A Rogue Of One's Own Novels & Stories

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.

"I'll spend the rest of my life repaying that debt. Don't ask me to stop." Rook lounged against the wall near the door with his permanent smirk back in place. He was officially a pack member now, a status he claimed to find deeply embarrassing. "I'm a rogue," Rook had said when Kellan signed the papers. "You can't just file me into respectability." But he hadn't left. And he hadn't stopped calling Bastian "Big Bast" at every opportunity.

His gaze following every single movement Jayson made, if I didn't hate him and kind of want him dead, then I probably would have appreciated his protection a little more. "Who says I took them down without any help?" I returned the question without hesitation. "There's not a man out there is stupid enough to help a rogue. They especially wouldn't dare help a rogue who was residing so close to the border of another territory," Jayson replied with confidence. "If that's the case then I guess I took them all down on my own. Me, a week she-wolf who has been living the life of a rogue for ten years, single handedly killed eighty of your best fighters. Men who had been trained from the age of twel

As I walk around the great room, it's obvious that certain packs in particular are missing- the Rogue packs. Instead of having different alphas for every pack, they are all run by a king who calls himself "King of the Rogues." I can't help but roll my eyes, anybody who chooses to go by that name probably has a bigger ego than Caleb. Nobody knows what he looks like since few have ever lived after encountering him, his reputation violent and messy. He never shows up to these events despite receiving the invitations. Most alphas would prefer him as a business partner rather than an enemy.

To bad he would not be able to help me escape, he must be loyal to his Alpha or he would be kicked out of the pack and end up turning rogue. Which meant no leader and other packs kill rogue on sight due to their lawlessness and no loyalty. They are like rodents eating your vegetables in the garden. No one liked rogues. Funny enough that is what I was, my brother and parents. We had to leave our pack behind because of Alpha Keeram, many packs feared him. Unfortunately mine was one of them, my Alpha Jake feared him so much so, that he was going to hand me over like a present. That's why we had no other choice but to go rogue and hide.

Sweetly I slowly turned around and began to lower to a kneeling position only to swipe out my leg knocking him off balance before standing back up with my foot on the alpha’s throat slowly pressing downwards. "Lastly, I. CANNOT. BE. COMMANDED." I growled, although I still did not have my wolf, I could still sound the part. " for those who want to rely solely on their inherent ability to command rather and gain the trust, loyalty and following of their subordinates then know your audience" I said to the crowd with my foot still pressed to the alpha’s throat. Looking down at him and then back at the crowd I stated, "I am a rogue for all intents and purposes. I do not adhere to commands and thu

Arthur had felt their presence like an instinct he couldn’t explain. “I… I tried to stop them.” But it had been too late. They would never abandon their comrades to their deaths. All Arthur could do was go after them and try to kill as many rogues as he could. Didn’t know how many rogues there were, but he knew that the patrol members would be in trouble. They fought fiercely, ripping and tearing through the rogues in practiced patterns. A rogue was only at an advantage against one werewolf because rogues were fierce and irrational beasts. Against teams of three, a rogue lost the advantage of being unpredictable as the three werewolves could cooperate.

But that assumption was clearly bullshit. Rogues weren’t just dangerous, they were unpredictable, savage, and unbound by any laws of a pack. Outcasts who had been stripped of rank, banished for rebelling, who now tore through the world like beasts of vengeance. And when they weren’t being hunted, they hunted back. One rule about rogues: They never came alone. I turned to run, but the air shifted. The wind hissed through the trees unnaturally fast, and before my foot could even lift off the ground, something dropped from above.

This is like a mob visit. "You wish you could handle me. Besides, I don't like weak, frail, and disgusting old men. They don't have enough backbone for a ROGUE like me! " I growl, my grey blue eyes glowing with purple flakes. I yelled through the door. I knew challenging his manhood and telling him I was a rogue knocking on his packhouse door would draw him out. Stupid Alpha.

“Then blood will spill before the prophecy intends it to.” ……. In the deepest part of the forest, where the moonlight barely kissed the ground, a figure stood on a high ridge. Eyes glowing molten gold, burning with something fierce… and broken. The rogue alpha. His long coat fluttered in the breeze as he stared down at the distant lights of the city. The scent of Elaina still lingered on the wind—wildflower and power. “She’s awakening…” he murmured, jaw clenched, claws flexing at his sides.