Runt [ManxMan]

Chapter Twelve

At first, he thought he must be imagining it. There were so many unfamiliar wolves around him, what was one more? Except this one didn't quite match the others, which all had the same underlying note of pack that had become familiar over the time he'd spent in the pack house. This scent didn't have that, which made it somehow more familiar than the others because he knew what that marked this wolf as.

A rogue.

And even more, now that he was focused on it, he realized the scent wasn't unfamiliar at all. This was not surprising, as he himself had been a rogue in the woods surrounding the pack for thirteen years and had come across a dozen or more others during this time. This wolf, in particular, was one he'd come across often, the most recent being only days before. His side still burned in memory of his last encounter with the rogue, and his lips peeled back from his teeth.

Despite what better judgement might have told him and what his brother clearly wanted, Mason took off toward the scent. Rogues were not known to really follow any rules, but there was a simple unspoken code and this rogue had broken it when he attacked Mason, and the omega didn't care that he was still wholly outmatched by the larger, more dominant wolf. He had something the rogue didn't have.

He had a pack now.

Mason broke into a small clearing occupied by four wolves. He quickly dismissed the three that smelled of pack and focused on his target, the rogue, who was bleeding from a wound near one of his hind legs but still defiantly snarling at the pack wolves.

The omega didn't hesitate to hurl himself toward the rogue, intent to get the blood he deserved. Unfortunately, one of the pack wolves stepped into his path and he collided with a hulkingly large wolf and promptly fell backward with a whine. It took a moment to pick himself back up, his head protesting the collision and his bum leg protesting the exertion from his sprint to get here, and he shook himself off before looking up at the wolf that had gotten into his way.

Only to fall back to his belly under the narrowed gaze of the alpha. The big wolf made no threatening moves toward the omega, but Mason could still sense the warning in his stance and Mason knew he wasn't meant to be here. Even as footsteps approached and Chase and Maverick broke into the clearing behind Mason, Dax didn't take his eyes from the omega.

Finally, apparently having decided he'd gotten his message across, Dax jerked his head to indicate for Mason to leave. The omega had no intention of obeying the order, however. He bared his teeth at the alpha, who took a small step back in response, leaving an opening just big enough for the omega to slip past.

His teeth snapped together inches from the rogue before he found himself on his side in the dirt with a large form hovering over him. He snarled angrily, trying to push the alpha off, but a warning growl from the wolf had his instincts finally winning out and he relaxed onto his side, baring his belly to the alpha.

"Mason!" His brother's voice had him tilting his head to see the beta-born had shifted and was crouched naked several feet away. He glanced warily at the rogue, who was now in a similar position to the omega but with two large, very agitated pack wolves hanging over him, before returning his attention to the omega. "What has gotten into you? Let the warriors handle the rogue. We should get back to the house where it's safe."

Mason bared his teeth at the thought. He wasn't some weakling who needed to run at the first sign of danger. He'd handled his own problems for thirteen years, and he wasn't going to rely on anyone else to do it now.

Above him, Dax had backed away a bit and a moment later he had shifted and was watching the omega, but Mason couldn't read the man as well as his brother could and couldn't tell what he was thinking. He didn't look angry, at least, but Mason still wasn't sure he liked having so much attention on him.