I laid there in the soft grass, staring up at the sky, watching as the clouds swirled around and the birds soared with the wind. I groaned internally at my wounded pride.

"That was a bitch move, you know!" I said to my brother Gunnar.

My brother and I are currently having a one-on-one training session, as I want to up my game, but man, he can be challenging at times.

He looked down at me with a stern appearance and a tone to match his expression. "Yes, it was, but remember Freja, your opponents won't always fight fair. They will fight dirty and use whatever tactic they can in order to take you out. So you need to be prepared for such moves, whether it's a bitch move or not!"

I growled at him and rolled my eyes, even though as much as I hate to admit it, he was right. The Rogues are dirty fighters, and they don't care whether you are male or female; they will do whatever it takes to win the battle.

My brother stood there looming over me, with a cheeky smile plastered on his stupid face. He kicked my boot with him, "Now get your ass up and let's try this again."

I snarled at him. "Fine!"

I rose to my feet, eyeing my brother as he took his position. I studied his form and remembered his previous movements, but knowing Gunnar; he will probably change up his plan of attack, so he can surprise me once again and kick my ass once again.

He looked at me with that playful look, a grin stretched across his face, as he raised his hands and motioned them for me to come at him.

I took my position and let out a battle cry. I then charged towards him at full speed, Gunnar dodged my move, and with a swipe of his leg, he took me out, causing me to fall smacked down on my back once again. Ugh!

I groaned loudly and craned my neck to look up at him. "You know, this isn't fair. Your name represents army! I don't stand a chance against you!" I whined.

He let out a chuckle, and as he was distracted, I took advantage of it for that split second. Then, rising to my feet, I barreled towards him. I put all my weight into it and knocked him to the ground.

I threw my hands in the air and screamed at the top of my lungs, "VICTORY!" But my internal victory dance was short-lived as he grabbed my leg, causing me to fall to the ground beside him.

We laid there for a short while, chuckling and discussing other tactics before mother called us for dinner, and our faces fell.

Dinner with the family used to be exciting, something we all looked forward to after a long day. It was something we cherished as a family, where we would all gather together, smiles on our faces, and we would share the events that occurred throughout our day.

But now, it only meant we had a short time left before the sun went down and the rogues would return to battle us once again, just as they had been for the past week.

My name is Freja Forrester; I am the second-born child of Alpha Val Forrester and Luna Revna Forrester of the Harvest moon pack. My parents had three children, the oldest being my brother Gunnar, who is 6'6 and built like a shit brick house. I swear he works out more than he sleeps! He and I resemble our father, Gunnar, more so than I, inheriting dad’s golden eyes, short dark brown hair, sleek jaw line and intimidating stature. I am 5'7 long dark brown hair, medium build, lean and hazelnut eyes, with flecks of sapphire blue, my eyes being the one thing that set me apart from them. My sister, Adela, is the smallest of us and resembles our mother. She is 5'5, skinny, has short golden-brown hair and piercing blue eyes.

Our family has always been close with each other. However, my relationship with dad and Gunnar has always been stronger than with mom or Adela.

My sister enjoyed the same things as our mother and had always been a quiet person, making things difficult when trying to find common ground. We were different in our own ways, which put a wall between us at times and made it difficult to get close to her. On the other hand, Gunnar and I have always had a good sibling relationship. He was more than just a big brother to me, he was my friend, and I would do anything for him.

As Gunnar and I entered the house, my internal thoughts began to consume me. All I could think of is "Would this be our last supper? Would I lose my family tonight? Would I make it home?" I pondered over these thoughts every night at dinner time since the war was declared.

My pack had been facing an impasse with the Dead Pack for some time now. We all thought that things might take a turn for the better during negotiations between my father and the Alpha. However, we were so wrong; it felt like it wasn't enough for Alpha Cain, no matter my father's proposition. Just saying his name made my blood boil with anger.

We had all been dreading war being declared between the packs because we knew we wouldn't win, we knew his resources were far more vast than ours, his warriors were ruthless and mad, his pack was also twice the size of ours, but even with all that in mind, we refused to back down and bury our heads in the dirt.

But we also expected this outcome, as it felt like Alpha Cain was just playing with us and giving us false hope, something he was known for doing. So, we have been training all day in skin and fur, we recruited anyone capable of fighting in our pack in hopes of having a better chance, but we knew that we were still royally fucked!

Even in our wolf forms, it still didn't give us much of an upper hand. My brother's wolf, next to my father's, was the biggest in the pack. Both were black wolves, vast and ferocious, but my dad's wolf had grey patches within his fur. That was the only thing that set them apart.

My wolf was one of the few things that I loved about myself. She was beautiful in my mind, large, muscular, snow-white fur with hints of grey all over and silver eyes. She was my prized possession!

Dinner had been quiet, we were all depleted, mentally and physically, and there wasn't much else to say to each other. So, as dusk approached, we gathered our gear, said our goodbyes to mom and Adela, and made our way to the edge of the forest.

We began to gear up and prepare ourselves for the fight ahead. I dreaded what was to come but didn't let my fear show. I grabbed out my trusty bow and wolfsbane-filled arrows and began to climb a tree.

My father and brother were against my request to fight, but I ensured them that I could do this and wanted to fight for my family and fellow pack members. So they reluctantly agreed when I suggested perching myself in a tree, kind of like a sniper and taking rogues out with my bow. I told them about the wolfsbane arrow tips that Erik and I had designed; it took us a long time to finally perfect them, but we did it. These arrow tips can kill most wolves; it depends on the size and rank; the bigger they are, the harder they are to take out.

As I ascended the tree, I peered down at my father, who gave me a reassuring nod and then sauntered off to take his place.

I found the perfect spot to sit and took my position. Then, looking out at my surroundings, I began to prepare myself mentally for the fight ahead.

It was well past dusk now, and there was no sign of the Dead pack. We knew it was a possible distraction to confuse us so that we would let our guards down, but we knew better.

I sat there, taking in my surroundings, when I saw a rogue slowly creeping towards one of our warriors out of the corner of my eye. I let out the signal, and that's when it began.