I poked at my porridge the next morning, still groggy and miserable. Despite having slept for over 16 hours, I was still exhausted, and didn't even have the energy to do my usual morning workout. Frankie was the same. His plate of food had hardly been touched, and there were dark bags under his eyes.

Chantelle, on the other hand, seemed completely ecstatic at the idea of good food.

"Your chefs are incredible," she gushed. "I've been eating scrambled eggs and Wonder bread toast for the past few days since I haven't had the time to do actual grocery shopping."

"Order as much as you want, Elle," I said, rubbing one of my temples. She gave me a sympathetic look, looking in between the two of us.

We sat side by side at the kitchen table, with him leaning against me, and my arm wrapped around his shoulders. Even though the Advil and Tylenol tablets hadn't done anything for my pain, at least I was able to get some relief from his contact.

"So, Frankie," she said gently. "I've heard so much about you. Bennett told me you guys only met a few weeks ago?"

"Yes, we did," he nodded.

"That's good. Did Bennett sing you the initiation song?"

He blinked. "The what?"

"When he was 5, he wrote a fantastic song for the pack, and performed it to the family in his underwear one night. The performance was spectacular - it took place after his bath time, and it had lighting, confetti, and everything."

Frankie chuckled. "I would've paid to have seen something like that."

"Oh, you don't have to, I can show it to you for free," Chantelle offered. "I've got it somewhere on file. Next time I visit, I'll bring the tape with me and we can watch it in the home theatre."

"That would be great, thank you, Flo-I mean, Chantelle." Frankie gave her a warm smile.

"So, have you been adjusting well to the pack?"

"I've been getting more and more comfortable everyday. Bennett has done wonderfully, trying to make me feel welcome and a part of the pack. Although I must admit, I do sometimes feel like an outsider."

"Tell me about it," Chantelle agreed. "I'm the only human, apart from my mom, in the entire Lacroix family. I missed out on a lot of cool, and not so cool, werewolf milestones. I should tell you about the time I tried to..."

My head swivelled between the two of them, confused. Since when did Frankie speak about his feelings to strangers? Since when did he speak to strangers at all?

He usually had a difficult time interacting with others, yet with Chantelle, the conversation flowed smoothly, as if they were old friends. For once, I was the quiet one as the two spoke about pack things, Chantelle's work and her ex, and my humiliating experiences.

"Can I be excused for a moment? Alone?" Frankie glanced over at me questioningly.

"Where are you going?"

"I'm going to step out for just a moment. I'll be back soon, I promise," he added after seeing my reluctant facial expression.

"I...alright. Stay close to the house, okay?"

"Thanks, Ben." He gave me a quick hug, surprising me, before heading off. I mindlinked one of the chefs to head out after him, but keep their distance so Frankie could have his privacy.

"Welcome, Chantelle," my dad said, stepping into our kitchen.

"Hi, Uncle William," she said, standing up and giving him a big hug. "It's nice to see you. Thanks for letting me stay on such a short notice."

"As I told you, you're a Lacroix. You're always welcome on our territory, no matter what."

"I haven't seen Nic all day," she frowned. "Is he still here?"

"He headed out. Said it was for some emergency meeting related to the rogue attacks. Which is what I wanted to talk to you about, Bennett. And I suppose Chantelle can listen in, too."

"Is something wrong?" I tensed up. "Are we being attacked soon?"

"No, no," dad said. "In fact, it's quite the opposite. The rogue attacks have in fact, mostly come to a stop for the past 24 hours."

Now I was puzzled. "What?"

"There used to be rogue activity at nearly every second of the day. They weren't necessarily attacking or stealing, but there were always reported sightings of them. But ever since yesterday's conference, there hasn't been anything at all."

"Maybe they've stopped?" I asked hopefully.

"Unlikely. Nic suspects that there might be a traitor within the ranks, someone who informed the rogues that we were onto them. So for the moment, they're keeping a low cover. But we'll be expecting them to strike again soon. When, and how, we have no idea."

Chantelle and I both shuddered, and I felt even more sick to my stomach.

Breathe, Ben, I reminded myself, but the pain was escalating around my body.

"That's why Nic will be gone for the next little while. I know he really wants to put a stop to the rogue attacks once and for all. And you know your brother, once he puts his mind to something, nothing in the world can stop him."

"He'd make a great Alpha, that's for sure."

"Agreed," my dad nodded. "In the meanwhile, our biggest concern is their technology. Both sides are most likely stepping up their game during this period."

"Like in World War 1," I piped up weakly.

"Yes, like the arms race from World War 1. Our pack has upped our military technology output. We've got new weapons and armour being produced right now. And the Duponts from the Dune pack in Ottawa have been creating some technology to rival their own. They're some of the best engineers in all of wolfkind."

"What kind of technology are we talking about?" Chantelle raised her eyebrows.

"Bulletproof armour. Miniature hand grenades. Ordinary objects disguised as weapons. Hacking technology that can take out even the most advanced protections. Chemical warfare."

"Wow. That's some Batman-level shit, you know? I've reported on some of the biggest and richest human tech moguls, yet I've never seen anything like this. If they're attacking with these weapons, your pack might be massively screwed."

Her words hit me like a truck.

Rogues. Attack. Money. Advanced technology.

I had a flashback to an earlier argument I had with Frankie.

"There are packs out there with more money and resources than you could ever imagine," he had told me.

These words meant that Frankie had to have known something about these packs. After all, he had been a lone wolf for a while, and I had found him with injuries. I remembered how nervous he had been, how scared he became whenever the topic of rogues was brought up.

Which only meant one thing: Frankie must have encountered these rogues at some point. He had some answers.

"Chantelle, do you know anything about technology and weapons trafficking?" dad asked her.

She grimaced. "Unfortunately, not too much, my work isn't tech-centric. But I do know that yes, technology is sometimes smuggled from outside the country into our own. Sometimes, the smuggling even takes place right under your nose. It's a very covert operation, so you should really be expecting anything."

"We've got operatives investigating every possibility," dad said. "Although, it's rather difficult to do when the rogues aren't even doing anything."

"We'll beat them," I tried to say confidently. "We have to."

"And I believe we can, too, but we'll need all the information we can get our hands on."