had gone into heat causing the many alphas in the pack to go into a frenzy. I shuttered at the thought, bile crawling in my throat. I had been able to steal suppressants so the warriors would not think I had my heat yet. I would fight tooth and nail to hide such a dangerous secret.

I had tried to escape from the pack for years, but had never been successful. The current alpha had grown weaker with age, his son almost ready to fight him for leadership as was his right. The position of alpha of a pack needed to be earned. Once his son became alpha, there would be no chances of escape. His son was nothing but meticulous. This would likely be my only chance of escape.

My feet were already trained to be more silent than even a whisper. I was biting my lip so hard, blood had spilled from the cut to my lip. I went through the barracks, knowing that would be the only way to have a free shot of running in the opposite direction of the scouting party that had left earlier. It was also the most dangerous, not knowing who would be there. I heard the low laughs of two betas walking through, diving behind a basket of dirty washrags; the warriors used them to wipe off their sweat from training.

The scent from the rags would hopefully cover my own. I held my breath as they passed by the basket without a second glance. My heart was thudding behind my ribcage, keeping to the shadows of the walls. I peeked my head out of the exit to the barracks, seeing an open field. I could feel my wolf stir beneath my skin at the closeness of freedom. I couldn't shift though. The damn collar around my throat would surely choke my wolf form, killing me.

I stepped out into the cool air, barely feeling it on my skin thanks to the adrenaline coursing through my veins. I turned my head up at the packhouse to see if any of the lights were on. Hissing in pain at the brush of the spikes cutting into my skin, I quickly looked forward. No lights were on except for the kitchen which faced the other side of the packhouse. The she-wolves were likely filling their bellies to their hearts content.

In a mad burst of adrenaline, I ran. I couldn't feel the cuts on my feet. Only the tightness in my chest, my heart nearly bursting through. I made it to the tree line and kept running. I ignored the whips of tree branches against my face or body. The moon had grown higher in the night sky. I needed to run faster.

Exhaust was coaxing me to stop. Telling me to rest. The moon had started to set to make way for the sun to dust the horizon. I hadn't heard any howls of the warriors chasing after me as I ran through the night. I wouldn't be naïve to think that no one was chasing after me; I didn't have the luxury.

For days I ran, only nodding off once causing myself to jolt awake in a panic. I ran through icy rivers and rolled in caking mud. I must have run a hundred miles, but I couldn't stop, not yet. In the back of my mind I wondered if I would ever have the chance to stop again. Nowhere was safe. No pack would take in a rogue. For that is what I was now. I deserted my pack, changing my title to rogue. I didn't care though. Anything was better than being used over and over by different men and even women. I had sobbed, knowing I was dirtied for my mate; if I even had one. I still had my purity, but would they even care?

I didn't know what day it was, but I was thirsty and starving. I was never allowed to join the pack in hunts or to even help any she-wolves in the kitchen. I had secretly taught myself how to cook, for that was the only way I could have fed my constantly rumbling stomach. My knowledge was fair, having been taught alongside the other pack children until my scent had changed to that of an omega. Everything changed that day.

I stumbled between arching trees, my feet aching. My eyesight blurred every now and again. My clothes barely covered my body, being of no help against chilling wind that swooped down from the north. I could feel how dry and chapped my lips were, blood ready to spill from them if I was cut with a numbingly sharp gust.

I don't know how much longer I could travel. How much more I had to endure. A wind rustled between the trees and along with it, a scent that had my drooping eyelids open a little wider. The scent smelled of sweet pine, sweeter than the pine trees that surrounded me. It also smelled of firewood.

My feet froze, my head popping up when before me stood a behemoth of a man. His skin was tanned from what I would have assumed was from hours of working outside. His hair was as dark as night. He was taller than me by at least a foot, his muscles corded and skin marked with scars. He was only wearing a tight pair of pants, not even wearing a shirt or shoes. He had broad shoulders and thick arms that were carrying heavy looking logs. A sharp jawline with a five o'clock shadow and pale lips having opened in surprise. His right eye had two scars that ran over the milky orb. The other eye was a dark amber that smoldered into my very being. My heart squeezed in my chest at his other eye being hurt before realizing, this was my mate.

The heavy logs in his arms tumbled to the ground. Something then released inside my soul, inside my mind. It felt as though the weight of the world was suddenly lifted from my shoulders as my eyes connected with his amber one.

My body collapsed.

☆

It was the smell of firewood and the scent of warm broth that aroused me from my sleep. I breathed the scent in deeper, feeling a warmth in my belly from the scent of sweet pine filling my being. My heavy eyelids lifted, my fingers feeling the soft touch of a cotton bedspread. It did not smell too strongly of any kind of soap. I pushed myself up, looking around the small bedroom I was in. There was a wardrobe to the side, next to a window that was letting in the late afternoon rays of sunshine. A dresser was against one wall and another small door was cracked open, revealing part of a bathroom.

I looked out of the main room door, seeing an old but comfortable looking couch. Many books were piled high to one side and I could just see the makings of a window sill you could sit in. I was still wearing my tattered clothes, berating myself for having fainted. I was about to leave the warmth of the bed to explore my surroundings, my breath suddenly hitching.

The massive man I had encountered in the woods was heading towards me. If I was anyone else I would have ran even farther away, his scent overpowering, it made my knees shake. The reason I didn't though was my mind kept whispering mate, over and over. As far as I could tell he hadn't done anything to me. I cocked my head to the side suddenly, realizing he wasn't even looking at me.

He was delicately holding a bowl with a spoon within his massive hands. He was taking careful, slow steps, shoulders hunched and tongue peeking out of the corner of his mouth in concentration. He shuffled into the room, the sight making me want to chuckle. The man's head suddenly popped up, probably feeling my stare. Neither of us said anything as we looked at each other. The man, my mate, shuffled closer to me, reaching his hands out to me. My stomach rumbled at the smell, graciously taking the bowl from him. It looked like a meat stew with carrots, potatoes and onions. I hungrily dived in before coughing a little, pressing my hand to my throat.

My eyes widened in shock. The collar was gone! It was metal like the chains I was in. I looked up at the towering man whose hands were fluttering, looking unsure at what to do.

"It's okay," my voice croaked. The man's eye widened at me, darting down to look at where my hand was pressed against my throat. There was a scowl that marred his handsome features, my stomach fluttering at the idea that he was angry at a collar being on me. His large hand came closer to my neck, my entire body freezing. His callused finger gently caressed a bruise I was sure. The sparks had me gasping in surprise, my body jerking away from his hand. The man's head snapped up, bringing his hand against his chest as though my reaction surprised him too.

His eyes turned downcast, cradling his hands against his chest. He quickly left the room, shoulders hunched. My heart lurched in my chest, making guilt eat away at my stomach. Though he was a large man, how many others had reacted with only fear towards him? How many had likely shunned him or ran away?

I felt so guilty, having had the thought of running away too. I continued to eat my stew, careful of swallowing thanks to the tenderness of my throat. The stew was bland since it didn't have any spices, but it was the best thing I had tasted in who knew how long. I set the bowl down on the small side table, a dark head of hair peeking around a corner. I stretched my head out farther to catch his eye, seeing his amber eye widen at me. The man hurried back into the room, reaching out his hands holding a knitted shirt and a pair of pants. I took them from him, noticing how he quickly removed his hands; as though making sure he didn't touch me. It hurt my heart.

He grabbed the empty bowl, looking at me and holding it out. I think he was silently asking me if I wanted more. I was about to shake my head no, but there was such a worry in his deep golden brown eye. I nodded my head, seeing him perk up and hurry away.

I shook my head at how cute he was. Then I froze at realizing that I thought he was cute. I flushed a little, easing my tattered shirt off and replacing it with the new one. It was old and used, but it was far better. I could feel it giving me some warmth. I slid my tattered shorts off as well, pulling on the pants from beneath the covers.

The dark haired man returned, his bulk almost not fitting through the doorway. He was just as careful with my second bowl of stew making my heart fill. His head remained downcast though, turning away quickly again with his hands wringing together against his chest. I bit my lip, feeling bad. I didn't mean to make it seem like I was scared of him. It was just a natural reaction to someone's alpha scent overwhelming my omega one. I was pretty sure it would have been equally as overwhelming to any other werewolf as well. Not to mention, with the abuse from my old pack, the large man's hand coming close to my throat startled me badly.

After I finished the second bowl of stew, my eyelids grew heavy. I could hear the crackling and scent of firewood burning, a fireplace further in the other room I assumed. The heat was blanketing me even more than the comforter I was placed under. Before I knew it, I fell asleep.

The whack of an axe woke me from my slumber. I rubbed my bleary eyes, looking around quickly once I remembered where I was. I needed to clarify with that man that I was not scared of him. That if he was okay having me, I would love to be mates with him. We could figure out the little details later.

I hurriedly went to the bathroom, to relieve myself, realizing that the only light in the bathroom came from a very small window. There was thankfully running water within the house. I stripped off my clothes, letting the warm water soak into my dirty skin. It didn't seem to get very hot, but that was more than okay. I sniffed at a bar of soap that was in a small dish within the shower. It didn't smell of anything, wondering if my mate had sensitive skin to perfumes; though his natural scent already made my head fuzzy. Either way, I washed my dark wavy hair of the dirt and grime. There was a lone towel off to the side as I dried off with it. I may or may not have purred when it surrounded me, smelling heavily of my mate. My eyelids fluttered at the intoxicating scent, making me burrow within the towel. I snapped out of it a second later, flushing at acting like a pre-pubescent wolf.

I hurriedly put on the clothes that the man had given me. There was a wooden comb off to the side and a mirror in the bathroom, allowing me to comb my hair; it had been so long and it took me long minutes to comb out the knots. It was getting a little too long and I would like to cut it soon. I made my way out of the bathroom feeling cleaned and refreshed. Now it was time to explore. I heard the whack of an axe again, making my way out of the bedroom.

There was the couch I had seen already, but there was also a cozy looking armchair next to it. The couch was directly across from a fireplace with a large bookcase next to it. There were far too many books to have fit in it, piles of books on the ground by it. I purred at the small alcove making up a seat in front of a large window that faced outside. It looked like the perfect place to read while drinking a warm beverage. I had been allowed to learn with the other pack children until I had turned 16, so I knew how to read well enough. The fact I hadn't been allowed to read at all after I presented as an omega was disheartening.

I shook my head of the memory, catching a glimpse of my mate. I knew I would get distracted if I saw him, so I continued my exploration of the house.

I walked passed the wooden front door and into what looked like a dining room. It had a small table with two chairs around it, looking to be made of the same wood and equally worn down. Two candles were on the table, convincing me that there really was no electricity in the house. Which was odd in this day and age. An open doorway lead me to a small kitchen. One wall had a counter the length of it, with a sink in the middle; a small window was above the sink. Two cupboards were above the counter.