Not-So-Fated Mates

Chapter 29: The Rogue Problem

Drake POV

After taking a long run in the forest, Drake sat on his furry rump in a nearby cave he’d found, huffing in agitation. The last phone call with his Gamma had not been good news. Not only were there more rogue sightings, but his most skilled scout had returned with news that, while the rogues gave off the appearance of being in the area for unrelated reasons, there was reason to believe they were working in sync.

The first reason was because, although they made a show of leaving the area, they had all managed to camp out at various spots about five to ten miles away. That was unusual to say the least. For one thing, Drake’s reputation as a merciless rogue-killer usually kept rogues at least fifty miles away from his territory, and that was usually only when passing through. They hadn’t known a single rogue to camp out anywhere remotely near their borders in years. Much less a lot of them. Had it been one or even a couple rogues, they all would’ve assumed they simply didn’t know the danger that lay so near them.

Then there was the fact that none of them seemed to bump into each other. Of course, it could be simple happenstance, but Drake didn’t believe in coincidences, at least not of this magnitude. The scout was estimating their current numbers at at least fifty. They did move about as normal rogues did, with only one to, at maximum, five in a group, but the overall numbers were just ridiculous. And, if this were somehow just a random occurrence, with that many rogues, there had to be times where they ran into each other. Instead, it was like they knew where the others were ahead of time, and were purposely avoiding each other. Which was probably what was going on, if he was being honest with himself. They most likely were slowly gathering to prepare an attack.

They’d done well in hiding themselves, if Drake hadn’t had a feeling two days ago that told him to order the scout to check things out, they would still just be wondering why a bunch of random rogues were passing by. They’d have no idea that those rogues they kept seeing weren’t actually leaving the area, but staying close by.

He growled at the thought that those damn rogues thought they could launch an attack on his pack. Had he not shown them, time and time again, that it wasn’t wise to f**k with him? And now that he’d been away for days, they thought they could muster their numbers in secrecy and seize the opportune moment?

Although, that in itself brought up more questions. How did they know he was gone? Other than Howling Moon, no other pack should know he’d left his territory, and he was pretty sure he’d never allowed rogues near enough to spy on Black Shadow. It was possible they had a spy good enough to manage to go undetected near his territory, but it wasn’t likely. His warriors were highly trained and the trackers and his Shadow Guard, the group of warriors he’d trained specifically in things such as espionage, should have been able to detect a spy, flush them out, and take care of the problem while extracting information on who they were working for and what they were trying to find out. In fact, they’d caught every spy ever sent by any other pack’s alpha without an issue.

No, there was something he wasn’t seeing. His thoughts flashed to Isaiah, and he wondered. The boy would have known he was here, he was a rogue and there was something about him that rubbed Drake the wrong way. The problem with that theory, though, was the fact that someone would have already had to know he’d planned on leaving the pack before planting the boy. Thus, even if the boy was a spy, he wasn’t the entirety of the problem. And if he was going to take care of this little spy problem, he had to clean it all out at once.

He growled again, his agitation only rising with every thought. Whoever had planned all of this, he had to give them credit. They’d managed to put him into a horrendously sticky situation, and it wouldn’t be as easy as it normally was to figure it out.

He lay down, resting his furry head on his big paws. There was no help for it, he had to go back to his pack. Yes, his warriors could possibly fend off the threat without him, but he was the alpha. He had to be there to keep his pack safe. Not to mention, he also had to figure out if one of his own pack members was giving information to whomever was leading these rogues. He still didn’t understand who could possibly manage to unite the very wolves who preferred not to be under any form of leadership, but, instead, make their own way in the world. Rogues weren’t famous for being able to work together, much less take orders, and in all the history of shifters, there’d only been groups larger than ten a handful of time. Even then, they tended to disband or kill each other off in a mere couple of years.

He sighed, his tongue flicking out to lick his nose. This was all too much. His head was aching from all the bullshit. Hopefully, Layla could help him get rid of that headache before he left. He needed to get to his pack as soon as possible, but, damn it, he could at least have one more night with her before they had to say goodbye, right?

His heart ached at the very thought that he’d have to part from her side, but he chose to ignore that. They’d stay friends, stay in touch, and that would be enough. It wasn’t as if he loved the woman. For f**k’s sake, he couldn’t love like that anymore. Jess had ruined that. They were friends and that was enough. Right?