A Rob Novelas e Histórias

he said as he stare out to the water “I’m not going to ask again, who are you?” I asked fiercely “I’m Darius” he looked at me with a side eye and my mouth dropped in surprise. Darius was a rogue Alpha, whose mate betrayed him like Karl did to her. He rained down hell on different packs who dared to cross him. He spread fear anywhere his name is mentioned. His nickname ‘The black death’ describes how his wolf is, black and deadly. Fear gripped me, I couldn’t fend him off by myself. A lot of people tried and they met a glorious exit.

he murmured, his voice thick with venom. "I’d start slow," Roberto continued, tilting his head. "Break him from the inside first. Take everything he holds dear. His company? Gone. His assets? Seized. His name?" He chuckled darkly. "Turn it into something people spit on." He stood up, walking toward the bar, pouring himself another drink. "And then, when he has nothing left, when he’s just a shadow of himself, I’d let him rot. Let the world chew him up, spit him out, and forget he ever existed."

I had no problem navigating my way through the dark nights. I knew the moment I crossed my pack’s border I'd become a rogue, unclaimed, unwanted, erased. A name no one spoke. A life no one protected. Out there, the law was simple: rogues are threats. Kill on sight. No questions. I, an alpha female. The daughter of an alpha reduced to nothing more than prey.

Robi shouted. He took out his wallet from his pants pocket and threw several dollar bills at their faces. "Enough, right?" Robi asked sternly. The two individuals quickly picked up the scattered money with triumphant smiles, while Robi left with an annoyed expression. "Damn humans!" cursed Robi as he continued walking away from the useless duo. "Damn! I failed to trap Devan!" Robi exclaimed while punching the wall next to him. "I have to find another way; I won't let him inherit more than me," Robi continued.

he gave Nyx an approving nod— “you made the perfect choice. Finally becoming a man, huh?” I smirked, shaking his hand. “You talk too much for someone who’s supposed to be resting.” He chuckled, then turned to Nyx. “And you, young lady, are even prettier in person.” Nyx smiled softly. “Thank you, Mr. Rob. It’s nice to finally meet you.” “Please,” he waved a hand, “just Rob. ‘Mr.’ makes me sound old.” I couldn’t help the small smile tugging at my lips. That’s Rob—the oldest of my men. Fierce. Ruthless. Loyal to the bone. Sometimes too damn stubborn for a man without legs.

Times were changing, but he needed to know that they’d changed enough before he forced Rebecca to the negative experiences that would come from the fallout of what she was. Rob took a sip and dialled his brother’s number. He listened to it ring only once, before Jon picked it up. “Are you okay? Where in all the heavens are you?” “Hey, baby brother. I’m fine. Well, I’m recovering. We can’t talk about this on the phone. Bring me the usual. I haven’t got a clue where my phone is. Nor am I interested in eating raw hamburger for breakfast. So, could you bring food for four? I’ll text you the address. It’s the new vet’s home. Please get here as fast as possible. It’s getting very complicated, and

It was a beautiful smile but it was lopsided and I could see that his eyes were clouded with alcohol. “What's the matter Rob?” I asked him. “Everything is the matter, Ari”, he replied instantly. I wondered what he was getting at. Rob had left to go meet his PR manager and he owned one of the best PR companies in the United States so I knew that whatever they had done had worked. So why was Rob like this? “I'm sorry Ariana”, he said then began to laugh.

Rob replied with a grin on his face. “Uncle, I’d like you to meet my friend, Jordan Denver, a very wealthy and amazing man like myself.” Rob said. I faced him and he had a frown on his face as he looked at me. Did I wrong him or something? The look on his face as he stared at me from my head to my feet made me shiver. I’m a man who’s not easily intimidated, but this man made me shiver.

“You slept for so long that I began to worry you would never wake up.” “How long was it?” I rasp, my voice hoarse from a combination of disuse and lack of water. “Five days,” the man responds. “Who are you?” I interrupt before he can continue. “Ah. Of course. Where are my manners? I forgot to introduce myself. I am Clay Denvo. The king of the rogues,” he says as he gestures widely with his arms. “I didn’t know that the rogues have a leader,” I respond coolly.

It might not be necessary to shift, and it will be much easier to fight if I’m not wearing a dress. As soon as I’m dressed, I step outside and immediately hear a snarl. I turn to the left and there is a brown rogue wolf stalking towards me. You can always identify the rogues because they look mangey and deranged, like a dog who’s been abused and beaten. His fur is filthy, with a few patches missing, and he smells like vulture vomit. The combination of death and decay mixed with the burning, acidic scent of vomit is the worst possible combination.