CHAPTER 1

Into the Wild

Maya's POV

My name is Maya Rivers, and I am a rogue.

Not by choice, of course. This is not actually a life that Rogues chose. It chooses them. One day you don't wake up and decide to abandon the pack system. You’re pushed out, cast away, or left with no other option but to run. That’s what happened to me.

I wasn't always alone. I believed I had a pack, a family, and a future once. But when I turned ten, everything changed. That was the year my wolf didn’t show up. I stood there in silence, surrounded by whispers and pitying stares, as others my age changed in the light of the full moon, their first howls resounding in joy.

“No wolf?” they said. “She’s cursed. Weak.”

Weak. I tried to shrug that word off, but it stuck to me like a second skin.

By the time I was thirteen, sympathy gave way to disdain. My packmates shunned me, as if my lack of a wolf was infectious. Before they passed away, even my parents, who were my own blood relatives, began to turn away. The whispers quickly turned into threats. The Alpha called me a liability, a danger to the pack’s survival.

And then one night, it was over.

I ran, forced to leave the only home I’d ever known. I will always remember the sound of the gates closing behind me and the chilly night air stinging my flesh. I wasn't even allowed to fight for my place. I was an outcast. A rogue.

Tenn years have passed since then.

Now I live on the outskirts, getting by on leftovers and the wisdom I've accumulated from years of isolation. No one, especially Alphas, has my trust. I will never again wear their authority as a leash.

But living isn't the same as surviving. It's a daily struggle to avoid packs that view rogues as threats or pests that need to be eradicated. On certain days, I think about stopping—letting them catch me. But then, I recall the expressions of others who doubted me and referred to me as weak. Even though they will never see it, I will continue to prove them wrong.

I’ve spent the last few months in the neutral territory, a vast expanse of dense forest untouched by pack borders. It’s one of the few places where rogues like me can disappear. Or at least, that’s what I thought.

The evening air was thick with the smell of damp dirt and pine as I knelt by the river and washed the blood off my hands. Thank goodness, it wasn't mine. A rabbit had been unlucky enough to cross my path earlier, and its meat would keep me fed for the next few days.

Except for the occasional rustle of leaves and the soft chatter of the stream, the forest was still. But the silence was perilous. Silence means something was wrong.

My instincts were tingling as I stood. A shift in the wind brought with it a smell that made my stomach turn: wolves.

They weren't just passing through. The sharp tang of aggression hung in the air, mingled with the unmistakable stench of sweat and leather. Trackers.

"Damn it.” I whispered, grabbing my rucksack and slung it over my shoulder.

I felt a rush of adrenaline as the first howl rang out through the atmosphere. They had detected my scent.

I didn't waste any more time and ran into the trees.

As I ran, my boots banging on the ground, the forest merged around me. I couldn't stop, but every breath hurt. Not with growls and footsteps encroaching on me from behind.

"Spread out! She's going north! A voice sounded.

I took a fast right turn and sped through a briar forest. Ignoring the pain, thorns tore at my skin and clothing. The first priority was survival.

I have previously dealt with trackers. Wolves trained to hunt out rogues like me were common in most packs. They weren't amateurs, though. Their speed was unrelenting and their moves were too well-coordinated.

The terrain ahead sank into a gulf. My chest heaved as I weighed my options and skidded to a stop. The ravine was steep, but not impossible to climb. The problem was the river at the bottom. If I jumped, they’d lose my scent temporarily, but the noise would give me away.

"Think, Maya." I said, looking over my shoulder.

I was startled into action by the sound of a branch breaking. I jumped without thinking.

The cold water knocked the air out of my lungs and devoured me whole. I kicked toward the surface, fighting the current. My limbs screamed in protest as I gasped for air after I had managed to break free.

The trackers’ voices echoed from above, but they didn’t follow. Not yet.

“Find another way down!” one of them yelled.

I didn't wait to see if they'd succeed.. I stumbled into the forest on the other side, the shadows engulfing me as I dragged myself onto the rocky coastline.

The forest was bathed in a dark, unsettling radiance since the sun had already set by the time I stopped. My body was shaking from the cold and fatigue, and my clothes were saturated.

I tried to catch my breath while leaning against a tree, my chest heaving. Though their voices had faded, the trackers had not given up. Somewhere, they were waiting for me to make a mistake.

I froze at the sound of rustling leaves.

"Don't panic." I held the knife strapped to my thigh and murmured to myself.

The crunch of footsteps added to the growing volume of the rustling.

“Come on out, rogue,” a voice growled, low and menacing. “We know you’re here.”

My fingers gripped the hilt of my knife tighter as I flattened myself against the tree.

“Make this easy on yourself,” the voice continued, closer now. “We can do this the hard way, or—”

He was silenced by a loud whistle that sliced through the air.

"Return to the ridge!" said another voice.

I released a trembling breath as the footsteps backed off.

I didn’t relax until the forest was silent again. Slowly, I stepped away from the tree, my legs trembling beneath me.

I had to keep going. I couldn't take the chance of being here when the trackers returned.

I started to feel weird as I pushed farther into the forest. At first, I felt a slight tingle at the nape of my neck.But the further I walked, the stronger it became.

I wasn’t alone.

My spine tingled at the realization. I looked around, but I couldn't see anything.

"Who is there?" With a voice more steady than I felt, I shouted out.

Silence.

My heart was racing as I held onto my knife. The typical nature sounds were hauntingly lacking as if the forest were holding its breath.

Then I saw them: eyes.

Glistening and golden, they stared at me from the shadows, predatory and unblinking.

As the figure entered the moonlight, my breath caught. It was a wolf, but it was unlike any I had ever seen. Its immensity made it almost otherworldly, and its fur was as black as the shadows.

It didn’t attack. It just watched, as if weighing its options.

My knuckles were white as I gripped the knife more tightly. Despite my voice betraying me, I said, "I'm not afraid of you."

As if it understood, the wolf cocked its head. Then it vanished back into the darkness without a sound.

My heart pounded in my chest as I stood motionless.

"What on earth was that?" I muttered.

A loud voice sounded through the trees before I could gather my thoughts, and it made me shiver.

"Little rogue, you've wandered into dangerous territory."

I turned, but there was no one in the forest. There was only a slight rustle of leaves.

The realization made my heart race. I had entered the territory of the Midnight Pack, one of the most dreaded packs in existence.

And now, I had their attention.