A Rogue Of One's Own Mga Nobela at Kwento

“Counter that!” Rogue groggily got to his feet, as he felt the burning sensation. He directed his oculars up and had the shock of his life, Ein was out to kill that was what he understood. But he wasn't going to go down without a fight, Extending both hands to the heavens, Rogue called upon his ability. A stake appeared and with its advent, came a gargantuan of a mouth which clashed against the palm.

he sighed, “Well, they were criminals…” I mumbled, “Rogues, darlings are not always criminals. My parents were rogue vampires for a while. A rogue is a person who is not in a pack or into society; it does not mean they committed a crime,” he sighed, and I squinted my eyebrows. “Are any of those guys the case?” I asked, and he took a deep breath. “No, two of them attacked a pack and killed several warriors, and the other one robbed a shop and killed the owner,” he said, and I took a deep breath.

A Rogue. A Rogue is a werewolf without a pack. They often kill any werewolf they encounter; may it be a member of a pack or a similar rogue, like them. They are vicious plunderers. And that same vicious plunderer is right in front of me, deviously smiling. “Others cannot dodge my attack so easily like that. You’re quite good, pup.” He praised me, but I don’t feel good that he did so at all. I’m scared. “W-who are you, Mister?” I tried to sound brave, but aside from stuttering, my voice also cracked.

She was a hard she-wolf, and she wouldn’t accept the bits and pieces. Anita did ultimately beat Russell and Jack, for that matter. She was alive to go on and do the work they trained her to do. Now on to bigger and better things. _____________________ Here ends The Rogue & The Rose. Don’t miss out on the story. Look up Klaira Blains for other titles belonging to the Black River Pack and Big City Wolves Series. I hope you enjoyed this and my other novels here only on GoodNovel. Love Klaira

Its Rowena, I don’t think a princess is ever going to be a sacrifice. Silence followed after I had said that,but I felt his tension ease. I looked at him in a way he wouldn’t know, I wanted to take all his features, his looks and the way he looked at me when I wasn’t starring. Why do they call you the rogue Alpha , I found myself asking. When I asked that question it seemed to get his attention because he looked at me. I don’t go with their rules princess and I don’t worship their stupid moon goddess who abandoned my people when your people turned against us or because I protected my people with my own power.

"Surely... there is an error? My alpha protector is a peaceful leader." The rogue sneers, pulling a thick roll of heavy tactical tape from his belt. Before Jone can weave another sentence, the rogue slaps the adhesive over Jone's mouth, cutting off his ability to manipulate the conversation. "Let us begin the chronicle," the rogue whispers crazily, hoisting a graphic pack record photo showing a mutilated wolf corpse. "Let us discuss the rogue commander whose limbs Michael Jackson personally severed and left for the crows." Jone stares at the image through narrowed eyes, his inner wolf completely unmoved by the blood. If that rogue had threatened the Silverclaw borders, Jone only regrets that

This was my next location. The Rogues noticed me instantly. Of course they did. A lone woman entering a den of desperate wolves was either suicidal… or something far worse. I let them wonder which one I was. With my presence, a towering Rogue stepped forward towards me, all muscle and suspicion. He scanned my maid’s dress; tattered now, the disguise shed like a useless skin, and he scoffed. “You’re lost,” he growled. I smiled faintly. “No. I’m inevitable.”

Lincoln’s POV What the hell did she mean that I was a rogue? That question lingered in my mind until someone came to get me. He stood tall, and the red of his hair was like the dying embers of a fire. “You,” I began. “I’m Ruby’s brother, Garnett,” he answered like he was bored as the bars slid open. “Move along. We have no time to waste.” The chains on my wrists were opened, and I was tempted to launch myself against this person, to fight him—to get out of here. But something in his stature and the vast sword strapped on his waist made me stop.

Untamed. Just like him. I can see a certain kind of wildness in his eyes, and I know instantly that he is a Rogue. He has an edge to him, a wild, dangerous, unpredictable edge. As he stares back at me I notice a moment of confusion. It's like he realized it, too, at the same moment, that maybe…I am his mate. The connection is undeniable. But he quickly shakes it off and gives me a confused look. "Are you a spy?" he asks. "Did they send you to find me?"