It takes me ten seconds to chuck on a jumper and grab my sword, carefully stalking towards the door like a predator would with its prey. Still mentally exhilarated from the sudden thump on the door, my hand tighten around the blade; so tightly that I feel every contraction and relaxation of my blood vessels.
My other opens the door, and what I expect to see is a heart broken Josh, or worse, a reincarnated version of Hunter. But neither of them are at the door.
Instead, a bright and stormy pair of azure eyes glare at me, filled with a charge of hatred.
The figure moves so quickly I have no time to compensate her actions. One moment, I'm standing in front of the door, and the next, my back bangs into the solid wall, the door slamming shut before I can call out for help.
Every inch of air is expelled from my lungs, and I open my mouth in slight agony, winded. The brittle stone is cold against my back, a shiver running down my spine and escaping into the floor through my toes, a tingling sensation rushing across my skin as a reminder.
Was she one of them? This whole time, had she been a rogue in disguise?
I shake my head, not because it isn't true - because I don't want to believe it.
"Azra!" I shout at her as she pins me to the wall, both of her arms grasped firmly onto my forearms as her eyes howl with rage. Her grip is so tight, I feel pins and needles ignite down my arms like a falling sensation.
Azra bares her teeth, but it's not the snarl of an animal: it's something much more than that.
"How dare you do that to Josh?" She enquires, her tone rattling through my skeleton like the chime of a weathered bell. Her words take me by surprise, and as a coincidence I loosen the hold on my weapon.
I raise my eyebrows, letting the sword fall from my grasp before shoving her off me. It doesn't take much power, but she looks as though she could tear the world apart like a feral tornado afterwards.
"What?" I manage to squeeze out, still winded from the impact of the wall.
Azra's eyes narrow to slits. "You know what," she hisses. She sees my questioning look, the dark slots that resemble her eyes reducing their weight. "What? Do you want me to spell it out to you?"
"N-" I begin, but she butts in like a bulldozer.
"Josh loves you Aurora - or did - and now his heart is broken, thanks to you," Azra comments as if she's got poison lining her mouth and needs to spit it out. "And for Damien? What the hell! That dick- brain deserves no one! He pinned you to a tree Aura, held a knife and your neck, and almost killed you. Twice."
I open my mouth, but the sound that comes out is a sound that I have never made before.
"I know," I whisper, but the words do nothing to calm Azra's temper. I have always known she has a quick temper, but I have never experienced anything like this.
"Then what the hell? Josh is the best guy you're ever going to get - in fact, he's too good for you - yet you throw him away like a piece of trash," she finishes. Although her words sting, I know better than anyone that they're true. "I don't even know why we made friends with you."
My heart feels as though someone has reached into my chest and squeezed it until it can no longer beat. I can't breathe. My mouth is aflame, unable to form words, my brain sparking into an inferno of rage. Every single nerve in my body tingles with anticipation, yet all I can do is stare. My eyes won't even allow me to blink.
I want to shout at her, to rip out a handful of her hair, or tell her that they're the ones who made friends with me, but I can't move. I'm frozen in place like a statue, my expression never shifting from my startled features. Every single part of my anatomy won't respond: it's like I'm a ghost, forever seeing but never being able to touch reality.
A lump rises in my throat, my oesophagus choking on my own words. I have already lost my family. I don't want to lose my friends too.
"I-" I attempt to say, but all that comes out of my mouth is a hushed breath. "I didn't mean to." This time my voice is much more pronounced. "I never wanted to hurt anyone ever, yet that's the only thing I seem to be doing. And I know Josh loves me. I know that he deserves someone better. But I didn't know what love was. I do now." I pause, finding the right words to say, whilst Azra folds her arms defiantly over her chest like she's protecting herself and pushing me away in the process. "I love Josh, but as a friend. I love you, as a friend. And I love Damien - I don't know why, but I do. Whenever I'm with him, I feel like I'm something. I feel like I belong. I feel alive."
Azra blinks, but what I think is anger, is really the reflection of tears. The amount I have witnessed over the past week has been immeasurable, and the last thing I want is to see someone else break down.
The girl shudders away as if she's seen me for the first time, her eyes running down my face like a brutal current. Her lips twitch for a millisecond, but she never blinks, as if the world will collapse if she even dares to close her eyes. She shrinks away from me, trying to hide in her own skin.
I rub my neck tentatively, pushing myself from the wall. I want to reach out and grab her wrist - just something to make her feel better, but with her downcast eyes and face of agony, I can only stand there powerless. Again.
"I promised him," Azra whispers, although her voice sounds more like a gurgle. "I promised him that I would protect him. I mean, after all he's done for me, it's the least I could do for him."
My eyebrows fold in confusion. I understand that Azra and Josh have been friends for an extremely long time, but Azra's words make me want to think that the connection goes even further than their bond. What had happened to bring them so close together? Was it something to do with her hate of rogues, because every time she even heard the word rogue, her nose scrunched in disgust. But then again, why did she agree to become friends with me?
I shake my head. "I don't understand."
Azra laughs, holding one of her elbows delicately with her other hand. It's something I've never seen her do before, but then again I've never seen her like this. Even her posture is slouched, and her fingers appear to repel her own touch as they flutter away from her elbow.
"No," she murmurs. "Of course you wouldn't." The toothy grin she gives me puts me at unease. There's something almost demonic about the facial expression. "You know I hate rogues, right? I hated the thought of being friends with you at first, but Josh talked me into it. To calm my hatred. But you know what? It didn't help. Nothing would. Not after what happened."
Every single breath of air once stored in my body seems to have vanished, leaving me feeling like a deflated paper bag used when someone was having a panic attack. I know that she hates rogues, but I have never seen the blood-curdling rage that consumes her heart every time she sees one. Only now do I realise how hard it is for her to cope with me being her friend - and the one who broke Josh's heart.
But finally, everything makes sense: her tough gaze; her bitter words when I did anything out of place.
"I-" I choke out. "I'm sorry," I apologise, even though whatever happened to her is not my fault. And no matter how many times I repeat that fact in my head like a mantra, I can't shake the feeling that she hates me for it.
Azra buries her head in her hands, obscuring her face from my view. Was she crying? She never cries. in fact, she has barely ever shown any remorse at all, let alone allow anyone to see her in plain mental agony.
I rock back on my heels, my hand reaching forwards to touch her forearm, but I stop myself. If I was in her position, comfort from the person who had driven me to that point of rage would not be welcome. At all. I'm surprised she hasn't yelled at me to go away, but I think that's because she knows I won't leave. I've left too many people to be tormented by their own minds, and Azra will not be another to add to my toll.
"It's not your fault," she whispers. My body shrinks away with surprise. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that. I know that people can't choose who they love. It- It happens. That's life."
My mouth opens in apparent shock, and my muscles won't respond to close it. Azra has never really been
the forgiving type either, and whether she's being gentle for my sake or I'm seeing a completely different side to her, I don't know. It's strange to think that after just two weeks of knowing her, she still appears like a stranger. I know nothing about her.
Azra wipes the single tear that rolls down her face. It cuts a channel in her skin, the darker beige stark against her dilapidated tone. In that moment, she looks much older than her years, as if a single tear can age someone a century. "Believe it or not, there was a time when me and Josh weren't in each other's lives," she murmurs, a smile etching itself onto her face like a faint line drawing. I'm afraid that even the slightest expel of my breath will cause it to drop, so I stay silent as she continues. "I mean, he was in my pack, but I never talked to him. You probably know, but an Alpha's daughter wasn't meant to talk to be associated with an Omega."
My lips purse in astonishment: although Azra has always been fierce, and I thought I had known her, I have never been able to see past the shield of armour she has put up to protect her heart. And now here she was, fully exposed, every single last scale of her tattered armour exploding into a fathom of grey and black. She had been an Alpha's daughter - which I don't know whether to be shocked or saddened by - and now she is nothing, at least to herself. If only she could see that she was everything to Josh.
Azra draws in a sharp breath. I hear the oxygen whistle through her bronchi, afraid that they might shatter from the severity of the action. "The first time I saw him, he couldn't even lift a sword." Azra's faint lips are drawn into the glimmer of a smile at the memory, but it's quickly chased away into the dark chasm of regret. "I showed him how to use the weapon, but my father saw. He forbid me from seeing Josh, but we had become friends, even in such a short space of time. Soon, we snuck out to see each other. Just to talk. My father never noticed, and, well, this isn't really that important," Azra mumbles. "He's the only friend I've ever had. Until you, Aurora."
My eyes glaze over with a strange sensation, as if my body feels her stare prickle at my skin. A bead of sweat implodes on my forehead, but I decide to blame it on the temperature of the room: it's winter, but that doesn't matter. Not anymore.
I nod at her to go forward.
"Everything was going well. My parents had no clue about mine and Josh's friendship, and the pack was happy," Azra sighs. My body unconsciously tenses with anticipation. "That was until they," the girl shudders, "arrived. It was only about ten of them, covered in blood and dirt, and they claimed that the rest of their pack had been killed by rogues.
"So, like any other pack would do, we took them in, helped heal their wounds." I watch Azra's throat swallow, perhaps in fear. "Then, one day, a platinum haired rogue took it in his stride to challenge my father's authority. They were bitter, cruel and harsh. I remember sitting inside my tent as the two began to fight, covering my ears as their shouts and growls grew louder.
"It was only a matter of time before they started fighting to the death, but one went silent before they had been able to declare Deathmatch." Azra's words trail off into an echo, her face slack as if her soul has abruptly left her body. She looks empty, just like I had the moment my parents were been killed right in front of my eyes.
Her next words sting like acid melding its way through my weakened bloodstream. "When I went outside, he was dead," she whispered, refusing to blink. It's as if I can see the fire that she saw that day blaze in her nonchalant eyes, reflecting like a time machine. "H- He was dead, and there was nothing I could do to save him."
A shaky hand reaches down to the corner of my bed as Azra guides herself towards the wooden posts. Her legs visibly shake as she stumbles backwards, as silently as a wolf crawls before pouncing on its prey.
Brunette tresses fall into Azra's face, obscuring her azure orbs for a millisecond. In that moment, I'm unsure of what I should do. I have never had a friend who has opened up to me like this before, and it feels wrong. I'm the last person to come to in a moment of crisis, for I would bury the person deeper with my own imperfections.
The warrior's voice startles me when she speaks up, echoing against the stone walls in a will of woe. "He took over. His fell pack-mates were given positions of authority, and me and my mother were thrown into the dirt from our own pack. We had nowhere to sleep, so huddled in the communal sleeping shelter with nothing but the clothes on our backs. They controlled everything: the amount of food we ate; who hunted; who mated with who; who lived; who died."
I'm almost tempted to speak, but I can't. My body won't respond to the signals I'm sending to my brain, and for that, I am grateful. I feel like my words would slice open the heavy air, causing it to belch invisible blood.
"I was lucky that I was not sentenced to death, but then came the day that my mother was. She had stepped out of line, simply by mentioning my father's name." Azra's lips grow into a thin line, like the angular edge of a knife. "They dragged her out into the centre of the pack lands. They made everyone watch, including me. I tried to save her, but I was young, weak. Fourteen, to be precise." Panic bubbles up in the girl's voice like an underwater volcano. Her hands waver as they lift to her face, clawing at her eyes so that she doesn't cry. "But I couldn't. I didn't.
"After that, I felt distant. I distanced myself from Josh and everyone I knew. I mean, when you've lost both of your parents within months of each other, there's nothing else you can do." She gritted her teeth menacingly as she removed her hands from above her eyes, clutching the bed sheets like she was trying to claw the life out of them.
"Josh finally gave up trying to talk to me, and we fell away from each other. Momentarily, our friendship was weak. I only saw him when we ate, and when we had shared duties. Even then we barely talked. I had faded, and he had decided to give me the space I needed. I guess that was a good thing because I was tempted to tear apart everyone who even dared to talk to me.
"Then the shift came. I was fifteen, and it was a complete shock to myself and the rest of my pack. They tried to hide my secret, but the Alpha found out soon enough," Azra exhaled furiously, taking a lock of hair and slowly weaving a plat through the fine, dilapidated strands. "The Alpha saw me as a threat, and he gave me a choice: either I be his son's mate, or I get executed. I chose the latter.
"They dragged me to the exact spot where my mother had stood. At that point, I didn't care whether I lived or died. I just wanted to get away from this horrific world." The warrior's hands clench with even more tension and regret than they previously had, as if they were trying to squeeze the life out of my bed. "But Josh had other ideas. He would never let me die, and so he challenged the Alpha to Deathmatch.
"Everyone knew he couldn't win: he was an omega, going up against an Alpha who had previously won against our own Alpha. No one believed he could win." Azra's hands relax their hold, supposedly flinching before springing back to their relaxed shape. The skin has gone white where her nails meet the skin. "But he did. He used his anger to fight, just like you did in the Alpha Trials, and so far anger has proven to be the greatest weapon one can use.
"With his weapon and rage, he banished the rogue wolves from the pack lands, including the Alpha's son, Hunter," Azra spits the name like there's bile rising in her mouth. We both visibly shudder at the name, my chest suddenly burning with a strange sensation I can't even fathom.
It all makes sense. The hatred. The pain. The strange underlying meaning in her eye every time we looked at each other. Everything.
"They killed my parents, Aura. And they're never coming back," Azra whispers, threatening to burst into tears once more, but I give her a defiant gaze to stop her actions. She has to be strong, if not for me or Josh, then for them. "I'm going to get revenge, I assure you."
I bow my head. "I know you will."
Azra nods her head in response, standing from the bed frame and rising like a resurrected ghost. Her face is no longer a white canvas, and all signs of salt water have seemingly vanished within the blink of an eye. She swiftly moves her hand, delicate fingers flick
ering over the hilt of her sword before drawing the weapon. She draws the blade, the sound of metal on metal reverberating soothingly throughout my chamber. Sunlight refracts from the newly sharpened weapon, glaring into my eyes before Azra lowers her arm, resting it at her side.
No longer does the broken and orphan girl exist. Instead, in front of me stands the strongest warrior I'll ever know. And she will not fall. Not now. Not ever.
I can feel the vengefulness smothering the air, so thick it's almost suffocating.
THE ROGUE WOLF Page 19