His Knees, His Pleas, But Our Son's in Peace

My heart sank as I read through the lies, the accusations.

Sienna, that vile woman, had started slandering me in the public media, portraying me as some sort of villain

responsible for her misfortunes. She

blamed me for her disfigurement, for her failed relationships, spinning a web of lies that the public was all too eager to believe.

My wolf growled in the back of my mind, a low, angry sound that mirrored the rage building within me. How dare she? the wolf snarled. How dare she try to tarnish your name?

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But I was too tired to be angry. All I felt

was a deep, bone-weary sadness. They

didn't know me, didn't know what I had

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His Knees, His Pleas, But Our Son's in Peace,

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been through. All they saw were Sienna's lies, and they believed every word.

Not long after, people who didn't know the truth were coming to my house, throwing bottles, shouting obscenities, as if I were the monster Sienna painted me to be.

A knock at the door startled me, and I

stood, wiping my eyes as I made my way

to the front of the house. The voices

outside were growing louder, angrier, but the sight that greeted me when I opened

the window to

Nathan stood there, a large bouquet of

flowers in his hands, his expression a mix

of frustration and desperation. The crowd

outside seemed to take this as some sort of

confirmation that he had cheated on me,

that I was the wronged party, and they started smashing things in anger.

"Doris, I-" Nathan began, but before he

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ould finish, the situation erupted. The ogue wolves and unknowns in the crowd egan to attack, their fury spilling over as hey lashed out at everything in their path. Jathan was in the thick of it, fighting them off even as they landed blow after blow. My house had been taken over before, and It looked like it was happening again. Only this time, Nathan was here, and instead of leaving apathetically like he used to, he was out there, his shoulders stiff with

tension.

The wolves wasted no time. I heard glass shattering downstairs, the unmistakable crash of something being smashed against

the walls.

the walls.

Nathan stood his ground in the front yard,

glaring at the intruders. His hands

clenched into fists, and I could see the

muscles in his neck tense as he struggled to maintain his composure. I should've felt 18:49

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something-a flicker of hope that maybe

this time, he'd finally stand up for himself,

for me, for the life we had once shared,

But all I could do was watch atch with

elenice, detached from the chaos unraveling below.

one of the rogues sneered, tossing a chair through the open window. "You're going to stand there like a coward, or are you going to do something?"

Nathan's jaw tightened. He took a step

forward, but he wasn't backing down this

time. The

The rogue closest to him-a tall,

broad-shouldered wolf with a scar

running down his cheek-lunged first. I watched as Nathan braced himself, taking

the blow to his shoulder, but it didn't faze

him. He twisted around, delivering a

punch square to the rogue's jaw. The

sickening crunch of bone meeting bone

echoed through the air.

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be

De fight had begun,

The other rogues joined in, circling Nathan like predators. One of them-a scrappy, wiry wolf with quick

reflexes-leapt at Nathan from behind, claws extended. Nathan ducked just in time, spinning around to grab the wolf by the arm and throw him against the side of the house. The impact sent a shockwave through the walls, and I felt it upstairs, the tremor vibrating beneath my feet.

For a moment, Nathan wasn't the same

passive man he used to be. He fought like

a wolf cornered, like someone who had

finally been pushed too far. His

movements were calculated, his punches

deliberate. The scarred rogue came at him

again, swinging a knife, but Nathan sidestepped, grabbing the rogue's arm and twisting it until the knife clattered to the

ground. With a swift kick to the rogue's

knee, Nathan sent him sprawling

18:49 is Knees, His Pleas, But Our Sour's in Peace

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But it wasn't enough. The rogues kept

coming.

Blood poured from Nathan's head,

running down his face in dark, crimson streaks. But he kept fighting. His breathing

was

labored now, each punch slower than

the last, but the rogues were tiring too. They hadn't expected this kind of

resistance. One by one, they began to falter, backing away as Nathan stood tall, bloodied but unbroken.

-Nathan stood amidst the wreckage, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath. His face was covered in blood, a gash above his eyebrow still leaking. His knuckles were raw and bruised, and there Knuckles

were cuts along his arms where the roguès had gotten in a few good swipes. But he had won.

Nathan wiped the blood from his face with the back of his hand, but it didn't help

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much. He still looked like he'd just walked

through hell. I watched as he bent down,

picked up something from the ground, and

started walking toward the door.

A bouquet of roses.

The bouquet of roses in his arms hadn't been harmed by the fight, was still bright

and beautiful.

But sadly, I'm allergic to them.

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ODD

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