Snagged by the Rogue [COMPLETED]

6.

Anaya.

Sunlight slowly filtered in through the small window in my room.

I hadn't slept a wink all night, staring at the same spot on my ceiling. I lay still as the room got brighter and brighter, moving would mean remembering yesterday's events and I did not want to remember.

I had stopped crying sometime during the night in that tears weren't rolling out of my eyes anymore, but my heart still hurt as it was a wet cloth and somebody was wringing water out of it.

I could hear muffled voices coming from the living room, my name tossed around a bit.

According to rogue customs, we would bury my father today. I didn't think I was ready for that.

Don't get me wrong, my father and I had never been extremely close, especially following my mom's death. Werewolves can barely survive without their mates but somehow, my father did. But it came at the cost of him never praising Tim and never acknowledging me unless absolutely necessary.

I looked a lot like my mother, same black hair, same facial structure and features but where I had dark brown eyes, my mother had the prettiest pair of blue eyes. I think that's why my father was so distant, I reminded him too much of his dead mate.

Something dropped in my chest as I remembered mates. I'd found mine, at the worst time ever. I'd never wanted a mate. Partly because I didn't think I would ever find mine. Life as a rogue isn't a very social one, I almost never meet new people so finding my mate was quite unrealistic. 

But even then, I'd spent the time between when I turned 18 and now, a long two years, deciding that I didn't need a mate. The idea of 'mates', that the Moon goddess creates just one person for you to spend eternity with just doesn't sit right with me. What if you blow it? What if, like my father, your mate dies? Then you're left a hollow shell of yourself until death claims you.

It's unnecessarily cruel.

A soft knock sounded at my door before it slowly opened, revealing Sonya, "Anaya, good morning."

I didn't answer, I didn't move.

She sighed and moved further into the room, coming to sit on my bed.

She peered at my face and sighed again, "You didn't sleep. We have to start the funeral preparations sweetie."

I let her pull me up, strip me, wrap me in a towel and push me into the bathroom.

She closed the door behind me, leaving me alone, trusting that I had the capability to wash myself.

I stood there for a few minutes before realising I was being stupid. Me being like this wasn't going to help anybody.

I stepped into the small bathtub. We didn't have hot water in our cottage so we had to boil water on the stove for bathing, something somebody, presumably Sonya, had been kind enough to do for me.

I crossed quickly from the bathroom to my room when I was done.

Choosing what to wear wasn't difficult seeing as I had only one thing that resembled formal wear.

It was a black dress my father had gotten for me when I was 15 to attend Sam's funeral. Sam had been a member of the group before he ran mad and killed himself.

I paused for a moment, I'd forgotten about Sam.

I dug the dress out and pull it on. From the struggle it takes the get it over my head, I know it's not going to fit. Sure enough, it stops about 3 inches below my butt. Thankfully, the material is stretchy so it's not too tight.

I look for my only pair of black tights and pull then on, covering my exposed skin. Deciding it would have to do, I put shoes on and leave my room.

In the living room are Sonya, Bolik, and Luther. Everybody else had left, not surprisingly.

Six eyes full of pity fall on me as I enter the room.

"C'mon guys, let's do this," I didn't think there was any need prolonging the inevitable.

"He's outside already," Sonya said softly.

I pushed outside to find a hurriedly constructed coffin that explained the sawing I'd heard all night. Inside, was my father, looking as though he was sleeping.

Tears threatened at fall again but I stopped them, I needed to be strong.

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The funeral was short, Sonya being the only religious one among us. She said some short prayers that we murmured 'Amen' to and we were done. My father had gone the opposite of the way he lived, quietly.

We buried him by the side of the house, beside my mother's grave. I think he would have like that. Even though her grave was empty, I think he would have like the idea of being next to his mate.

Sonya left immediately after, promising that she'd come back at some point to check on me.

Leaving Bolik and Luther outside, I returned into the cottage. Something leads me to my father's room and I stand in the doorway, looking around the small space. I was never allowed in here although I'd snuck in a few times when I was smaller.

The bed is unmade so I go in and make it, making sure the corners are neatly tucked in.

I jump when I turn around and find Bolik in the doorway, looking at me.

"You scared me!"

His eyes are dark as he slowly runs his eyes over my body, "You know, you look real nice in that dress."

The goosebumps that seemed to perpetually be on my skin when Bolik was around broke out again.

I make to leave the room but he doesn't budge from the doorway, choosing instead to wrap an arm around my waist.

He pulls me flush against his body, "You know it's just me and you now baby."

I struggle to extricate myself from his grip, "In your dreams."

He laughed, "Well, yeah, it's been my dream for a while now but now, it's finally a reality. Who's going to stop me huh? The others have gone back to their lives and you, you my dear, you have no family. You're all alone in this world."

Tears prickle at the edges of my eyes, "My father isn't even cold in the ground yet. You're supposed to be his friend."

"He got what he deserved. But I consider myself a benevolent man. You have nothing. But I'm letting you have me."

"No, thank you," I try again the move his hand from my body.

He laughed, making my blood run cold, "You think you have a choice."