The next morning was ordinary. I patched Rowan’s lunch as he chattered on about school. Nothing was out of place.

       But something felt off. My wolf prickled; I felt restless.

       “Mama? What’s wrong?” Rowan asked, noticing my tension.

       I smiled at him, but before I could answer, a terrifying scream tore through the air. Rowan jumped, shocked, and my heart dropped.

       “Rowan, come here,” I said, my voice sharp as I dropped everything I was holding.

       “What’s wrong?” he asked, his small face confused.

       I didn’t answer immediately as the smell of blood hit my nose with a punch.

       “Now,” I snapped, grabbing his arm and pulling him close. I spied out the window. Through the glass, I saw them.

       Rogues.

       A pack of them ran through the streets, snarling and roaring loudly as they attacked anything in their way. Humans screamed and ran for safety.

       My heart pounded in my chest. I didn’t have to be told what they\\\'d do to a lone omega and her son.

       No. We had to leave.

       “Listen to me, Rowan,” I said, crouching down to his level. “We have to leave. Do exactly as Mama says, okay?”

       His eyes widened, but he nodded. “Okay, Mom.”

       I grabbed a small bag I kept ready for emergencies and pulled him toward the back door. We slipped out, running as quietly and quickly as we could. The sounds of screams grew louder.

       “Where are we going?” Rowan whispered, his voice trembling.

       “Somewhere safe,” I whispered back, scanning the area.

       The forest was too quiet, or maybe I was just being paranoid.

       I held Rowan’s hand tighter, ignoring the weird feeling in my gut.

       But then, I heard a low growl behind us. The wind shifted and a stench hit me. I turned, my blood running cold.

       A rogue wolf stood there, red eyes staring into me.

       “An omega?” I heard it say.

       No. No!

       “Run, Rowan!” I shouted, shoving my son forward.

       “But –”

       “Go!” I snapped. He could run faster than I could. He had to leave.

       He took off, and I turned to face the rogue. It didn’t even look at Rowan, drooling as it faced me.

       “And what do you want to do? Fight me?” it said with a laugh.

       I gripped the silver dagger in my pocket, feeling the slight burn from holding it. The rogue lunged at me, and I swung the dagger at it.

       It made a cut on its back. The wolf yelped but didn’t back down.

       I fought with everything I had. I needed to be safe. I couldn’t leave my son without a mother.

       Finally, I landed a hard blow to its head, and it collapsed. My chest heaved as I turned to find Rowan. He was close. I could still smell him.

       “Mom!”His scream suddenly pierced the air. My heart sank, and I pushed myself faster.

       I reached his position and saw a rogue lunge at him. Before I could get to him, the rogue‘s claws tore my son‘s arm.

       No!

       I jumped at it, digging the knife into its back and slamming it down. It stopped moving, and I let go of the knife.

       My hand hurt, the silver causing blisters on my palm, but I didn’t care. Rowan was on the ground, clutching his arm as he cried. Blood seeped through his fingers, and I froze.

       “Mom……” he whimpered.

       I couldn’t help my tears. “I‘m here, baby. I‘m here.” I tore a strip from my shirt and wrapped it around his arm, my hands shaking.

       The scent of his blood was almost too strong.

       “They‘ll smell it,” I muttered to myself, panicked. “They‘ll come.”

       “Mom, it hurts,” he sobbed. I could feel my heart clench.

       “I know, pup, I know,” I said, cradling him. My mind raced. My pup was hurt. We couldn’t stay here anymore.

       I picked him up, ignoring how tired I was, and ran deeper into the woods. Branches scratched my skin, and I stumbled over rocks. But I didn’t stop. I had to go far away.

       After a long time of running, I stopped when I could no longer smell the rogues. I put Rowan down and checked his arm. The bleeding had slowed, and his skin was slowly healing itself, but he seemed so scared.

       “I‘m sorry, baby,” I choked out, tears streaming down my face. “I should have protected you.”

       He looked at me with tired eyes. “It‘s not your fault, Mom.”

       But it was. It was my fault.

       I cleaned his wound as best as I could and held him close, rocking him gently.

       This wouldn’t do. I couldn’t let my son be in danger anymore. This wasn’t the life he deserved—running around different human towns.

       He needed a pack. Like every other pup his age.

       I looked down at him. “I‘m taking you back to the pack,” I whispered.

       His eyes fluttered closed, and I kissed his forehead, vowing with my life.

       Rowan, Mama would always protect you.