The Alpha's Rogue ✔️

13 | No More Games

3680 words

"I don't think I've ever been this tired, not even at Alpha training camp where they once kept us awake for forty-six hours straight."

"Ouch, torture much?" Phoenix spoke around a mouth full of lasagna, his eyes intent on the Alpha draped over the couch.

"Exactly. They were training us to stay strong under different torture methods. They would have been more effective if they'd shot us with silver bullets, waterboarded us, then stuck us in a roomful of riotous rogues. Then I would've been completely prepared for anything."

After returning to Zion's house, Savannah had been met with a dozen strangers all talking loudly, drinking, snaffling the remaining food in the house, and not listening to a word she said when she kindly asked them to settle down.

She'd collapsed onto the couch with an acute headache as soon as some order had regained control. Apparently, Willow wanted to liven things up after spending a boring afternoon eating ice cream alone. The story went that today was Roger's birthday, and Willow had planned to propose to him that they become mates officially.

"I almost feel bad for killing her boyfriend," Savannah had whispered to Phoenix as she watched Willow drinking and dancing with a guy covered in tats and piercings.

"You should. He was the first guy she ever got serious with. These others are just punks," Phoenix crumpled the empty cup in his hand, his eyes narrowed on the rowdy men partying in the living room, their manners non-existent as they drank and hooted with abandon.

"Aren't you a punk yourself?" Savannah eyed his unruly hair and dark scowl, and the tattoos that crawled over his shoulder. The tank he was wearing accentuated his muscled and inked torso, making Savannah wonder at the stories behind the painted canvas of his skin. She shivered just at the thought of the sordid tales they probably represented.

"Hardly," he'd responded.

"Hey, don't deny you enjoyed kissing that shewolf. I saw how cozy you two were earlier. You're enjoying the party just as much as those punks," the Alpha gave him a hard look.

Phoenix just shrugged, then disappeared into the kitchen to help Talei make some dinner. Now, as he munched away on a bowl of salad, Savannah grovelled about her sore head.

"Why don't you just go to bed?" he challenged.

"I'm afraid to ask where I'm sleeping. Last time I did that, Zion said—"

"You're sleeping in my room," Zion finished her sentence as he walked into the living room.

"See what I mean?" Savannah cast weary eyes at Phoenix.

He shook his head in confusion. "What's so bad about being with your mate? I mean, didn't you come here to be with him and get to know him?"

"I can do that without having to sleep in the same bed as him. I'm afraid one of us might wake up dead in the morning."

"Wake up dead? I think that's an oxymoron..." Phoenix scratched his smooth chin.

"Whatever. I'm too tired to care."

"Well, I'm not, and you're coming with me," Zion leaned down and scooped her up, ignoring her protests and fists that collided with his arms and chest.

"Cale, help!" she yelled to her Gamma from over the rogue's broad shoulder.

He just shrugged and continued eating while watching the tv. "Don't ask me for help. I already have to share a room with Phoenix."

Savannah made a disgusted sound in her throat. "What's the point of having a gamma if they don't stick up for you?" Then a wave of indignation engulfed her as her keen ears picked up the murmured conversation between the rogues in the dining room. They were making bets on whether she and Zion would do the deed, or end up killing each other.