Chapter 2

(Chapter song ‘WARLORDZ' by Troyboi)

OLIVER ‘Interesting.’

After the tri color she wolf disappeared into the ravine, I turn back. Running back the way I came, I go over my encounter.

She stuck out. She didn’t seem to be part of this army we're fighting now and I confirmed it when she ran. I think she’s one that Michael hasn’t gotten his claws into yet.

These other Hyper rogues are brainwashed zombies.

Really all rogues are the walking dead, but these rogues are walking dead with rules and regulations. It’s fucking creepy and we need to shut it down.

That little rogue though, makes me wonder how she’s managed to avoid Michael when all the others draw to him like a magnet.

She didn’t smell like a regular rogue either. Usually, rogues will make a weak person puke multiple times, she didn’t. Her scent was off, but I can’t put my finger on it. All I know is it didn’t make me sick.

‘Oliver! Where the fuck did you go?!’

‘I’m coming! Calm your fucking tits!’

‘We're dying out here! Hurry your ass up!’

‘Freak on my fucking ass again and I’ll hand your fucking head to the first sick mutt I see! Get the fuck off my link!’

Stupid whiney bitches. Always fucking complaining. The only reason they complain is because they can’t hold their own in fucking fight.

Better get back there and show these girls how it’s done.

I run faster back to the battle. When I come out of the trees, the clearing is littered with bodies of dead rogues.

We don’t know where they come from except that they were from the north end of the country. Why they’re down here, I don’t fucking care. They’re dead no matter what the reason.

My wolf hits a rogue and tears at him. We both growl and bite at each others heads and neck. I wrestle him to the ground and grab his throat. He drowns in his own blood as I rip his throat out. I spit out the flesh and grab another one. My wolf shakes it so much it’s body trips others.

I separate his spine from his head and rip out his jugular.

Seeing a pile of the fuckers, I decide to join in. I grab one by the tail and throw him off. He gets to his feet and his red eyes stare me down.

‘Come on, mother fucker. What you got?’

My wolf lunges and he does too. He bites my head and the pain makes my wolf yelp.

‘You dickhead!’

My anger rises and I drive my canines into his skull. I pulling hard, I tear his head in half.

‘Didn’t see that coming, did ya, fucknut.’

I pull more off the pile and shred them. River pushes his way out. His wolf is bloodied and visibly exhausted.

‘Are you ok?’

‘I’m fine. Just come cuts.’

‘Good. Get back to work.’ I growl.

‘I’m Ops leader. I give the orders.’

‘Listen, shithead. Your orders mean dick right now. Now, just fucking survive.’

His wolf growls. ‘I’m your superior.’

My wolf has at least 3 inches on his and his head sits even higher.

‘When I have to save the superiors ass, you’ve lost all right to use that word. Especially around me. I know your shit, River. I don’t follow pussies.’ He eyes him with a snarl.

As River starts to get his back up, my wolf jumps over him. River ducks just as a rogue was about to land on his back. We collide in the air and I hit him so hard we both went behind him and landed on the ground. My wolf tore everything up as we rolled through the mud. I get the upper hand and break three of his legs. I take a moment to enjoy the rogue yelp loudly and try to get away me.

‘Real leaders don’t fuck around.’ I link River just as my wolf digs his teeth into the rogues flesh and ends him.

‘Units regroup! I repeat! Units regroup!’

My wolf shakes out the blood and dirt off his fur and looks around.

The battle outside of Red Rock is over. There’s a group of rogues that are shifted on their knees and cuffed in the middle of the battlefield. Everyone else is dead around them.

The clearing is a giant mass grave. The Ops soldiers are searching the bodies for our own and Bastian is calling Unit 1 to the communications tent.

I shift back and wipe the blood off my face with the back of my hand. I walk past a rogue who’s barely alive.

“Help…” He pleads. He’s struggling to move with a broken leg and the other is missing. He’s covered in all kinds of grime and in tears.

I stop and look down at him. I squat down beside him, tick the corners of my lips down and nod. “OK. I’ll help you.”

He screams as I forcibly grab his hair. I wrap my arm around his neck and snap in both directions. I drop his limp body and stand. “There…You’re helped.”

I walk up to the tents and find a wash station. Pouring water over my head, I silence the demons in my mind and center myself again. After a fight, my wolfs gets hyped. He can lose control if I don’t reel him in. Scrubbing my neck and hair, I wash the guts and gore off. I’ll need to shower for a solid week to get the stink of me.

“MICHAEL'S FUCKING DEAD! DEAD!”

I stand straight and cross my arms as I watch Luke Jackson storm out of the communications tent. I arch a brow when Jayson, Bastian and River follow him out.

“Luke, calm down. He doesn’t know what he’s doing.” River barks.

“What's going on?”

I turn my head slightly to see Cass join my side. “Jackson’s throwing a hissy fit because he doesn’t have balls.”

“What?” He scrunches his face at me.

“If he did, the rogues wouldn’t have attacked. They don’t feel threatened by him.” I shrug.

“Come on, Ollie. Rogues will attack no matter how big your balls are.” He shakes his head and crosses his arms.

I side eye him. “When you’re more than willing to kill a friend for breaking pack code, they feel that. Everyone feels that. You being a weak ass mother fucker will also be felt. You have a choice. Have them fear you, or have this.” I motion to the field.

“I DON’T CARE IF HE’S YOUR FRIEND, RIVER! I’M SHREDDING HIS ASS!” Luke yells.

“Huh. I can agree with that.” I nod.

“Oliver. You can command presence and not be a dick.” Cass arches a brow at me.

I face him, lean close and narrow my eyes. “You can’t command dick if you’re not willing to kill a friend for it. Anything else gets you that.” I motion to the pathetic rogues being lined up as prisoners of war. They’re dropped to their knees and guarded by Three soldiers.

I lean back, suck my teeth, give him a once over and walk away as he just blinks at me.

In times of war, your loyalties become fluid. A good leader knows this. If things are going south, you need to be able and willing to brutally interrogate your own goddamn mother to fix it. I have zero problems doing that. My pack will always be first. I make it well known that if you step of my border, you just signed your death certificate. Cass was saved from me because of his friends. He’d be dead now if I caught him in Eden. I scared the shit out of him, that’s enough to tell him that him and his mate aren’t welcome. I don’t forgive easily and I don’t fucking forget.

I walk into the storage tent where our packs are. I find mine and pull on a pair of grey sweats and a grey, zippered, hoodie tank. Leaving the tank open, I walk back to the wash station with a cloth and wash the blood and mud off my chest and stomach.

“Those are cool.”

I glance up to Wes wetting his head. He’s pointing to the four bullet scars in my abs.

“They didn’t feel cool.” I grumble.

He grins as he runs a towel across his arm and chest. “I guess not. How did you get them?”

I take my towel and throw it into the laundry collection on the side of the barrel. “I bumped into a guy.” I mutter.

Wes cinches his brow. “And he shot you for it?”

I tick my head. “Tearing his brother in half may have had something to do with it.”

His brows went up. “Uh…yeah…You’re lucky he didn’t kill you.”

I scrub my short, black hair. “He didn’t get a chance.”

Wes nods. “He ran.”

I straighten my hoodie and raise an eye to him. “I made him eat every bullet he had left.”

“Figuratively speaking.” Wes chuckles.

I step up to him and narrow my eyes. “No. Literally.”

He swallows as I arch a brow and walk away toward the communications tent.

Even if your guts are pouring blood, make sure you always get the last word. It’s what makes people realize they can’t cross you. You can’t just act tough, you need to prove it. I’ve proven it on several occasions over the years. Now, when any dumbass even thinks of trying shit with me, other people stop him to save his life.

The council huddle is furiously talking about the rogue problem by the time I get there.

“Bastian. When are we hunting Mikey’s ass down.” I grit as I join the circle of Alphas.

“We’re not hunting Mike’s ass. Not the way you want, Ollie.” River growls.

I side eye him. “This psychopath isn’t your friend, Riv.”

“There’s the pot calling the kettle black.” He sneers.

I raise my chin and bite the inside of my lip. “Having the balls to call shit out isn’t psychopathic. Doing the same things over and over and expecting a different result…is.” I eye them all. “Michael isn’t getting better. His fucking mate is dying because of it. Put the fucker down and we all have a much sunnier day.”

“OK. Oliver. Stand down.” Bastian crosses his arms and shakes his head.

“For once, I agree.” Luke growls. “This was a bold fucking move. Attack my pack?” He slams his fingers into his chest. “He’s got a set and I’m tearing them off!”

“It wouldn’t have happened if you were Alpha enough.” I say smugly.

He scowls. “What you say to me?”

“Okay…Luke…”

He steps up to me and looks up. I smirk as I look down on him. “You heard me. You mate has a bigger set than you.”

“Yeah, maybe I should bring you down to my level!!” He reaches for his gun in his wolf pack.

“WHOA!!”

Bastian and Jayson grab him. I don’t even flinch. I huff a chuckle and shake my head. “They know where the weak spots are, Jackson. They’re not threatened by you.”

“Let me go! I’ll show you fucking threatening!” He yells as he struggles against Bastian and Jayson.

“Oliver! Enough!” Bastian barks.

I shrug. “Just saying the truth. If Jackson’s too much of pussy to handle a bit of criticism. That’s on him.”

“I’ll show you who’s the pussy!”

He breaks free, rushes and swings at me, landing a solid punch to my jaw.

“LUKE!”

I take a single step back and pause. I place my fingers in my lip and pull back and see blood. I roll my head to him and narrow my eyes.

He points in my face. “You keep your mouth off my pack!!”

I lower my head, press my lips together and nod. He flares his eyes at me and I ball my fist. I swing hard and fast, landing a blow to his head, sending him to the ground with a massive thud.

“OLIVER!!!” Bastian shoves me back and I glare at him.

I wipe my busted lip and spit the blood that accumulating in my mouth. I look around him and meet Jackson’s eyes.

My lip threatens to curl. “I was going to let you have that punch.” I growl. “But then I noticed the drop of blood on my white hoodie. I’m sorry, but I couldn’t let that go.”

Bastian cinches his brow. “You punched him for a bloodstain?”

I rip his arms off and straighten my shirt. “Fashion is important.” I grumble. “I’ll never get this out.” I look at the small drop and flick my shirt.

Jayson leans in. “Actually, Sarah has some great tricks that might work.”

I glance at him then Bastian. “Text them to me.” I mumble.

“Will do.” He grins and taps my arm.

Bastian shakes his head. “Alright. Oliver, quit pushing buttons. Luke’s already stressed. He doesn’t need your help. We have a bunch of prisoners we need information from. I need that asap.”

I nod. “I’ll get it.”

He points in my face. “By the book, Ollie.”

“Your book…or mine.” I smirk.

I look them all over and walk to the transport trucks.

I stuff my hands in my pockets and get in line to load up.

I’ve already forgotten Luke and his fucking problems. What is now creeping into my mind is that small, tri colored wolf.

I turn my gaze to the treeline across the clearing and furrow my brow. I kind of wonder what she looks like under all that sick filth. I don’t why. Just curious, I guess. For some reason, I wanted to pin her down. I wanted to see her shift. I wanted to question why she was here. I mean, she doesn’t look special. In fact, she looked half dead. Severely skinny and dehydrated. The rage was ripe in her. I could see that. I could tell she was fighting some dark, deep seeded demons, but the sickness will do that.

Normally, I wouldn’t give a rats ass. Why do I feel almost sorry for this one? It’s not because she’s a she wolf. I’ve killed plenty of Rogue chicks. There’s something else. Like she doesn’t belong…anywhere.

Just before I enter the truck bed, I have one last, burning thought.

I hope I run into her again.