A Rogue For The Quadruplet Alpha's.

Maria.

I used my hands to part the bushes in front of me, pushing the rough branches aside as carefully as I could before taking another cautious step forward. Twigs snapped under my boots, leaves brushed against my arms, and the earthy scent of the forest filled my lungs. Behind me, I could hear Vincent’s steady footsteps, close enough to reassure me but far enough not to crowd me.

I had tried.

I had tried so hard to convince him to stay behind.

Argued.

Insisted.

Warned him.

But it had all been to no avail.

He was stubborn, far more stubborn than I had given him credit for, and once he set his mind on something, there was no shifting it. He was hell-bent on accompanying me, and in the end, I had no choice but to let him.

We had been walking for hours now.

The sun had long begun its descent, shadows stretching unnaturally long between the trees. The deeper we ventured toward the eastern stretch, the quieter it became. Even the birds had reduced their songs, replaced by the occasional rustle in the undergrowth.

And it was getting darker.

Too dark.

Vincent exhaled lightly behind me. "Hey... it’s getting a bit darker. Why don’t we sprint with our wolves?"

I stopped mid-step.

"What?" I turned slightly, blinking at him.

"Sprint," he repeated casually. "We’ll reach faster. Less exposure. Less risk."

It wasn’t a bad idea.

In fact, it was a very practical one.

In wolf form, we would move faster, quieter, and stronger. Three days could be shortened drastically if we ran through the night.

But to fully turn into my wolf....I would have to undress, in front of him.

And he would do the same.

Heat crept up my neck immediately.

I wasn’t sure I was ready for anyone to see me like that. Not even him. Not even my wolf had been fully embraced by anyone else before.

Vernia stirred inside me at his suggestion, restless and excited. She loved the wild. Loved the freedom of running beneath the moon.

But I suppressed her.

"Vincent..." I began, unsure how to voice my hesitation without sounding foolish.

He looked at me for a second, then something understanding softened his features.

"I get it," he said quickly. "I won’t look until you’re transformed. I promise."

My breath hitched.

It was almost as if he had reached inside my thoughts and pulled the worry straight out.

I bit my lower lip hard—so hard I was certain I might taste blood.

This was ridiculous.

We were rogues.

We were wolves.

Nature was not something to be ashamed of.

Still...

"Alright," I said finally, the word coming out firmer than I felt.

We had to move faster.

We had to avoid unnecessary danger.

Vincent nodded once and immediately turned his back to me, facing the opposite direction without hesitation.

That small act of respect eased something tight in my chest.

With trembling fingers, I began to remove my dress, piece by piece. The forest air brushed cool against my exposed skin, sending goosebumps across my arms. I folded the fabric quickly, setting it aside with the rest of my belongings.

For a moment, I stood there, bare beneath the rising moon.

Then I lifted my gaze upward.

The moon hung bright and full, silver light cascading through the treetops. I let the shift take me.

The first crack of bone echoed softly through the clearing. Pain flared briefly, sharp but familiar, as my spine arched and reshaped. My limbs elongated, muscles shifting beneath my skin. Breath caught in my throat before dissolving into a low growl.

Vernia surged forward.

Powerful.

Free.

Golden fur burst across my body as I completed the transformation, paws sinking into the forest floor. I threw my head back and howled, the sound rolling through the trees in wild exhilaration.

Vincent slowly turned.

He gasped.

"What a mighty wolf you have," he breathed in awe. "Can I touch your golden fur?"

Vernia bristled instantly.

Through the faint thread of the mind link, she projected a firm response.

"No."

Vincent blinked—then laughed.

"Alright, alright," he chuckled.

Then, without hesitation, he began removing his clothes.

In front of me.

I froze.

Human thoughts collided with wolf instincts.

He was....He was...broad-shouldered, strong.

The loose clothing rogues were given had hidden far more than I realized. Beneath it, his body was sculpted from training and survival, defined abs, firm lines, strength visible in every movement.

Heat flared beneath my fur.

Vernia huffed softly, unsettled.

I wanted....No.

I absolutely would not shift back.

The urge to reach out, to brush against him, to confirm that what I was seeing was real...was dangerously tempting.

But I stayed rooted in place.

He finished undressing and met my gaze briefly before the shift took him as well. His bones cracked sharply, the sound echoing faintly through the quiet stretch of forest. I watched, unmoving, as his body folded inward and then expanded, reshaping in a matter of seconds. Limbs lengthened, spine arched, fur burst through skin like light breaking through darkness....and in an instant, he transformed into a massive white wolf.

I stared.

He was bigger than I expected. Broad. Solid. His fur wasn’t just white, it shimmered faintly beneath the moonlight, almost silver at the tips. Powerful shoulders. Steady stance. There was something commanding about him in that form.

For a moment, I simply admired it.

There was no shame in that.

Wolves were beautiful.

Strong.

Free.

And seeing him like that, I couldn’t help but to think, which pack he came from. He was definitely of a high rank. Aside from that, something curious stirred inside me.

I couldn’t help it...I suddenly wondered what Noah’s wolf looked like.

Would he be dark? Golden? Larger than this?

And then, shamelessly, my thoughts drifted further.

What about the quadruplets?

Four Alphas.

Four wolves.

Would they look alike in their wolf forms? Or would each carry something distinct? Something that matched the differences in their personalities?

I shook my head slightly.

"Oh come on, Maria!" I scolded inwardly.

This was not the time for that.

Vernia huffed in amusement at my wandering thoughts, her tail flicking once in subtle mockery.

I threw my head back and howled in excitement instead, letting the sound roll through the trees, cutting off my spiraling imagination.

"Ready!" Vincent’s voice echoed through the mind link, strong and clear.

I lowered my head slightly, turning toward him.

"Your wolf....it looks good," I replied through the same mental thread, unable to stop myself from asking, "What’s its name?"

The question slipped out absentmindedly, curiosity overpowering my attempt at composure.

He seemed pleased by that.

"Marrok!" Vincent replied proudly. "That’s his name."

Marrok.

The name suited him.

Strong.

Solid.

Dependable.

Vernia gave a low approving rumble, acknowledging the introduction.

I bent down and used my teeth to pick up my folded clothes carefully, gripping the fabric firmly without tearing it. Vincent—Marrok—did the same, securing his bundle with practiced ease.

And in the next split second....we ran.

The forest rushed toward us again as we surged forward. Bushes parted beneath our strength, leaves scattering behind us. Our paws barely seemed to touch the ground.

The speed exhilarated me.

The power of my limbs, the way my body responded effortlessly, it felt intoxicating.

I had assumed I would be the slower one.

I always thought of myself as smaller, lighter, perhaps not built for long sprints.

But surprisingly....Vincent was.

Marrok’s stride was steady, but I found myself naturally pulling ahead at times. Vernia relished the challenge, stretching her legs further, testing her limits.

I slowed occasionally, waiting for him to catch up before pushing forward again.

We ran throughout the night.

Through thickets and shallow dips in the terrain.

Across small clearings where moonlight bathed the grass in silver.

Our breathing grew heavier, but neither of us complained. The rhythm of our movement became hypnotic, paws striking earth, lungs drawing cool air, the steady beat of heart against ribs.

The world shrank to instinct and direction.

Time blurred.

The darkness slowly softened as the first faint hints of dawn crept into the sky. The blackness shifted to deep blue, then to muted gray.

When the first rays of sunlight filtered through the trees, we finally slowed.

Exhaustion began to creep into my muscles now, not sharp, but insistent.

We reached a small clearing where the ground was relatively even and free of thick brush.

Vernia exhaled deeply, then allowed the shift to take over.

Bones cracked once more, fur retracting, limbs shortening, skin reforming as I returned to my human form. The cool morning air kissed my bare skin instantly, raising goosebumps along my arms.

Vincent shifted beside me, the transformation just as quick.

For a moment, we simply stood there, breathing heavily, catching our breath.

The sky above us glowed faintly with early light.

"We should rest," he murmured softly.

I nodded.

We dressed quickly and sat down against a thick tree trunk, exhaustion settling in like a heavy blanket. My muscles throbbed faintly, but it was manageable.

I closed my eyes, ready to take a short nap.

And then....a faint sound.

So soft it almost blended with the morning breeze.

But I heard it.

My heart skipped.

My eyes snapped open.

Something was there.