Chapter 10

Faolán's mind was racing. Damn rogues, invading their territory. Probably they were the ones who set fire to the packs's lands in order to weaken them. They waited for the Alpha to come out so they could attack.

'Don't feel so guilty. At least we found our mate.' Rafe said.

Faolán agreed. Despite everything, now they had Alanna. Well, not exactly, since she was a little more difficult than what a wolf is used to deal with, but she was fully worthy of their thrust.

With that in mind, Faolán, whose hands were itching to text her, decided to keep calm. He was being too invasive and she didn't like it. And now he had something very important to deal with: the safety of the pack.

He couldn't even fall asleep on the plane. When the aircraft landed, he was the first to get up and walk to the door and wait for it to open up. He had thought about taking a private jet, which was a bit faster, but there wasn't one available at the moment. The plane door opened and he practically ran out of it.

Zander wouldn't be able to go get him, obviously. Therefore, Faolán would have to take a cab, be dropped off at some point, hide his suitcase somewhere, and then transform. Running like a wolf he would arrive at the pack's territory faster than by any human vehicle.

As he got closer, he warned Zander that he was coming up. The Beta immediately warned the other wolves and they prepared for the Alpha's surprise attack. The rogue group was relatively large, around twenty or so. By the time Faolán arrived, at least eleven out of those were still on their feet, fighting. The scent of blood could be felt from afar, and Faolán felt the pain of knowing that some of the wolves of his pack were injured or killed.

Apparently, there was no alpha among the rogues. Even though they aren't part of a pack, whenever they attacked, they'd follow one of them; but in this case, everyone seemed to be on the same level.

'I don't understand. They don't look like regular rogues. They are stronger and more resistant than usual.' Zander said to Faolán, through their link. Piotr, Zander's wolf, was tired. So when Faolán came into contact with them, the wolf felt a great relief. He quickly connected with Rafe.

Faolán was a much larger wolf than the others, and when the rogues saw him, instead of being frightened by that big white wolf, as it was the most natural reaction, they seemed to gain more impetus to attack. The other wolves in the pack didn't understand it, but they didn't have time to reflect on the matter, as the fight was getting more and more difficult.

'Protect the pack house from the rogues, and some of you need to rest, or else we will succumb.' Faolán said. And then he managed the remaining members of his pack, by dividing them into groups and decided when each one should go inside the main house to recover. The groups took turns, which lasted a few hours. Faolán, as the Alpha, would have to hold his ground.

When all the rogues seemed defeated, an incoming arrow hit Faolán below the ribs on his right flank. He howled and started to fall. Then a rogue that wasn't dead yet got up and rushed to attack him. Zander was quick and managed to stop the villain wolf from attacking the Alpha.

Faolán reverted to his human form and was rushed to the medical ward, which was a bit messed up from the fire, but still usable. The wound was strange, tinged with green. The werewolf responsible for treating the wound, Hannibal, after checking Faolán up, came to the conclusion that the arrow had been poisoned. However, he would need a little more time to know by which substance.

Zander knew that Faolán was an Alpha and therefore stronger than usual, however, the fact that he had found his partner and was not with her was something that weakened him. He only hoped that since she hadn't rejected him, it meant Faolán would be less vulnerable to illness and injury. Plus, Hannibal was an excellent healer and very smart. So, they could only hope for their leader to heal fast.

"A-Alanna…" That was all Faolán managed to say, before he was engulfed by darkness.

*

Alanna had been waiting for over twenty minutes and no sign of Faolán. She refused to call him.

"Madame, may I bring you another glass of wine?" The waiter asked, to which she agreed. Every minute that passed made her heart even more bitter.

'That bastard kept pestering me to go out with him just to make an idiot out of me! What a fucking jerk!' Alanna was thinking.

A man who was sitting at another table was watching her. She was beautiful, but as time passed, and she kept looking at her watch, he realized that she had probably been blown off by somebody. He considered approaching her, but the look in her eyes kept him at bay. She looked ready to rip someone into pieces, in the literal sense of the words.

She waited until her wristwatch struck nine. One entire hour waiting was enough. She called the waiter and asked him for the bill. After she'd paid it, she went to her car and drove away, but not headed back home. Morana was still there and Alanna didn't have the tiniest bit of patience to deal with the dramas of the witch. She drove to Clear Creek, near Idaho, about 40 minutes from Westminster. She just wanted a place a little far away from people in general, and to connect a little with nature. When she was alive, she loved to be near the sea and lie on the grass, especially when she was sad or nervous. Or anxious, like she was at that moment, although she couldn't understand why. The entire day had been like this.

She turned off her cell phone as soon as she arrived at her destination and stayed there until three in the morning. Alanna was grateful that Morana hadn't gone after her, as the witch could be a bit intrusive sometimes.

Speaking of 'intrusive', Alanna remembered Faolán. He was a clingy dolt. It didn't make any sense that he'd stood her up at the restaurant, without saying anything at all.

After rising from the rock she was sitting on and with her feet immersed in the water, Alanna went her car and drove back home. She intended to call Faolán as soon as day broke, and he'd better have an excellent excuse.