"Are they the same rogues that attacked our king a few weeks ago?" Athena's question makes me draw a sharp breath, making the entire room fixate their eyes on me again.

When things couldn't get any worse, I just found out that the reason Lyall was wounded in the forest when I found him was because of rogue werewolves. My species.

I gulp hard, hoping no one would hear it.

"Probably," Lyall answers ever so casually, "If so, they should be easy to take care of. I took care of seven of them myself."

"And yet you almost didn't make it back if it was not for Mars," Naver must be the only person in the room that dares to poke the lycan king with his forefinger and grins widely.

It takes me a few seconds to understand what Naver is doing so casually; he is telling everyone in the room implicitly that even though I am a werewolf; I helped their king. Lyall could probably go back to the kingdom on his own. In fact, he was the one who helped me against Mason.

Yet instead of denying Naver's claim, Lyall shrugged and said, "That's true." His eyes meet mine. "My mate saved me."

Those four words echo in the entire room and it is enough to reduce the intensity in some people's eyes. I breathe a little lighter thanks to Naver and Lyall.

"And for that, we will always be indebted to Mars," Athena chimes in.

With no one noticing, Naver winks at me, which draws a small smile to my lips.

I'm not completely alone in this foreign kingdom, after all.

"It's abnormal for rogues to band together," Roy directs the conversation back to the original topic. This dark-haired man with a scar on his upper lip says, "But they have almost created an entirely new pack now and have worked together to rampage our small villages. This is a larger scale operation than we're used to getting from rogues."

Rogues are werewolves that got banned from a pack, usually because they break the alpha's rules or... they just upset the alpha. They have a burn scar shaped like a half-moon on their necks, which is a permanent mark of their rogue identities. Normally, as soon as the mark is etched on a rogue werewolf's skin, that person will lose their bond with the pack and alpha, which is a permanent loss. Rogues generally will avoid packs, making it very hard for them to join another pack and, reversely, other packs rarely enjoy the company of rogues. They also avoid other rogues because their instincts have been transformed into one-man-survival mindsets. I've even heard stories of rogues fighting with each other for food and territory.

In a way, it's like a curse. Once they bear the mark, they will find it hard to trust or even bond with anyone ever again.

So, Roy is right. It is abnormal for rogue werewolves to band together, even more, to band together for an attack.

"This is the second attack with a similar pattern," another man in a blue suit says, "Once they did it a week ago and if it wasn't for our king, who luckily was doing a visitation to the village, more of our people would be dead. Now, they have done it in Fidre village. They took out two of our guards guarding the southern wall and wreak havoc inside our territory."

"This is unacceptable!" Roy cries out with passion to the point I can see the veins bulging out on his temples. "No one messes with the lycans. How do they even get the power to take down our guards in the first place?"

I remember how Mason and his two betas ran away from Lyall, the Lycan King, despite them winning in numbers. Lycans are generally stronger than werewolves. Unlike werewolves who can shift into full wolves with four feet, lycans shift into humanoid wolves. Lycans stand on two feet, and have sharper senses and stronger strengths. One more thing that differentiates both of our species is the presence of our wolves' minds. Werewolves have two shared minds in one body, yet lycans only have one mind.

Back in my old pack, Alpha Mason always told us to stay away from any lycans, especially lycan warriors. I should have laughed at the irony because not only I am in the lycan kingdom now, I am mated with the Lycan King, one of their best warriors.

"Perhaps the myth is true," Naver says with a shrug. "Rogue werewolves either go to the human realm or wander alone near the Eclipse Lake. The story goes that once every blue moon, the Moon Goddess will appear on the lake and grant one rogue a wish. Perhaps one rogue wished to build a kingdom of rogues and to be able to take us down."

I've heard of the myth. The tale of how the kind-hearted Moon Goddess pities the rogues and decides to grant one wish for every blue moon. Alpha Mason liked to scold the children who whispered the story on the street because the tale makes people pity the rogues too. Some people think that if the Moon Goddess empathizes with the rogues, then we, her children, should, too. But Mason was adamant about enforcing the notion that rogues don't deserve any empathy, that rogues are pure criminals, deserving to wander all their lives in loneliness.

"But why us?" the man in the blue suit asks, "Why not have revenge on the alphas that banished them in the first place?"

Athena shrugs while playing with the small blade she just took out from her belt. "They probably stole our people's resources, Garma. Since they seem to be building a new pack, they'd need supplies, especially because winter is coming soon."

Garma, the man in the blue suit, shakes his head, "No, Princess. None of our people's valuable things were taken. The food silo and even the gold that some villagers have were left untouched."

"That's weird," Athena creases her brows, "What then that they need from our villages?"

When the realization hits me, I draw a sharp breath, not knowing that I have made the entire room look at me again. My hands raise up to cover my mouth, but it's too late now. Everyone knows that I have figured something out.

I look at Lyall, who nods slightly to me, encouraging me to speak. "Females...," I whisper. My eyes find Garma's eyes. "You said six females are missing from this recent attack. How many were missing from the first one?"

"Uh... two," Garma answers my question hesitantly. Although I can see it in his eyes that he's starting to make the connection, too.

"And the symbol on the victims, what is it like?"

"Uh..." Garma hesitates again. Just when he is about to open his mouth, Roy kicks him on the foot. I'm not stupid. I know Roy is telling Garma to not leak any information to me, a werewolf girl.

But Lyall then walks to stand next to me. He folds his hands on his chest as he looks down at his people. "Answer, Garma," he commands.

Sasha purrs delightedly inside me, seeing that our mate is defending us. If it's her, Sasha will have her tongue out in an instant to mock him. My wolf has always been a more daring soul than I am.

Garma looks conflicted for a few seconds. He keeps looking between Roy and Lyall. Cold sweats pour out from the large pores on his skin. But eventually, he looks down to his feet, avoiding Roy's intimidating stare, to answer my question, "It looks like number eight. The mark appears around the upper arm. But Ganesh might be able to describe it better."

Naver's twin, the old man wearing a blue scrub, steps forward. He gives me a warm smile. "Greetings, Miss Mars," he politely bows to me, "It's a pleasure to see the king's mate. We all have given hope he has one before you showed up."

"The victims that have the mark have been brought to the royal infirmary for further check-ups. And it's true, it looks like the number eight, or a circle with a straight line in the middle. But they are–"

Before Ganesh can finish his words, my mouth moves on its own, "Spider nevus. They are multiple spider nevus, the spider-like appearance of blood vessels on the skin caused by blood vessel lesion."

Ganesh widens his eyes. So does everyone in the room.

"Yes," Ganesh says, "How do you know that?"

Finding everyone's gaze is directed to me yet again, especially Lyall's intense stare, I gulp the lump in my throat.

"I know what that mark is," my voice is so small. I struggle to keep my lips from trembling. My fingers fidget even more. Instinctively, I look in the direction of the door and my heart plummets at how far it is from where I am standing. Even worse, I see Roy suddenly stepping to the door, blocking my view from the doorknob.

My heart beats so fast as fear creeps into me, almost paralyzing my feet. Without thinking, I slap the hand that is reaching out to me and flatten my back even more to the wall. My hand knocks on a standing lamp to wobble loudly.

"Mars, look at me," Lyall still has his hand hanging in the air. He was the one trying to reach out to me. I lock eyes with him and immediately, I feel a surge of warm feeling inserting itself into me through our bond. It's like he just wrapped a blanket around me without really doing it. "No one can hurt you on my watch."

Mentally, I can picture him standing in front of my mental wall. He caresses the wall slowly. With each touch, he sends warmth, and it calms my raging, fearful heart.

I have to blink a few times to make sure I wasn't imagining it. How can a man who cannot feel send me a calming emotion? Does he realize what he just did?

Lyall's mental caress comforts me because I believe I am safe with him next to me. I can see that the other people in the room look bewildered at our long stare at each other, especially because Lyall is showing a vulnerable, conflicted face, which I am sure he rarely does.

Yet his expression gives me the courage to speak even more. "In... in my old pack, they have this program to... um... to make procreation easier. The healers were divided into two big groups. One group worked to make sure the females were always fit and had the best chance of getting pregnant by manipulating their diet and advising them to do certain exercises. I was in this group."

I take a deep breath to calm the remaining wild beat in my heart. Looking at Lyall's eyes somehow gives me the comfort I need. "The other group worked with the military scientists to hormonally inject the females so their reproduction organs mature faster and um... a subgroup also worked to figure out how to make non-fertile females become fertile."

The room becomes so quiet as my sweat begins to drench my back. "But the substance they made was too strong for female werewolves. The females become fertile, but they also develop cancer as well as acute radiation syndrome. Most of them died in just a month, not enough time to deliver a baby. Mason shut that project down years ago and banished the project head from the pack."

"I don't understand," Roy asks, "What does the substance have to do with rogue werewolves kidnapping our females?"

Taking another deep breath, I then continue. "They kept the project highly secret. But a senior healer worked on that project and that's how I knew. Werewolves can't impregnate lycans, and faes. While the substance is too strong for all werewolves and humans, it only alters some physiological changes in other species."

The room falls deadly to silence.

I have spoken too much to stop now.

"With the substance, lycans and faes can be impregnated by werewolves but only the few that don't bear the fertility mark after injection. The mark is actually a side effect of the substance incompatibility with the body. The rogues must have kidnapped the lycan females that don't have the mark after injection to.. to..."

"To procreate," Roy finishes my sentence for me. His eyes are wide with horror. A second later, he switches to a murderous gaze and I am the recipient of his deadly stare. He growls, showing off his protruding fangs to me. "And this substance was created from your pack!"

I try to step back, forgetting that my back is already flat on the wall.

"Old pack," Lyall's voice stops Roy's growling as he steps in front of me. "Have you forgotten what I just said, Roy? Who is she?" His voice raises with each syllable.

Though fear has crept into me again, Sasha seems unfazed. My wolf trusts this lycan king to protect us. If that's not enough, Athena walks to stand in front of me too. At least I trust Athena.

Roy retracts his fangs and looks down at the floor. He tilts his head a bit to show his neck. A sign of submission. "Your mate, Your Highness," he whispers, "forgive my rude behavior."

After a moment of silence, Ganesh asks me, "How about seeing the mark in person to confirm your suspicion, Miss Mars?" He gives me a warm smile as if he doesn't realize the room's high tension.

–to be continued–