ravenwuulf Raven Wuulf

Alexa, a registered rogue shifter, has been working as a delivery person for all the packs in the surrounding areas for seven years. Despite being a rogue, she is respected by all due to her excellent work ethics. One night, while celebrating her friend's birthday, Alexa runs into her abusive ex-boyfriend, Luke. Terrified of him, Alexa begs for help from a group of strangers, which includes Mason, the Alpha King, and his loyal advisors. Mason immediately feels a mating bond with Alexa but doesn't want to interfere with her night.


Romance Romance jeune adulte Interdit aux moins de 18 ans.

#epic #luna #alpha #mate #rogue #shifter #alphaking #protective #newbeginnings #matingbond #loveconquersall #fatedmate #rogueshifter #highluna #lunaqueen
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Rogue Delivery

--Alexa's POV---

The city's pulse thrums beneath my wheels as I thread the freightliner through snarls of traffic. I'm Alexa Montgomery, and these streets are my veins; I navigate them by instinct. The engine rumbles a steady promise as I weave between cars, an urban huntress on the prowl. Each turn is a calculated dance, each signal a silent challenge I overcome with ease. I live in these moments of motion, where the destination holds no sway over the journey.

As the skyline recedes, the landscape shifts. Concrete jungles give way to nature’s untamed expanses, and I find myself at the outskirts of the Silverpine pack community. A formidable gate looms ahead, flanked by sentinels whose gazes pierce through the truck's cab like spears. They seek the weakness in armor, the flaw in façade. But I came prepared.

"Identification," one grunts, extending a hand expectant of compliance. Registered rouges aren't welcomed easily; our existence is a question mark they'd rather ignore. But necessity breeds tolerance, and my deliveries are necessary.

I slip my ID across, a laminated badge of solitary existence—a rogue's passport within the communal lands. The guard scrutinizes the card with suspicion etched into his furrowed brow. I can tell that he is a newly appointed guard who just took over the position. He wasn’t here last week during my last delivery. His eyes flick up to meet mine, searching for deceit. He won't find it. My life is an open book if you know which pages to read.

"Clear," he finally declares, the barrier lifting with a reluctant groan as he hands me back my ID. I nod, a silent thank you or perhaps acknowledgment of this ritual we perform. Then, I drove through, the truck rumbling a greeting to the pack territory. The engine hums a low, soothing tune as I navigate the Silverpine pack's winding roads. Trees arch overhead, their leaves whispering secrets of the forest. I pull up beside the community center, the heart of the pack's daily bustle, and slide out of the cab with practiced ease.

"Morning, Lexa!" Marlon, the burly receptionist at the center, greets me with a nod that sets his mane of sandy hair into disarray. He was one of the first to remember my name, once he got over the whole rogue status. I wouldn’t call him a friend, but I know that I don’t have to worry about him ripping my throat out in the parking lot either.

"Hey, Marlon. Got a mix today—books, clothes, some tech," I replied, unloading boxes stamped with addresses and names. My hands moved with the precision of a well-oiled machine, each parcel finding its way into Marlon's waiting arms.

"Appreciate it. You're always on time, rain or shine," he says, a genuine smile crinkling the corners of his eyes.

"Rain's no match for these tires," I quip back, a playful grin fleeting across my lips.

As I hand over the last of the parcels, laughter and chatter spill from behind. Turning, I caught sight of a group of teenage shifters, their eyes locked onto me. Their approach is casual but their intent, clear as day.

"Look what we have here, boys—a lone wolf playing delivery girl," one sneers, his voice grating against the morning's calm.

"More like a lost stray dog," another adds, his companions snickering like hyenas scenting weakness.

I keep my face neutral, though the barbs tug at old wounds. "Just making deliveries. Don't you pups have somewhere to be?" The words come out cool, detached, masking the undercurrent of tension.

"Aw, she thinks she’s one of us," the first taunts, stepping closer. His breath reeks of arrogance. "This is pack land, rogue, and you’re not pack."

"Last I checked, these packages are for this pack land." I gestured towards the neatly stacked goods by Marlon's side. "Unless you want to explain to your Alpha why his new laptop got 'misdelivered.'"

Their brave facade falters, uncertainty creeping into their expressions. Even the most foolish individuals know better than to cross an Alpha. With one last defiant glare, they backed off slightly, muttering under their breath.

"Don't mind them, Lexa," Marlon says softly once they've retreated. “They are more bark than bite.”

"It's part of the job," I shrug, hiding any signs of disturbance within me. Showing weakness is not an option, not here or anywhere.

"I didn't realize this was comedy hour," I retorted with a half-smile, glancing at the hostile shifters. "If they're trying out for court jester, I'd say they have a strong chance of being chosen for the group act."

Their sneers falter, confusion replacing malice, while Marlon just laughs. It's a small victory, but enough to send a rush of adrenaline through my veins.

"Lexa!" Elder Judith's warm voice cuts through the tension, bringing with it a sense of respect that the young brutes cannot ignore. Her silver hair catches the sunlight like spun moonbeams, and she carries an authority that demands attention.

"Your deliveries are crucial to our survival," she says, her eyes softening as they meet mine. "The herbs you brought last week... they saved little Evan's life."

"Glad to be of service, Judith," I replied with a slight bow. "I'm happy the kid pulled through."

"As a thank you for your services." Her offer came without question.

"Thank you, Elder," I murmured as I reached out and took the small brown paper bag from her hand.

"It may not be much, but I know you rarely stop for lunch. Rogue or not, you still need to eat," Judith scolds gently. My wince at her words does not go unnoticed.

"Thank you." And there it is – the relationships I have built with each delivery over the last seven years. The recognition that, despite being a rogue, I am still a person.

As Judy's farewell echoes in my mind, I settle back into the driver's seat and grip the wheel with steady hands. The freightliner roars to life, a familiar sound that calms my racing heart. With each turn of the large tires on the gravel road, I leave behind one pack enclave and head towards another, delivering goods along the way.

The road stretches out before me, winding through lush forests and open meadows where the grass sways like an emerald ocean. My eyes scan for subtle markers, guiding me to each hidden community.

Finally, the truck comes to a halt and dust settles around us like a weary sigh. I step out, feeling the strain of the long drive in my muscles, but it soon eases. The scent of pine and earth greets me like an old friend, just as familiar as the faces of the guards at each entrance.

"Lexa!" A burly shifter with a scar tracing his jawline grins widely as he approaches me. "Didn't think you'd make it with that storm brewing up north."

"Storms wait for me, Cal," I reply confidently as I hand over my ID. Laughter erupts from the guard tower, their respect for my determination evident in their smiles and cheers.

Cal surveys my vehicle for any signs of wear and asks, "Did you encounter any difficulties on the road?"

“Nothing unusual.” I replied cheerfully, relieved that this is my final delivery for today. Afterward, I'd have a fifty-mile drive back to the depot. “I've got ten packages for you,” I announced as I opened the rear doors of my delivery truck.

“Not too bad then. We can receive them here instead of having you drive all the way to the center,” Cal offers thoughtfully. “No need to risk it in this storm.”

I quickly jumped into the back and gathered the packages for them, grateful for their offer which would save me nearly thirty minutes of driving time.

"Anything else you need?" I asked, closing the truck's doors with a sturdy thud.

"Just for you to stay safe out there," Cal shouts back, and the rest of the group murmurs their agreement.

"Always," I assured them, climbing back into the driver's seat. My heart swells with quiet pride. Despite being a rogue, I have found my place among these scattered communities. Our bonds are forged through dependability, not blood.

The engine hums to life under my hands like a steady heartbeat. The shadows lengthen, signaling the end of another day. Deliveries are finished, but I have one final task to complete.

I reached for my cell phone and dialed Thomas, who has the route next to mine. He answers in just two rings with a gruff but cheerful "What's up girlfriend?"

"Hey buddy," I replied, my voice tired but relieved that my day is almost over. "Everything going smoothly on your end?"

"Smooth sailing," he replied with a satisfied tone. "Thanks for checking in. See you at the depot?"

"Definitely. See you there." I hung up, reassured that he was doing well.

As I drove towards the depot, I reached over and grabbed a ham and cheese sandwich from the brown paper bag that Elder Judith handed me earlier. She always makes sure I have something to eat during my deliveries, knowing that I often forget to take care of myself in my rush to get everything done.

As I make my way towards the depot, I see familiar faces – other delivery drivers like myself who are making their final rounds. Some nod in greeting, others wave as we pass each other. We may work alone most of the time, but at these moments we are a part of something bigger than ourselves.

31 Mars 2024 18:31 0 Rapport Incorporer Suivre l’histoire
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