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Warning: This story will contain violence and abusive imagery. Read with caution and at your own discretion.

Rogues were common and most often hated in the world of werewolves. They were the wolves that didn't have or didn't fit into a pack. They were exiles or the remnents of packs that could not find their place in another. They were also violent and a topic of heated discussion between Alphas. Knowing that there was rogues in the area would set an entire pack on edge, as they all knew that the rogues were out to take something from them.

What many in packs didn't know, was that not all rogues were what they seemed. Small packs were easy targets for rogues, and while it was often assumed that when a pack was wiped out all members were killed. This was not the case.

Many times, when a rogue group took out a pack, they would take the young children, raising them amongst the group and training them in the lawless ways of rogues. Some of the children are too young to remember their parents, and grow up knowing no life but that of a rogue, growing with a deep hatred of a pack because life in a pack is something they dont remember ever having. Envy for a life of safety and love breeds hatred within them and that hatred is used a fuel to spur their attacks.

Adalaid was not one of those children. She remembered her parents and the love and bond she had with the small pack she had been born into. Her father had been the Beta and was fiercely loyal to his Alpha. The Aplha was a good man, doing his best to help his small pack grow in the harsh regions of northern Asia. They were a nomadic tribe, which made them prime targets for the rogues, and Ada was taken from the arms of her dying mother when a group of them attacked in the night.

Ada was passed from group to group until she found herself in the northwest of America. Oregon was densely blanketed with thick forests that were easy to hide in and though there were three large packs, the rogues were able to slip away into the dense undergrowth each time they were hunted by one of the packs. It was in one of these rogue groups that Ada had grown up in. Clinging to the memory of her parents and the love of her pack, she secretly hoped to one day return home and be rid of the horrors that she had been raised with.

The leader of the rogue group she was raised in was ruthless and possessive. Once he claimed a new member into the group they were never allowed to leave, not even in death. When a member died, he would carve out one of their bones and add it to the hide cloak of a normal wolf that he always wore, his cloak of the fallen. It was barbaric and Ada hated him more than she hated any of the others, even if he was more kind to her.

They were at their make shift camp, Ada braiding and twisting dried thing strips of bark to make rope for the group. There was no real hierarchy in a group of rogues. Whoever could kill the leader took their place and ran the group until they were killed. There was no love or respect among any of them. They were kept in line with fear and promises of pain or death should they step out of line. Each of them were assigned jobs each morning and were expected to carry out their duty without complaint.

Ada was chosen to make rope this day, and was set to her task in silence as she listened to the sounds in the camp. Yelling, laughing, crying, the sounds of sparing between some of the others and an argument somewhere not far from camp. No doubt it was another plan to take down the current leader that would end in one, if not all of the conspirators dead. Ada shook her head as she rolled the braided strands against her worn leather boot.

"Ada!" Came the strong voice of the leader, causing her to sigh in frustration and clench her jaw, continuing her work. After a moment she heard his commanding voice again, an edge of irritation to it. Still she ignored him and continued her work.

The sound of swift heavy footsteps and his strong scent drawing close let her know that he was approaching, but she did not turn her attention from her work, twisting the strands with her fingers and rolling the fibers against her boot.

"Adalaid I called your name and you refuse to answer?" He snapped, Ada taking her time to answer.

"You know I can hear you from across the camp. You had my attention when you called the first time, you could have said what you wanted." She said smoothly, a hint of defiance in her tone that brought a quiet growl from the male.

"The others keep complaining that I'm not pulling my weight because you keep pulling me away from my tasks and someone else has to pick up my slack." She said to him, able to feel the heat of his glare on the side of her head.

"I was chosen to make the rope we need for the next hunt. I'm doing my job." A harder edge came to her voice, though when he remained glaring at her and not saying a word she sighed and turned her head to look at him. Her head snapped to the side and pain bloomed across her face as he slapped her hard. She could taste blood in her mouth and spit to the side.

"I'm the leader and you will answer when I call. If any of the others have an issue with my favored, they can take it up with me." He rumbled. She gave a humorless laugh.

"No. They will take it up with me when they rip out my throat in the middle of the night while you are preoccupied with your newest bed warmer." She countered, his hand roughly grabbing her head and a fistful of hair as he yanked her head back and forced her to look at him.

"Watch your tone girl." He growled. She stared back at him definatly, which she could see sent a wash of different emotions surging through him. His nearly black eyes, so much like her own, studied her face a moment before roughly shoving her away from him.

"We got word from the scouts that the son of the Deepwood pack is headed for the coast, to meet up with a convoy from the Ocean Moon pack. We head out tonight to cut the head off the snake." His tone was flat and he watched her as she continued to work. When she did not respond right away, he continued.

"You will be joining the hunting party." His tone was amused and Sda paused in her work. She clenched her jaw and let out a long slow breath.

"Why? Why are you sending me?" She asked, focusing back on her work to distract herself from her anger.

"You have let your reputation slip, and it will be a new moon tonight. With your black coat, you will blend in perfectly in the darkness the canopy and a lack of moonlight offers." He replied, Ada clicking her teeth is disdain that was not missed.

The reputation he spoke of was one given to her by the three packs in the area and picked up by those in the rogue groups not only in this state, but the surrounding ones and even some up in the Canadian territories. She was known to kill without mercy or hesitation, taking a life quickly if that is what was called for. She would remain with her opponent until they had passed. The coat of her wolf was black, the color of ravens. As such, she was seen as a herald of souls, and the title Valkyrie was given to her. She had heard that some assumed she was some sort of spirit wolf, taking the souls of the dead and either bringing them to the afterlife, or consuming them. It carried depending on was telling the rumors.

"I dont care." She replied after a long silence.

"Take Asa. His coat is almost as dark as.mine. He will blend in just fine." She said, hearing the male growl. She had only a moment to tense before his boot connected with her side and sent her to the ground. In a flash he was standing over her and he grabbed her by the throat, pulling her face up close to his, and her upper body off the ground.

"You will do as I say, or it will be you warming by bed tonight." He warned. Her head swam with dizziness, but this was not the first time she had been grabbed by the throat and she brought her hands up. Not the pull bis hand off, though. Instead she put one hand over his eyes, distracting him long enough to slip her other hand past his guard and she popped his Adam's apple with her knuckles.

He released her right away and stumbled back as she scrambled to her feet, on guard in a crouched and defensive position, ready for retaliation. No one else in the camp even looked up from their work. Fights broke out often and it was better to let them play out than to interfere and get yourself injured or killed for someone else. There was no loyalty amongst the rogues.

The two of them remained as they were for a long time, staring each other down with deep glares before the male began to laugh. There was no humor in it and Ada found herself annoyed.

"You will be there tonight, Ada." There was no question in his voice as he turned and walked back toward his tent. She spit to the side again, a low growl deep in her chest as she picked up the discarded rope and got back to work.

This was how things were in her world. Violence was the root of everything and not knowing how to fight or kill meant your end. By the time she was ten Ada had already killed two wolves and had hardened her heart to everything but the memory of her family and her pack. She could not afford to feel for any of the others. Emotions were a weakness and weaknesses were easy to exploit. She was a survivor and was not about to give any of the others leverage over her.

Kyle, their current leader, was always the worst offender. He would use any weakness he could against the members of the group and would either kill them, or torture them until they begged for death, at which time he would make it a slow painful one. He thrivednon pain and fear, finding Ada so enticing because she did not fear him and never showed him her pain.

The rest of the day passed without another incident, which was rare for the group. Ada figured they were all saving their aggression for the pack members they were playing in ambushing and could feel the tension when they were out in the forest later, running in their wolf forms to bot only have the upper hand, but to be able to attack with as much ferocity as possible.

They had gone over their plan before they had all shifted. They were not a pack and so they had no mental link. Once in wolf form they could only read the body language of one another as they waited on a raise above the path the convoy would be passing through. It seemed to take hours before the scent of other wolves filtered through the air. They were getting close and the rogues were getting tense.

It was almost another half hour before the group came into view, walking quickly and as silently as they could down the path. They had no lights and there were not more than seven of them down there. None of the rogues knew which one was the son of the alpha, so all of them were slated for death. Ada hated it, though her nearly black eyes moved over the face of each person in the group.

She paused when her gaze landed on the male in the middle. He has short cropped dark hair and handsom angular features. He looked almost like he could be Russian or German, and with his strong athletic build, Ada guessed that he had to be o e of the strongest warriors they had. She felt an unusual swell in her chest and she tensed up as the group came to the flat spot in the trail.

On one side of the trail was a steep hill that descended down toward a deep and fast running river. The other side rose into a rocky hill that the rogue group was currently hiding on. Ince their scent was caught by the group below and they all stopped and tensed, a sharp bark was let out from Kyle and the rogue group rushed down the hill toward the unprepared group.