Zion

The warehouse is just what I’ve heard of, the abandoned area by the shore of the beach. Used now for twenty years as a ring for rogues, the cars have already piled up, ranging from old and beat up to sleek and new.

I walk beside Gray, nervous as the doors of the warehouse are just yards away from us. Zion and a group of warriors surround the area, out of sight, and masking their scent in case something goes horribly wrong.

“Ready?” Gray asks as we get closer.

I nod, watching as the sun begins to set, making me feel only worse. No, I’ve never been afraid of the dark, but now I am. Circumstances run through my head of the rogues figuring out who I am to the King and chasing me down all in the dark. It’s as if my body has begun to shut down and is starting to rely on autopilot as my stomach can be tasted in my mouth and the hairs on my arms begin to rise.

The second we arrive at the door, a rogue lets us in, taking in our appearances as I don’t even both to look at him. I don’t want to try anything today. I don’t want to take a chance.

The warehouse smells like beer, dust, sweat, and a mix of rogue scents from all over the country. On one side is a bar, old tables set up with stools are people chat and drink, a game of darts playing as well as cards. In the center is the ring, one that you would find for boxing, and in it stands a female rogue and a male. The male is twice the female’s size, but something tells me she knows how to work around that. After all, all she has to do is use her height to an advantage as well as his weight. Simple physics really with how to proctor out the moves.

“New rogue?” A male comments from my side, watching Gray with his brown eyes. “Our numbers only rise.” Gray looks at the man, not wanting to speak as the male takes a swing of his beer and goes back to his pool game.

Already I told Gray he would get comments, for a new rogue always has a more potent scent.

Looking around, I decide to pull Gray with me to the ring, in the crowd as we watch the women land a hard punch to her opponent’s jaw. As I watch the match, I also watch the people, keeping a lookout for anyone who would have contacts with the ring leaders. The people you would look for are either going to be your loners who sit in a crowd but do not speak or move, except for the eyes. Your other type would be the one surrounded by many people as they play the popular role.

“Drink?” I ask Gray, letting him know I’m going to scope out the bar area for the contacts.

Gray nods and I’m off, weaving last a few rogues and to the bar where quite a few already are. It’s not too populated here in the warehouse, I’d say about two hundred rogues almost, a little less. As I come to the bar and take a seat, my nerves only pile upon one another. I have no other direct protection here except for Gray, and the rest are on the boarder of the warehouse property, a bit too long to come to aid in case a gun is put to my head.

Ordering just a normal beer, I turn around, scoping out the crowd as I see small crowds gather off of the stage of the fight, betting on the winner or discussing other topics. As I’m given my beer, my fingers begin to tremble, grasping into the bottle tighter to gain control. Gray is chatting with one of the meaty rogues that let you know he was once a warrior. Those rogues I always found to be the nicest to chat with. Sure, they look like wolves on steroids, but they are the easiest to strike up a conversation with.

My eyes skim the other side of the warehouse, where small tables are laid out, games of gambling going on.

One female catches my attention, the tattoo sleeve on her left arm.

It’s a tattoo sleeve bearing symbols you’d see in history books of the cavemen.

She may be a warrior, one of the few the moon goddess ever lets roam the earth. If she is a warrior, her story will be one to hear about for centuries.

Dressed in a leather vest, black tank top, and dark jeans with tears, she gives off the badass look. With vibrant red hair that cuts sharp across the jawline of her pale face and dark green eyes, already I know she’s trouble.

But I also know she’s the one to talk with.

As someone sent to guard the race of wolves, she would have the names I need tonight and contacts.

I turn to face Gray, giving him the hand gesture of my two pointer fingers held up and the rest back.

He nods, following my gaze to the female who arm wrestled another male, winning instantly as money is given to her.

She has to be the warrior. As a warrior she is stronger than any wolf.

She is even stronger than Zion.

Zion. What to even think about him. I’m engaged to the Alpha King for goodness sake and know barely anything of his story except for what he has slipped up or what I’ve read in the werewolf gossip papers online.

Taking one last swing of the beer, I head over to the game of arm wrestling as the woman takes the roll of tens and places them in her pockets, thanking the last opponent for his presence. She’s someone that I need to speak with.

Not only because of contacts, but because of matters regarding family. I want to know what happened to my parents.

I want to know if their deaths were by rogues like me, or by a man I’m to marry soon enough.

As the crowd dissipates, the woman is left to her own company. My feet work on their own, carrying me towards the woman as I brush past multiple other rogues.

Her eyes meet mine briefly as I come to the table. I know Gray is not far behind, staying back just enough to not be noticed, but not too far to be unable to aid in case something goes wrong.

Zion crosses my mind once again as I place my hands upon the chair before the woman across the table. “Evening.”

The woman goes back to counting the roll of tens in her pocket, ignoring me as I feel my nerves pick up even more. “Where are you from?”

She looks up once more, a feeling settling deep in my stomach that makes me feel like vomiting.

Bam!

I flinch, watching as the knife sticks out of the table. She looks at me with those dark eyes as I don’t know what to expect next.

“I could ask you the same. Now, move along before I dodge this knife into your head.”

I need my answers and contacts.

“I have a quest-

“Three.”

“I have a question for you,” I say quickly.

“Two.”

“You’re a warrior of the Moon Goddess,” I release, not even wanting to place a filter on my mouth. I just said something I should of never said.

The room becomes silent as I know I’ve fucked up.

Gray comes up from behind me, the warrior getting up at the same time.

“And you must be Sybil Black.”

My name.

She knows my name.

She knows who I am.

Instantly I see the chaos begin as rogues rush towards where I stand.

Gray goes down first, two massive rogues pushing him down to the floor as the warrior grabs the collar of my shirt, slamming my head down on the table. “What are you doing here?”

Blood can be tasted in my mouth as pain shoots up the left side of my face.

I hear the knife being taken from the table, people cheering on as the fight just begins. “The future Queen has just arrived,” the woman shouts, as if an announcer in the ring.

The cheers only get louder as I see from the corner of my eye, Gray being punched square in the face, knocked out.

“Shall we invite the King as well?”

She grabs my hair, pulling my head back as I meet her gaze. The rogues surround us, watching as the woman holds the knife to my throat. “Maybe the two of you could entertain us with a dance...perhaps one of blood and death.”

A punch square in the face as the pain in my nose becomes even more persist, the cracking of cartilage reaching my ears.

“So, why are you here, Ms. Black?”

I’m pulled towards the woman, my chin held high as my hair is pulled tightly up. “Is this just another role to play from the King? Another task and you get a great lay? Maybe promised peace when you get me? What did the King want? Me dead?!”

She thinks I’m here for her. She believes the King wants her.

“No, he doesn’t want you,” I respond, the blood dripping from my nose and into my open mouth as I struggle for a breath of air as the pain takes over. “I came here searching for someone.”

She grabs my neck, her long fingers circling around the delicate body part as she squeezes tightly. My lungs begin to sting, my toes only touching the ground.

“I need the ring leaders.”

The woman looks around the rogues, her eyes darkening. “You protect the existence of the wolf kind, you were sent by Selene herself to carry out our kind. The Kingdom is in need of fighters to protect its history and future.”

The rogues go dead silent, not a single whisper heard as the woman lets me go, stepping back as she takes in my appearance.

“You say the King calls upon rogues.”

I shake my head.

“The Kingdom calls upon the rogues to aid us. You are all part of the Kingdom, you are all wolves, are you not?”

Every pair of eyes are upon me now as I speak my words. I still do not know what their response will be. “I am one of you, a rogue, one cast aside by my pack, but even the Alphas call upon us now and even are willing to do work together.”

“Why should we aid them when they cast is aside!?” One male shouts, people nodding in response as I can feel Zion’s help coming closer. I know they are close, ready to take action if something goes terribly wrong now. “Why show respect when they offer us none?”

The warrior looks to me once more, sliding her dagger into her vest.

“If you deny aid, are you no better than those who cast you out? Revenge as we watch the Kingdom become ruins is not worth it. If the Kingdom dies, you too die. It’s simple. As the packs become nothing but dust, we too will become that.”

“You are saying we should-

“I am asking for the aid. Not just the King, the Alphas, the packs, or even the Kingdom. I, a rogue like everyone else, is asking for the aid of my fellow men in this to-be war,” I explain, knowing Zion must be dead worried about how they will take my small speech. “I was made a rogue because my mate did not care for me. I have one story in a collection of books. We have all been cast aside or even chose to leave, but let’s not do that to our Kingdom, let us show our Kingdom we are not the monsters they fear we are.”

Here I stand, a young girl in the midst of many others, each containing different stories and different opinions upon the werewolf Kingdom.

The warrior doesn’t move, only staring at me as the rest do as well. Some whispers are exchanged and glances as well, but no one gives me my answer. I ask them to be the good guy, to push aside all the hate they feel for the packs. I never thought I would be asking rogues to be the good guy.

“Arthur Vincent,” the woman speaks.

I raise an eyebrow.

“He is someone to find. Find him and you find the ring leaders for you little war. Though I do doubt many will follow you, I do believe these ring leaders will. Choose your words wisely, Sybil Black.”

She walks away, heading past the crowd as I hear the door open.

I did it.

I got a name for the ring leaders.

I earned the trust of a warrior, of a woman so few know what she is.

I’m not dead either.

A body is thrown on top of new, causing me to stumble back into the table.

The body falls to the floor, Gray, starting to wake up. “Though Lillith trusts you, we want you two gone.” I nod to the beefy male, helping up an uneasy Gray as we head for the exit.

They did not harm me.

As the cold air nips at my face and a mist blows, I can see Zion standing about two blocks away. With his arms behind his back, chin held high, and a small tug on his lips, I can tell he is happy.

No, I never got my answers on my parents nor who Zion’s mate is, I did complete something I came to do.

The closer I get, the more I can see a smile grow upon his lips. Feeling my heart skip a beat, my pace quickens, my brain blurring out the rest of what I see except my destination.

And I arrive safely to my destination: into the arms of the Wolf King and my fiancé.

A light kiss is placed upon my lips, my body feeling electrified as I’m picked up and swung around.

“You did it,” Zion states right before he places me down, landing another soft kiss upon my lips as I smile.

I feel content.

I feel no longer empty.

“Indeed I did,” I reply, wrapping an arm around his as we walk towards where the cars can be seen awaiting us.

Today had a happy ending, one of joy and completion as I feel relived and happy.

But not every day will feel this way, the way my wolf feels excited at the sight of the man I am to marry, the way I smile right now.

Not every day has a happy ending like so many I have experienced, but for now I will take advantage of this feeling.

Offering the King one more kiss, we hop into the car, ready for whatever may await us next. Even if our next day throws a curve ball at us that shocks and disrupts the very ground we stand firm upon. Even if tomorrow is painted in the darkness of hell, we will be ready.

As we arrive back at the hotel, I don’t even care for getting out of these clothes first and taking a shower as I wrap my arms around the King. Giving him a passionate kiss, we fall down to the mattress, the night still young as we find ourselves together once more and tangled up in the sheets.