The Rogues Who Went Rogue
Chapter 29

Margaret's eyes widened in shock, but not at her own accord. It was her wolf. It was trying to push itself forward despite the silver bracelet fastened around Margaret's wrist. The red wolf was done persuading its stubborn human part to accept their mate. It just wanted to go over to Tate and bury itself in his chest before begging him to stay. It continued to push even though it was pointless since they weren't immune to silver.

As Margaret continued enduring being pushed forward by her own animal and the bracelet that pushed her wolf back, she couldn't help but get even more frustrated with the naïveté of her animal that was relentlessly trying to fight a losing battle. 'Why can't animals possess some basic human logic?' she complained to herself.

Tate watched her look away and take heavy breaths as her head turned from side to side like she was fighting an internal battle. With furrowed brows, he leaned forward and frantically asked, "Margaret, what is it? What's wrong?"

His worried voice got the red wolf even more berserk. Margaret raised a finger and tried speaking, "Just...give me a minute." And she continued battling with her animal.

"Uh...alright," Tate muttered in uncertainty. He thought when she finally decided to speak to him with less hostility, he would feel like the luckiest wolf alive, but now, he was just worried. Was she alright?

After another few more seconds, Tate and his animal couldn't stand it anymore. He got up and dashed to her side before squatting and taking both her forearms. His gaze held hers as he asked, "Margaret, what is it? Why are you shaking?" When he saw her eyes were alternating between light and dark shades, he understood what was going on.

His hands moved to her wrists and he planted a slow, deep kiss on her clenched fists, sending a stream of sparks throughout Margaret's being. She fidgeted less, but her animal was still pushing, albeit less aggressively now. Tate's thumbs then stroked her fists in slow, soothing motions as he whispered in a calm voice, "Shh...it's alright. You're safe. You're safe. No one is going to hurt you, alright? You're safe. Stay calm. You're good."

The red wolf was whimpering in tears at first but Tate's assurance made it halt its struggle and after a moment, it calmed down. After a few minutes of listening to his voice and feeling his touch, it cooed and tried persuading its human part to hug him, feel him, but Margaret's control over her animal prevailed. She didn't budge. Still, she felt...grateful that Tate cooled down the naïve monster living in her.

When the internal battle was over, Margaret heaved a relieved sigh and gently took back her hands before uttering, "Thank you. She can get really...emotional sometimes."

"That's good to know," Tate responded with a warm smile, which Margaret subconsciously returned. He meant it. It felt good to finally know...something.

Despite his urge to touch her cheek and wipe the sweat off her forehead, he held back, and slowly stood before returning to his seat, much to his animal's dismay. After a few moments of silence, this time it was because Margaret didn't know what to say as opposed to not wanting to say anything, Tate spoke, choosing his words carefully, "Your wolf wants the bond, but you...both aren't on the same page."

As she continued staring at the wall, her lips curled up into a sad smile as she murmured, "You could say that," She was dead certain that she didn't want a second-chance mate, but now that she met Tate, she wasn't sure anymore.

Tate studied her, and had to admit that Lucianne was right: Margaret was confused. "Margaret," he began. Her head inched slightly towards where he sat but her eyes fixed on the table.

Tate decided to make do with this now, at least her body language this time showed that she was listening. "I want the bond, too. I admit that I don't know you but I want to. I want to give us a shot. But I can't if you won't let me. What happened to you in the past wasn't right, and I wish I could go back there and do something about it but..." he sighed in dismay, and muttered, "...but I hope you know that I can't. I can only be here for you now, and help you get through this."

Margaret's eyes watered with each word, and she had to press her lips together to control the tears from spilling out. It had been so long since someone wanted to be there for her and help her get through her past. If anything, she was implicitly taught to never bring it up, to s**k it up and put on a strong face and a brave front.

But at the end of the day, she knew that it was all an act. And that the truth was that she was breaking inside, shattering piece by piece every single day since the betrayal. She never healed. There was never time. Survival came first. As a rogue, there was never a luxury of time to heal.

Time was spent on self-teaching through trial-and-error of which territories belonged to other rogues; which rivers were shared and which were not; and most importantly, how to run past packs in large numbers without being detected. It was a cold, dark world. What Tate is giving her now merely through his words and presence was an assurance that she hadn't felt since she was casted out, and that was a very long time ago.

When Margaret managed to compose herself and swallow her sniffle, she pinched her left thigh to cope with her discomfort as she whispered, "I need...time." She felt so ashamed of saying that, so ashamed of not knowing what she wanted. She knew what she wanted! Tate just had to be so different and ruin her well-thought-out plan!

Her words sent a warmth into Tate's heart, and he leaned across the table before he whispered with smiling eyes, "Thank you."

Margaret's self-deprecating thoughts were put to an abrupt stop. "What?" She asked without thinking. Her eyes only amplified confusion.

Tate's smile broadened at the sound of her voice, at her beauty despite her discombobulation. "Thank you for letting me know what you need. I've been trying to guess it for days. It's good to finally know what's on your mind."

He carefully reached for her hand that was on the table, and when she didn't stop him, he lifted it up to peck a sweet kiss on the back and said, "I'll be here if you need anything, okay?"

Margaret was stunned for a moment before she gave a doubtful nod, which was good enough for Tate. But he couldn't deny the heartache when he noticed how tired she looked, probably from fighting with her animal. After giving her hand an assuring squeeze, he said, "I'll let Officer Laila take over from her. Just give her the location and get a good night's sleep. I'll come get you tomorrow."

Another nod, a more certain one this time.

Tate offered a small smile and reluctantly let go of her hand before making his way out of the door, but not before turning back to take another glimpse of his mate first, and he was on cloud nine when he noticed that she, too, was looking at him before averting her eyes when he caught her doing it.

As Tate closed the door behind him after Officer Laila entered, he leaned against the wall as he grinned to himself like he was swimming in a sea of love. It wasn't that she didn't want him. She just wasn't sure. The hopelessness he felt faded away, replaced by a strong determination to win his mate's heart.