The Rogue Deity: Until Death Do Us Part

Strenuous breaths and suffocating kisses echoed through the bare room. She was helpless. Though he had betrayed her and cast her aside out of selfishness, their bond had finally brought them together. She had run away, and when he found her, she fought to keep her distance with all her being. But here they were, bodies aligned perfectly, her strength rendered powerless against the mate bond. Yearning only for his love.
“You are mine, Rebekah. You will never escape me again!” he growled, his hot breath caressing her face before he devoured her swollen lips with bruising fervour.
“Roman,” Rebekah moaned as his seductive tongue traced her, trapping her against the wall beneath the weight of his body. He unzipped his jeans and began to pump–
“Nope. Nuh-uh. I'm done!”
The slam of a book snapped through the empty library.
“Ah no, please, don't stop reading. I beg of you, Alinta!”
“You and I are done here, Ange,” said Alinta, her cheeks flushing. A frustrated groan reverberated in her head. “I am tired of these stories! They always start off so promising, and then they turn into a sex fest. Yet again the heroine ends up a weakling, the hero wins her heart, and I can already predict he’s going to stuff up a few more times before they eventually become one and, hopefully, live happily ever after.”
“I see those red cheeks,” Angela hissed spitefully.
“You’re such a naughty wolf!” Alinta retorted.
“No, my dear person, I just enjoy reading how some humans misrepresent our kind. It's more entertaining than arousing,” Angela tittered.
“Finally, something we can both agree on!” Alinta laughed, tossing the book onto the small pile next to her.
“I am truly amazed by how much humans have learned about us, especially with their limited resources,” she added reflectively. Angela remained silent, contemplating her person’s words.
“Take destined mates, for example: yes, they exist, but the bond isn’t the unstoppable force they at times write about. It simply heightens our attraction, the sparks and tingles, but that's as far as it goes. We love, desire, and feel pleasure just like humans do. Our bond only deepens after making love and, eventually, marking each other. It’s such a sacred union… and that’s what irks me.” Alinta became quiet, her gaze distant.
Angela finally broke her silence with a playful snicker. “Two things: poetic licence, and sex sells. Besides, not all of are that bad. We actually finished the previous book, and it was well written.”
“So you don't take anything personally? That they paint us as crude beasts ruled by primal urges?” Alinta asked, raising an eyebrow.
Angela laughed, then her tone darkened. “Honestly, it’s insulting how often the wolf counterpart is portrayed as nothing more than an animal, always ruled by primal instinct. I’ve grown with you these past eleven years and learned your ways. Wolves have evolved far beyond our lycanthrope ancestors.” Her temper flared, and she gave a sharp snort. “I mean, we can talk, for Pete's sake!”
Alinta giggled as Angela ranted about her pet peeves. “I thought you found it humorous when they got the facts wrong,” she teased with a smirk.
Angela rolled her eyes, refusing to grant her person a satisfactory victory in their banter. Then, in a more serious tone, she said, “Given how much they’ve gotten right, I sometimes wonder if the government allowed certain information to leak into these books; a way to desensitise humans to our existence. After all, it's getting harder to hide things in this digital age.”
Alinta appreciated her wolf's perspective, nodding in agreement. “If you want to distract yourself with some factual literature, why not visit Aunt Deanna? She has so many amazing stories and promised to tell us a story we haven't heard yet.” Angela suggested excitedly, wagging her two tails.
Alinta jumped at the gesture. “Yes! That’s a great idea! But first, we need to go to the café to–” She froze at the sudden sound of a voice.
“Hello? Is there anybody here to help me?” asked a tall, broad-shouldered man, impatiently waving a few books in his hand.
He wore a grey tailored suit that matched the cold sharpness of his hunter eyes. A long, stubbled Van Dyke beard framed a square jaw. His slick black midnight hair was tied back into a low ponytail. He looked no older than his mid-fourties, handsome, commanding, and unmistakably important.
Alinta swallowed nervously, her heart racing, angst flaring.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake… Seriously? Out of all the days, this jerk shows up! Who even comes to the library on a Sunday in this day and age? Especially him!” Angela growled fiercely in her mind.
When the man's eyes landed on Alinta, they softened, and he eagerly approached the visibly anxious woman. “Hello, my dear Alinta. Sorry to barge in on you like this. I hope I didn’t startle you?” he cooed tenderly.
Seizing the moment, Alinta darted toward the pile of discarded books before he could close the distance. “No problem at all, Mr. Crassus. But if you’re looking for Jenny, she isn't back here,” she replied icily.
He watched her with contentment as she gracefully picked up the books one by one, returning them to their proper places.
“I wish you wouldn’t be so formal, my dear. Please, just call me Bellinor. As for Jenny, I’ve been waiting at the front for fifteen minutes, which is why I came to check here. Could you assist me with this, please?”
“After everything he’s pulled recently, he expects you to act oblivious and buddy-buddy? Just tell him you were on your way out!” Angela spat angrily.
“I really want to, but I worry that Jenny might be left to deal with the consequences. She never leaves her desk unless it's urgent, and I’m sure Bellinor isn’t aware of that,” Alinta replied, ending the conversation with her wolf.
“Sure,” Alinta said reluctantly, placing the last of the books on the shelf and holding out her hand, which Bellinor took affectionately. She stiffened and quickly pulled her hand back. “I was asking for the books you wish to borrow, Mr. Crassus,” she snapped.
“I’m so sorry, my dear! I misunderstood,” the man laughed nervously, adjusting his gloved hands on the books.
“Misunderstood my arse. And what's with the gloves?” Angela grunted, teeth bared, ready to intervene.
“Agreed. Let's just get this crap over and done with. If anything weird happens, you do you,” Alinta muttered to her wolf.
“Yeah, saving our arses as usual,” Angela huffed, ready to shift at any moment.
Alinta snatched the books from Bellinor and made her way to the reception desk. She quickly scanned them under his name but tensed when one of the titles caught her off guard.

“Loved Until Death” was no mere love drama, but a chilling documentary recounting the true story of Lilith Covet – a woman consumed by obsession for her high school crush. As the years passed, her desire twisted into fixation. Though he rejected her countless times, she refused to relent.
Eventually, she snapped.
Lilith devised a plan to kidnap and torture him until his will broke, and he succumbed to Stockholm syndrome. For three years, she kept him hidden. When suspicion finally fell upon her, police raided her home. In the cellar, they found Lilith seated upon her captive’s lap, his arms wrapped protectively around her waist.
She threatened to end both their lives if the officers drew closer.
In the chaos that followed, she was shot before she could fulfil her promise. The man was saved. Unfortunately, the damage had already been done. Lilith had psychologically ruined him beyond repair. Two months later, he took his own life, leaving behind a note claiming he simply wished to be with his love once more.
“Something tells me you’ve read that book,” Bellinor murmured, catching the flicker of unease in Alinta’s gaze.
She snapped back to the present, her voice faltering. “Y-yes… I have.”
“A fascinating documentary, don’t you think, my darling?” His grin widened the moment her eyes met his.
“I think it’s tragic,” Alinta replied coldly, masking her discomfort as her fingers twitched at her sides. “No creature should be forced to love someone, no matter how strong the desire.”
“But the question remains,” Bellinor whispered, his grey eyes glinting. “In the end… did he learn to love her? Did she truly capture his heart? Was it love on his side – or madness – that made him stay? That a mere human woman could bind a man so tightly he could not live without her?” His enthusiasm in his voice sent a shiver down her spine. “The mind and heart… extraordinary things, aren’t they?”
“The fuck?” Angela snarled, claws ripping free as the fur along her spine bristled. She was coiled tight, feral and ready to attack.
“Here you go, Mr. Crassus. Enjoy your Sunday,” Alinta said sharply, turning away before he could speak again.
“I think we better head home via the back door, and ASAP,” Angela urged, her tone edged with caution.
“Way ahead of you,” Alinta breathed, her chest tightening as she bolted for the exit. Only once she’d put distance between them did she slow, though her steps remained brisk.
“What the fuck was that back there?”
“I couldn’t agree more, Ange. That was just… too creepy.” She shuddered at the memory of his grin. “It’s the first time in ages he’s spoken to me so casually. And where the hell was Jenny? She never leaves the desk without leaving a note!”
“Don’t overthink it,” Angela advised. “Let’s get home. We can text Helen an apology later, she’ll understand.”
Alinta mentally agreed and kept moving.
Alinta was a twenty-nine-year-old werewolf with striking auburn hair and almond-shaped, emerald eyes. Her build was medium; not particularly athletic, but curved in all the right places. Like humans, shifters came in all shapes and sizes, some beautiful and others less so. As the saying went, beauty lay in the eye of the beholder.
Werewolves carried a second soul, a wolf spirit, fierce and eternal. These wolves resided in a spirit realm resembling a vast forest, shaped according to their character. Werewolves could exchange bodies or minds with their wolves and exist fully within this spirit forest.
The government was aware of their existence, as well as that of other mythical beings. An agreement had been forged to keep this knowledge a secret, on condition that these races helped maintain order among all living creatures. This pact was born from a violent past: when humans first discovered shifters, chaos erupted, war followed, and blood was spilled. A chapter best left forgotten.
Some werewolves lived primarily in their wolf form, roaming the forests, while their human selves rested within the spirit realm. Others favoured their human bodies, shifting only when needed. All were free to travel, provided they obeyed human laws and avoided shifting in populated areas. Each magical race had its own territory, places absent from all human maps.
Alinta lived in a small werewolf town called Umber Valley, a close-knit community much like any human settlement. Yet, she remained largely isolated. She had spent her entire life there, growing up in a cottage on the rural edge of the forest with her mother.
She preferred to be a lone wolf, venturing into town only for work or to visit her small circle of friends. As the town’s librarian, she had found the perfect balance: quiet seclusion paired with access to the books she adored.
Living alone meant she was responsible for herself and her mother’s memory. After her mother passed from organ failure nine years earlier, Alinta inherited a modest fortune, which she used solely to maintain the cottage and tend her mother’s grave.
“Ange,” Alinta panted, her breath short, “do you mind if we shift and you take over? I’m not feeling very strong.”
“You sound terrible, Als,” Angela replied, concern seeping through. “Sure, go rest.”
“Thanks,” Alinta said, teleporting instantly into her wolf’s spirit realm.
She made her way to the silver river, her favourite place, and sank into the cool, lush grass, listening to the water flow.
“How are you feeling?” Angela’s voice echoed gently.
“The moment I arrived, my headache vanished. Are you feeling anything?”
“Yeah… as soon as I took over, your headache hit me.” Angela frowned. “It’s weird. It should’ve disappeared when we shifted, and it’s not getting better. I can handle it, though. My pain threshold’s higher than yours.”
She quickened her pace, powerful limbs stretching with each stride, her coat fluttering in the wind.
“I hope we’re not getting sick!” Alinta groaned dramatically, covering her eyes. After a beat, she added, “Oi, are you okay? Want to switch back?”
“I need... to focus. Half a kilometre left,” Angela breathed.
Alinta closed her eyes and reached for her wolf, sensing the strain in her body. She tried to channel her energy, but Angela’s vision blurred. Fear crept in – something was wrong.
“Almost there...” Angela panted.
A familiar wooden structure loomed ahead.
The porch.
Just as recognition struck, darkness swallowed them both.
Normally, Alinta would have been able to switch back, her wolf body reverted to human form, a built-in safety mechanism of having two souls.
But this time, the safeguard failed.

As life stirred within her once more, a panicked voice cried out in relief.
“Thank the Moon! You’re awake!”
Alinta opened her eyes and nearly jumped at the familiar face filling her vision. “Helen? What happened?” she groaned.
“You scared the life out of me, that’s what happened!” Helen exclaimed. “When you didn’t show up at the café, Lilly tried to contact Ange to see if you were on your way. When she couldn’t reach her, I rushed straight to your place; only to find a huge red wolf passed out on your doorstep!” She pressed her palm to Alinta’s forehead, worry etched deep into her face. “How are you feeling? Can you get up? I'm taking you to the doc!”
Alinta took a moment to assess her surroundings, dread twisting in her chest as the memory returned. She immediately reached out to her wolf. “Ange, you okay?” she quickly asked silently, before glancing back at Helen.
“Yeah, I feel fine now, but damn, that was rough!” Angela grunted, sounding more feral than usual.
“We're okay now, thank you, Helen. I don’t know what happened, but on the way home, we both started feeling off, regardless of form. As Ange reached the porch, it was lights out.” Alinta hesitated. “You said we were still in wolf form when you found us?”
“Yeah. But after I got you inside, you slowly shifted back.” Helen frowned. “Wait – hold on… Both of you felt sick? Like… both bodies?”
“Yeah… but I feel fine now. Like I had a really good sleep.”
“That’s not normal! Come on,” Helen insisted, “let me take you to the doctor, please.” Her puppy-dog eyes were wide and pleading.
Alinta, however, had grown somewhat immune to her persuasive powers. “We’re fine, Helen. Really,” she said gently. “If something happens again, I'll go. I promise. Even Ange agrees with me, and that’s rare.” She chuckled as her wolf rolled her eyes.
“You better!” Helen huffed, then pulled Alinta into a tight embrace.
“I will,” Alinta reassured her, relaxing into her friend’s warmth.
“Good!” Helen replied, then glanced her watch and began tapping furiously on her phone.
“What are you doing?” Alinta asked, intrigued.
“I, little madam, am making detailed notes on how long you were unconscious,” Helen declared, absorbed in her task. “I’ll send everything to you, for the doctor!”
“You worry too much,” Alinta laughed.
“Negative! You’re like a little sister to me, so of course I can never worry enough!” Helen pinched her cheek playfully. “Now, is there anything I can get you?”
Alinta shook her head and began to sit up, only to realise Helen had dressed her and braided her hair.
“You’re just the best!” she said warmly. “How about I make you a coffee as a thanks for everything you’ve done today?” She fluttered her long lashes dramatically.
“Oh no you don’t!” Helen barked. “You sit your bootylicious arse right there. I’ll make the coffee!”
Alinta laughed, raising her hands in surrender, knowing she had lost the war, even before it began.
Helen returned with steaming mugs and a box of café biscuits she’d bought earlier while waiting for Alinta. The two chatted until dusk. Alinta, concerned for her friend's safety, meticulously coaxed her to go home, which Helen only did once she was certain Alinta was okay.
The next morning, Alinta woke early, feeling refreshed. She messaged Jenny, her employer and friend, to ask if she could work half a day. Jenny was elated, especially since Alinta rarely took time off. While Jenny knew how much Alinta loved working at the library, she often wished her friend would take more time for herself, time to enjoy the things people in their twenties should.
Mondays at this time of the year were usually quiet, with only a handful of visitors, mostly schoolchildren hunting for books for their end-of-year projects.
As lunchtime approached, Alinta made her way to Aunt Deanna's home.
Deanna was a beloved figure in the Umber Valley, affectionately called “Aunt” or “Aunty Deanna” by all. She was the town’s historian of werewolf lore, a true local treasure and living archive of their past. She was also the second-most important person in Alinta's life.
Deanna's home lay just five minutes from the library. As Alinta drew near, she quickly smoothed her dress and knocked.
“We haven’t visited Aunt Deanna in a long time,” Angela murmured, her tails wagging.
“Yeah, but you know why,” Alinta replied softly. “Until we figure things out, we need to remain cautious.”
“Right as usual,” Angela sighed, sensing her person’s shifting emotions. “But don’t worry, I won’t let that–” She fell silent as graceful footsteps approached.
The door opened.
“Hi, Aunt Deanna!” Alinta greeted brightly.
“Oh, Alinta! What a pleasant surprise,” Deanna exclaimed, drawing her into a warm embrace. “Come in, dear child. Make yourself at home.”
She guided Alinta inside and gestured for her to sit. Deanna was tall and elegant, with aquamarine eyes that seemed to peer into the very essence of one’s soul. Warmth radiated from her, the kind that made affection inevitable.
“Now tell me, what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?” Deanna asked, her voice brimming with excitement.
“I was reading some human literature yesterday and well...” Alinta hesitated.
Deanna chuckled, shaking her head. Her long silver hair shimmered as each strand caught the sunlight. “I see. Though I don’t blame you, those stories are quite trendy.”
“But yours are the best, Aunt Deanna,” Alinta insisted.
“Hear, hear!” Angela cheered, bouncing up and down.
“And they are not based on fiction!” Deanna proclaimed proudly. “Though…” She tapped her chin thoughtfully. “I don’t believe I have any new ones to tell, my child.”
“But on our last visit, you said you had a new myth you wanted to share with us,” Alinta pouted.
She closed her eyes, delving deeply into her ancient mental archives. “Oh!” Deanna pinched the bridge of her nose theatrically. “Of course, how could I forget?”
She leaned forward, eyes gleaming.
“Have you ever heard the legend of the Rogue Deity?”