A morning of picking up whatever edible and valuable I could find didn’t exhaust me and my basket was already full of mushrooms. I headed east, keeping an eye out for more mushrooms to pick up throughout my journey. Rogues and packs occasionally traded along pack borders to keep the territory safe but, because I was a runt, this pack allowed me to cross their border if only I am heading to their market and left as soon as possible. Runts were rarely thought to be dangerous. It worked out in my favor in some ways. In other, unfavorable ways, runts were regarded as a burden and annoyance, which caused me nothing but trouble and discrimination.

I walked slowly through the market. When I had to enter a pack's territory, my heart always pounds and my nerves are tensed. If someone decided to attack me as a rogue, I had no protection from the guards or fighters. The members of the pack mostly ignored me, as if I were a clump of dirt rolling past them. I'd been living near the pack's border for a few years, so I wasn't exactly a novelty. The Alpha of this pack allowed me to come to the market whenever I wanted in exchange for the promise that I would not cause any trouble and would alert them, by howling, if I saw anything dangerous approaching their borders.

I took a step toward an elderly lady behind a food stall. When she saw me, she looked up and welcomed me with a smile. "Ah, Etheral. Nice to see you this lovely morning. I hope the western border is quiet? No rogues or feral wolves?" she asked.

"Good morning. It is good to see you looking so well. Things have been pretty quiet in the forest borders, although I have seen a black bear on and off throughout the week, they were harmless," I said softly to the kind, elderly lady. Speaking in a low voice made me appear somewhat meek, but it seemed to deter most wolves from trying to pick a fight with me. As much as possible, I try not to irritate the wolves in this pack, guards would surely defend their pack more than a runt – even if I am the victim in the story.

“I will let the others know about the bear, that is to keep an eye on the young ones if ever that bear returns and cause a problem.” I hummed and nodded in my response. Then she asked, “What do you have in store for me today? Will the usual trade work?" she inquired as I lifted the cloth of the basket and moved it closer to her so she could inspect the mushrooms. She nodded, which means all the mushrooms are fine, and she turned around to bag several loaves of bread for me. This lady had always traded fairly with me and didn’t use my ‘runt’ feature to manipulate me.

The bread was dense and grainy, the kind that filled you up quickly and kept you full for a long time. She didn't ask if the mushrooms were edible, as they rarely did that at this point.

Well, when I first started trading, they inspected everything, but after a year of trading plants I brought that turns out to be edible, they stopped their never-ending inspection. At the age of twenty-two, I had spent nearly half of my life as a rogue and had been taught by a number of rogues I had met along the way about the plants in the forest. Almost every edible plant in the forest was already familiar to me and the

poisonous ones were always avoided.

We spoke for a few moments before someone else approached her stall, and I take it as a sign that it was time to leave. I said my goodbyes and turned to return to no man's land. I kept an eye on the wolves watching me as I walked slowly through the crowded market. To avoid drawing attention to myself, I walked slowly and simply ignore… all of them.

As I was nearing the gates, I saw two people kissing on a bench. I wasn't surprised to learn that they were mates because I was certain of it even before that girl turned eighteen last week. They just had that passion in their stares and had gravitated towards each other even before they were old enough for their mate bond to form.

I looked around but didn't see the Beta or Alpha. The two men were probably out meeting other Alphas and working trades while dealing with the never-ending world of politics. I could see their mates helping out at the market. The Alpha and Beta were usually concerned with policy and relationships with other packs, whereas their mates, the Luna and Beta female, were usually concerned with smaller details and events within the pack.

I watched as a large man crossed my path without looking at me. He was one of the pack's enforcers, and he was most likely on his way over to break up a growing argument at one of the shops. If the Alpha and Beta were not in the immediate vicinity, they relied on enforcers to keep the peace within their territory.

Enforcers helped to keep the peace by enforcing the law. They are skilled fighters who could usually match the speed and strength of an Alpha if a fight erupted in the pack. At any given time, a pack usually had one or two enforcers, and they almost never went outside the pack's borders. They, like Alphas and Betas, were born with enforcer abilities. A wolf simply could not choose to become an enforcer, even if a wolf trains for years.

The enforcer glanced at me and nodded then continued on his way, clearly on some sort of task. I guess it’s a tough role to become an enforcer in a pack where hardheaded pack members reside. I could even hear the wolves fighting from afar but I wouldn’t dare to look back and stay here anymore to gossip.

Then I saw an Omega walking towards a shop. Another rank, the lowest rank, can be given to a wolf in a pack. Packs rarely abused Omegas anymore because it threw the pack off balance. Omegas may be the pack's lowest-ranking member, but their presence allowed the other members to unwind. With so many higher-ranking and powerful pack members constantly around, people could become uneasy and get intimidated. But if an Omega is present, the hierarchy of power is stabilized.

Omega abilities are precious. They could sense another person’s emotion, especially when the Alpha is irritated, and they could disappear in seconds to avoid the Alpha’s rage. Omegas had a sixth sense for trouble too. If an Omega appeared nervous and moved quickly, it meant that something is wrong. But if an Omega appeared to be relaxed, it meant that everything was fine.

Surprisingly, the Alpha and Beta traits were typically heritable, whereas Omega and runt genes were only inherited by their children about half of the time. The other half of the time, they appeared randomly in normal families. Just like in my family. None of my ancestors and parents had runt genes. So, there has never been a runt wolf in the family. I had just appeared out of nowhere.

"There she is again, that runt."

"I'm not sure why she's allowed in here without a guard, given that she's a rogue."

"So? Ha! She is a runt. She might chew on your slippers, but she is incapable of doing any other damage." One of them snickered.

I pretended not to hear them and ignored their insults. I refused to take the bait. Anything I say will enrage them and draw their attention. I couldn't figure out why they were always trying to rile me up. My wolf form was nearly useless in a fight as a runt, and my human form was weaker than the average. But being a rogue for nearly a decade, I'd learned a lot of tricks over the years for beating or evading an opponent from a distance. I could watch them for hours if they went out to no man's land and they wouldn't even notice I was there.

But in this case, I am in the market on their pack territory and everything is at my disadvantage. I would rather back up and let them say whatever they dislike about me.

"It's not like she'll ever find a mate, so I'm not sure why she keeps coming here to trade; too bad she doesn't bother another pack."

"Perhaps she's looking to see if someone who has lost a mate will take her in." "Like that's ever going to happen..."

“Yeah, a lone wolf without a family is already destined to die forever alone. You know, I think she’s the reason why her whole pack died.”

“How horrifying. She shouldn’t stay near our borders. What a dumb decision to let an unmated runt and deadly rogue walk free in our territory.”

I clenched my teeth silently as my rage flared under the surface. I was aware of the old adage that runts rarely get mates. Look at the enforcers. They, too, rarely found their mates, but no one ever judged them for it. It was heartbreaking to see couples happily in love, knowing that you would most likely never have that opportunity. Furthermore, those who have lost a mate are rarely able to move on and never considered marrying another who has also lost a mate. The mate bond was a strong force that defied natural emotions.

I was fine with the fact that I can never find my mate. But they didn't have to hammer it to my face that my pack was slaughtered just because I am a runt. I didn’t kill them. Those damned feral wolves ambushed my original pack and killed them.

I took a deep breath and all I could detect were the usual smells of the market

and the nearby forest. There was no trace of an unusually enticing scent. I remembered my mother said that a strong odor was usually the first indication that one's mate was nearby but there wasn’t.

I was finally out of their earshot and at the forest's edge. I sped up to a jog and almost teared up when the memories of my original pack reeled back to my mind. It would be half an hour before I could re-enter no man's land. At this point, all I wanted was to enjoy the noise of the forest and away from the people who enjoyed seeing another person in pain.

I checked my bag and I had caught two rabbits, mutton for today’s meal, and was thankful for it because I hadn't seen any rabbits on the way back in no man’s land. I headed south to a small and well-hidden smokehouse I had built to smoke the meats I caught. If I ate in one form – human form or wolf form – then I am full in my other form as well. Because my wolf shape was so small, I usually ate in my wolf because I’d get full quickly and it allowed me to stretch my food supply much further, saving the extra meat for the next days.

Eating raw meat is not a problem in my wolf form but I prefer it cooked and clean at least. As I wait for the food to cook, I sharpened the tip of my arrows and took big feathers out of my bag. Bow and arrow, are quite good with this weapon actually than melee combat. As I said, I wasn’t built to be strong and big compared to other normal wolves, I had to use different tactics and weapons to survive in no man’s land.

I looked at my reflection in a pot of water, and my blue-colored eyes returned my gaze. My brown shoulder-length hair was braided and kept on the right side of my shoulder. Then I stood up – I wasn't the tallest person in my human form, standing just over five feet tall, but I had seen shorter people. My slender frame was designed for speed rather than strength but I do wish I was born normal. I could’ve helped my parents on that day the feral wolves attacked my original pack.

I crouched and scanned the surroundings, feeling uneasy for some sudden reason. I quickly climbed to the tree I'd been leaning against and peered down through the branches. My instincts were sharp, and I didn't want to question nor doubt them, even if I didn't know what triggered them. It had kept me out of trouble on numerous occasions in the past.

Then I heard a faint noise below and I turned my gaze in that direction. I squinted through the dense foliage and there I saw eight wolves stalking silently through the forest. No, there were twelve of them. Several people had been lingering further back. I didn't recognize their fur patterns, and the way they moved made my skin crawl and chills slide down my nape to my spine.

I came to a halt when I noticed their red eyes. Wild, merciless wolves… these are feral wolves. Bloodthirsty creatures who killed animals, including other wolves, even when they are not hungry. They were the closest a wolf could get to insanity. They couldn’t even shift. Although some of their human craftiness and reasoning ability remained in their permanent wolf form, their human mind was nowhere to be found. One can never reason with a feral wolf once your head is close to its mouth. Certain feral wolves appeared to be driven to kill anything, anyone they saw, almost as if they were rabid, crazy, and heartless.

I didn’t move an inch and remained silent until they were completely out of my sight. I began moving through the forest quietly, using large branches high above the ground. I met a rogue when I was twelve, his name was Raphal, and he showed me how to travel through these branches years ago. Raphal referred to it as the forest highway.

Werewolves rarely traveled through the trees because their huge wolf form was better suited to run along the ground, not to mention the fact that they would have to be in human shape to travel from branch to branch.

I used the forest highway a lot because my wolf form was small and very few people looked up into the trees. Another advantage of traveling through the trees was that scents high up in the forest were nearly impossible to track from the ground – that is if anyone on the ground picked up the scent at all.

It was unlikely that the feral wolves would smell me. I had a habit of rubbing a mixture of local plants on my clothing and skin to mask my own wolf scent. The majority of rogues did it out of habit. We smelled like the forest, that’s how we survive and avoid one-to-group fights with feral wolves and other wild animals.

I shifted into my wolf form while carefully perching on a thick branch when I was quite a distance from where I had been. I threw up my head and howled an alarm into the almost evening sky. The pack sentries would hear it and be on high alert in case any trouble arose. The feral wolves may be planning on ambushing the east pack.

I quickly shifted back and used the forest highway to put some distance between myself and the location where I had howled. Those feral wolves obviously heard the howl and might try to track down the wolf that had alerted the east pack of their presence.

If ever my location is discovered, I was relieved that they couldn't transform into humans and climb into the trees to chase me. But it would be even better if they never found me at all. I really didn't want to be followed and chased by tenacious and aggressive wolves on the ground below. All of my rogue life, the chase could always mean my death and last breath. I moved through the tree branches quickly and quietly. The only animals who noticed my presence were the birds and squirrels.

As I sat high in a spruce tree, I kept an eye on the ground. I must have been lucky because I had not seen or smelled the feral wolves throughout the afternoon and evening. I hadn't heard anything from the border, either, so the feral wolves might have abandoned their ambush when their cover was blown by my howl. I stayed close to the smoker while it smoked the rabbit meat. The smoke was carefully funneled up a long piece of pipe into the tree canopy until the scent became faint and scattered.

I have been nervous and on the edge since the feral wolves appeared. Tonight, I didn't want to be on or under the ground. Feral wolves were persistent enough to break up bramble branches until they were close enough to dig up any burrow I used to hide. It may have taken them the majority of the day to completely get me out of a deep burrow, but logic didn't really apply to them so they wouldn’t mind spending a lot of energy on digging until I am caught and dead. They will and forever chase me even if I stop running.

My small wolf form did have another advantage. I was small enough to change

forms without falling out of a tree. It was a skill that no normal-sized wolf could accomplish. Because the sun was setting and I didn't want to be out after dark tonight, I took the forest highway to go over to the tree with a deep, hollow hole.

Years ago, when I first came to this place, I built a small structure – a hiding place – in a nearby tree. It appeared to be an old hawk nest, but it had a deep hole and was hollow. The inside was a little larger than the rabbit den, so it was the right size for my wolf form. I also made a nest on the highest part of a tree in case this type of trouble arose.

I settled on top of the bulk tree with a tree hollow. I carefully shifted into my human form and arranged the nest to my liking. I sat in the middle of it, getting cozy and my head resting atop my front paw while watching the sunset. As I yawned, I heard a movement in the forest below. I looked down and saw a small group of wolves slowly making their way towards the east pack border. It was those feral wolves once more. I had already warned the pack, so I stayed put. Once the feral wolves walk past, I decided that I should just sleep inside the tree hollow rather than in this nest.

***

I awoke hours later to howls in the distance. My ears perked up and my wolf body sneaked into the deepest part of the tree hollow. The feral wolves appeared to have launched their attack. Unfortunately for the feral wolves, I recognized the howls of dozens of other fighters winning the battle as well as the howl of the defeated cries from the feral wolves and their failed ambush.

Feral wolves preferred to hunt at night, and the pack had clearly been expecting them. As I drifted off back to sleep, I wondered if they had captured all of the feral wolves or if some had escaped. I do hope they had captured all of them for my night may become more and more petrifying like sleeping in the devil’s den.

As the birds began to sing on the new day, I awoke. It sounded like a lovely and nice way to wake up in novels and fairytale books, but birds start singing at an alarmingly early hour, snapping me awake in exasperation. The sun had not yet risen. This was one of the reasons I preferred the rabbit burrow; I could sleep until daybreak if I wanted to – no bird sound to wake me up. I shook my head and yawned. I scratched my ear before jumping down and moving in a stealthy manner toward the smoker. Before I could nibble daintily on a piece of smoked mutton, I smelled the surroundings for any traces of the feral wolves. After finishing the mutton, I returned to the tree, followed the forest highway through the branches, and waited for the sun to fully rise.

Hours later, I didn't see any movement at this time of day, but I couldn't trust scents this high in the trees because the light breeze was whisking away the smells of anything below. I shifted to my human form and returned to the forest highway to check on the smoker.

I never walked on the ground beneath my tree penthouse for fear of drawing attention to myself, so I waited until I was back at the smoker before carefully scanning the ground and climbing down. It's tedious to secure the premise of no man's land, but it's become a routine to know that I'm safe. Having no one to protect you stinks, but I can't force myself into a pack anymore. I'm useless to them, as the packs who turned me down said.

I grabbed a handful of willow leaves from a shrub and lightly rubbed them on my arms and clothing before venturing into another day of scavenging dead animals, possibly hunting one, harvesting edible plants, and in the hopes of finding rubies as well. I did the same thing with pine needles last night. I alternated between plants so that my scent didn't smell too strongly of any one of them. This is how a rogue runt like me survives in no man's land. I unintentionally smacked the pouch hanging from my belt, causing it to fall to the ground. When it hit the ground, it made a low, jingling sound. And just as I was about to pick up the pouch, I heard a twig break nearby, and its crunch echoed in my ears. My breathing became constricted as I twisted my head to inspect the area. Except for trees and shrubs, I didn't see anything. It could have been a rabbit or any of a dozen other creatures common in this area, but I wasn't about to take any chances. To be safe, I ducked down and shifted before scooting beneath a small bramble bush.

My blue pupils narrowed to a thin line. I perked up my ears and swiveled them back and forth, listening for any sounds of a breathing creature. I couldn't hear anything, which concerned me much. The small songbirds had stopped singing. Harmless creatures in no man's land have always ignored my human presence and runty wolf form, but they've fled this time... implying that another predator is nearby.

I sat for a long time, peering out from under the bramble bush. I didn't hear anything or smell anything else. I stayed in my hiding spot for a long time before the birds began to sing again, indicating that the predator had most likely left the area. I heaved out a sigh, relief to feel safe again.

I was thirsty and exhausted from being on high alert for so long. Maybe I should go check on the nearby pack and ask how the fight between the guards and feral wolves ended. I wanted to know if any of the feral wolves had escaped.

I crept out from under the shrub and trotted past it. A flash of dashing brown and tan fur from the corner of my eye stopped me dead in my tracks. I swung my head in the direction I'd seen the creature chasing me, but I couldn't see it any longer. My heart began to beat faster; that color was similar to a cougar. I'm one dead meat.

I pricked my ears and tilted my head in concentration; it had been a long time since I decided to use my Omega abilities. I may no longer be an Omega in a pack, but my limited abilities remained. This was my last option, so I activated my Omega senses. Wolves, those pursuing me are wolves. They didn't have the aura or smell that the feral wolves did, so they were just another pack of werewolves. I took a deep breath and counted the number of wolves chasing me. They were arranged in a half-circle facing me. At this point, they were unable to see me, although the tan one in front of me had gotten a glimpse of me and had likely alerted the others through their mindlink.

The wind shifted, and I finally smelled them. My pupils dilated with nervousness. It was a pack scent - and it wasn't one I'd ever scented before. It was stronger because these were high-ranking wolves. Pack rules didn't really apply in no man's land, and some packs were well known for attacking rogues for fighting practice even when the rogues had done nothing wrong. My Omega senses informed me that they were focused on me and trying to locate me, despite the fact that they couldn't detect me because I had hidden my wolf scent when I rub leaves on my human body.

I took a few slow steps back as my heart rate increased and my breathing became shallow; this was not a good situation. I couldn't climb a tree fast enough to avoid full-grown wolves, and they could easily transform into humans in pursuit of me. In either case, their endurance would outlast mine. I wasn't near any large bramble bushes, and even a small one wouldn't protect me from four determined wolves.

But the fact that they had remained hidden for at least a half-hour while waiting for me to emerge was not a good sign. And now the question was, do they intend to harm me? Will they come after me if I run away? Most friendly rogues or pack members would shift into human form and call out. So, I assumed that these wolves seek only trouble and waited in ambush.

The scents were all male, and my Omega senses told me they were tough fighters. This worried me a lot. I almost wished a feral had gotten away from the other pack and found these full-grown wolves before they found me.

As a dark brown shape skulked in the long grass, my eyes darted to the side. As he crept forward, his belly almost touched the ground as he tried to stay out of sight. His eyes met mine and widened as he realized I had noticed his presence. I spun around and ran as fast as my small feet could carry me in the opposite direction. My heart sank as I heard four sets of footsteps close behind. Damn this, not another chase.

I used strategies that many small animals used, such as trying to go where larger creatures couldn't. I dashed under a few small bramble bushes and continued out the other side. They had to take a detour to reach me under the bushes, so it was an advantage, given that I am slow and would pause for a second to catch my breath. As I tried to stay alive during this chase, my heart was racing faster than my feet.

My steps slowed as I realized two of the wolves had sped ahead on a larger circuit and were waiting to catch up with me. I launched towards a tree and ricocheted off at a ninety-degree angle without slowing down.

One of the wolves trailing me was able to easily correct his sight toward my new direction and gain speed. His other companion had been right on my tail and was moving too fast for me to change direction so quickly. He'd take a moment to catch up, but the tan one was closing in. Damn this wolf, his pursuit of me caused me to panic and almost lose my balance.

There were no larger bramble bushes to hide under in this area, nor did there appear to be any other type of shelter. I wasn't going to be able to keep up this pace for much longer, and the pursuing wolves were getting closer.

I spotted a black hole under a small bramble bush and dashed toward the rabbit burrow. As the tan wolf circled, I dashed under the bramble bush's edge. He was expecting me to come out the other side like I always did, and it gave me the extra seconds I needed to squeeze down the rabbit tunnel. He would have caught me if he had stayed on my tail. He had not expected me to fit into a rabbit burrow.

As I examined the rabbit burrow, I felt a brief sense of relief. The rabbit who dug this burrow had obviously not lived long enough to complete it. There were no escape tunnels, and the den was dangerously close to the surface. In the cramped den, I turned around with great difficulty.

The tunnel was only about twice as long as a human arm and was almost completely straight. As I panted, I could clearly see the bramble bush above the tunnel opening. I silently prayed that the bramble bush would deter them and that they would not notice how shallow this burrow was.