As promised, the next day Frankie moved out of the hospital and into the pack house, where he stayed in the supervised room. He still limped around a bit, but I could tell his injury had healed considerably overnight. I was grateful the doctors managed to get all of the wolfsbane out of his system so that he could finally recover.

I couldn't stop thinking about Frankie's sudden arrival. What was he doing here? Where was he originally from? What were his intentions? Was his name even Frankie?

I had so many questions, yet not enough answers.

Eventually, I gave into my temptations and decided to visit him after my morning workout. The weather today was miserable and gloomy, kind of like how I felt on the inside after yesterday's events.

Why do I feel this way towards a rogue?

There was a tiny part of me that pondered if the two of us had a connection, but I later discarded the theory. I didn't really feel anything too special when I looked at him; I just felt the desire to protect and look after him - which was one of the traits possessed by every Alpha wolf.

And even if I was feeling something towards him, I figured it was simply a misattribution of arousal, a phenomenon I had learned about in my psychology class.

I headed into the pack house, anxious to investigate our guest further.

"Beaming Benny, it's really you!"

A loud and slightly raspy voice came booming out to me from behind. Turning, I saw a large and recently-transformed wolf running happily towards me.

"Hey, Mark," I eagerly told the large wolf just before it plowed into me, knocking me into the ground.

"Oof!" I groaned at the impact. Mark began licking my face eagerly as his tail wagged excitedly.

'Ben! It's so good to see you!'

"I'm glad to see you too, Mark," I told him out loud, wiping some of the slobber off my face with my sleeve. "How's school going?"

'Oh, it's going well!' Mark was only 14, but he had an unusually large wolf for his age, being just a little bit bigger than my current wolf form.

He also had the inability to control his shifting, especially when he was excited. I had the same issue when I was younger, and I admit, I still did.

"I'm going to stand up," I told the wolf, and he obediently hopped off me and took a seat on his hind legs. I gave Mark a good scratch behind the ears, and he howled in delight.

'So, what are you doing at the pack house, Ben?'

"Oh, I'm here to see the rogue that moved in recently."

'You mean the new guy? Yeah, I heard! I saw him come in. You were the one that found him, right?'

"Yeah. I did. You didn't happen to hear him say anything, did you?"

'Hm? Oh, no. Didn't say a word at all.' He rolled into his back, and I absent-mindedly gave him a belly rub as my thoughts rambled.

"You know, he's kind of weird, that one," I mused.

'Um...sure?' The brown wolf only looked at me quizzically.

"It's just so odd that he shows up, from the middle of nowhere. He says he's not a rogue, but I don't believe him for a second. I want to find out why he's keeping things from me."

'Are you sure that's a good idea?' Mark asked me nervously. 'Maybe he's keeping these secrets for a good reason, you know?'

"When it comes to the safety of the pack, no reason is good enough," I said boldly.

-

Frankie was sitting on his bed when I came in, a blank expression on his face. He barely even reacted when I entered the room, and instead, remained as still as a statue

"Hey," I said cheerily. "How's recovery going? Everything here is good for you?"

"Yes." He didn't even turn his head to look in my direction.

"How's the leg?"

"Fine."

"Do you need anything to eat or something?"

Frankie shook his head.

"Drinks, medication?"

He glared at me for a few moments. "Do you ever stop asking questions?"

"Yes, when the person I ask actually gives me an adequate response," I scowled, crossing my arms.

"I gave you my answers. Now leave me alone."

Heck yeah, I wanted to leave him alone. I wanted nothing more than to just walk away from him, and pretend like he was just another nameless rogue.

I just couldn't.

"Those answers weren't very good."

"Yeah, but they're all you're going to get."

My patience was running thin after only a couple of minutes of speaking to him, which was honestly a first for me. Usually, I was able to remain pretty calm in these types of situations.

"You know what, Frankie? If that's even your name, that is. You really should be showing us gratitude for what we did for your sorry ass. We could've killed you on the spot for trespassing in our territory, yet instead, we took you into our pack house and wasted our hospital resources on you."

I took several deep breaths, having surprised myself with that outburst. Almost immediately I regretted my words, but what I had just said couldn't be unsaid. So like every teenager whose ego was wounded, I decided I wanted to fuel the fire I had started even further.

"Okay. Then why didn't you?" For the first time in this conversation, he looked over and finally acknowledged my presence.

"Because," I said, but it was difficult to give him a valid because.

"You were the one who carried me to the hospital," he reminded me. "So answer me, why didn't you just kill me then?"

"It...it would've been a waste of my energy killing you then. But evidently, putting up with you right now is just as strenuous. Maybe I should've just taken you out right there and then, huh."

That was a fat lie. And the logic didn't even make any sense - carrying him to the hospital took more energy than ripping his head off. However, I knew I had struck a nerve, and accomplished my goal when his gaze grew even darker. In fact, maybe I had done too good of a job of riling him up.

There were tingles shooting down my spine when he stood up and walked over to where I was standing, stopping just a foot in front of me. We were close enough that I could snap his neck, or he could punch me in the face. I carefully studied his healing face - his skin was smooth, his nose was nicely aligned, his hair dark and soft. I dreaded what would happen next.

Who would take the first move?

Frankie was at most an inch shorter than me, but otherwise, we both had a muscular build, and probably a near-equal chance of winning if we were to engage in a fight. The problem was - I didn't want to fight him or risk him getting hurt even further. Something inside me was holding me back.

"Maybe you should've just killed me then," was the only thing he said.

"Yeah, I'm kind of regretting it now," my mouth began talking of its own accord. "Doubt anyone would miss someone as cold as you. You're basically a snowman."

Frankie only glared at me. I glared back at him with bated breath, taking note of how icy his eyes were, despite being a warm, chocolate brown colour. My eyes traced his lips, which had been pulled into a scowl.

"I'll be out of your hair in a couple of days," he told me quietly. "You'll never see me again after that, I can promise you."

"Good," I lied, my throat tightening as I looked at him. My earlier words almost physically pained my soul to say. "Well, enjoy your stay, Mr. Leech A Lot."

"I will." His gaze was still level with mine, and I could feel my stomach lurch in anticipation. There was an indescribable, powerful force that seemed to tug me towards him, and I had no idea what it meant.

Whatever it was, I wasn't going to take it any longer. I turned on my heel and stormed out of the room, unable to face him.