Another Name For Outcast Novels & Stories

“Alpha Conrad Valerius of the Hollow Pack has arranged for his second daughter to marry into the Blackwood Pack, to me.” His lips parted in disbelief. “But you’re no longer a member of any pack. You’re the High Chancellor of this academy now. What do you even gain from this?” My jaw tightened. I turned to face him fully. “My reputation!” The word came out harder. “I was cast out, Flint, not like you! You walked away from your pack by choice. I was thrown out. Do you understand what that means here? No wolf in this academy would willingly submit to the authority of an outcast. That’s why I’m hiding behind the title of High Chancellor! It’s the only way anyone here takes us seriously!”

Lyla collapsed, her face ashen. "You dared deceive me!" Lukas was consumed by rage. He kicked her aside. "You made me believe I would have a pureblood heir!" "Lukas, please..." Lyla crawled toward him, trying to grab his leg. "I love you... I just wanted a child..." "Love?" Lukas shoved her away in disgust. "What would a filthy creature like you know of love?" He turned to the crowd and announced in a voice of cold fury: "From this moment on, this... thing... is no longer my mate! She is an outcast! A rogue! I'm sending her to the orc mines to live out the rest of her filthy existence!"

The engine's growl, the squeak of the suspension, and the distant traffic noise all blended together, forming a symphony of desperation in his ears. Through the cloth that covered his eyes, George recalled the symbol he had glimpsed before being blindfolded. It was etched into the skin of his captors, a mark that resonated with terror and dread. He knew exactly who they were—the group that delved into the mysterious world of lycanthropes. These were the same people he had narrowly escaped from in his hometown, leaving behind a trail of destruction and chaos.

"Your Aunt Sally and her daughter Holly—they're werewolves too." I felt like someone punched me. "What?" The word came out choked. "That can't be true." "They're Outcasts," Mathias said, and the way he said it made it sound like a bad word. "Outcasts?" I felt like I was drowning in all these new things I was learning. "Wolves without a Pack," Daxon said shortly. "Werewolves usually live in family groups called Packs. But Outcasts... they're alone. No family. Kicked out."

Rogues, I said, understanding dawning. Rogues, outcasts, exiles. Wolves who were rejected by their packs, cast out for crimes they did not commit, forced to survive in territories where death waits behind every tree. They are everywhere, thousands of them, living in the shadows between pack lands. And they are waiting for someone to give them purpose.

People view those who conceive a baby for someone who is not their mate as lower than omegas and brand them as rogue whores. In my entire life, I never thought that I would be in this category of people, but it is where I find myself today. The pack people have treated me as an outcast, denying me a series of well-paying jobs and access to certain places in the pack because of their perception of me as a rogue whore. With a loud exhale, I gazed at my babies. I can’t leave them here because I want to get some water. I have only eaten a slice of apricot since I was brought here, and nothing more.

“I never hanged out to them, though.” “Why not?” “Why would I?” I bit my tongue, before I looked at him. “Is that not the reason why you often come here?” “Certainly not.” His reply was quick. “How about you?” “I don’t party, Conrad.” I removed my hands on the railings to turn around. “I probably haven’t tell you, but I used to be an outcast.” “Outcast?” He repeated. His eyes intently looking at me. “Were you discriminated?”

Fox reminds them. There is a chorus of mumbles ‘yes sir’ from our group. “You know we should change some of Chaos’s handles. They no longer fit,” Dominic rumbles, making the earpiece vibrate with his deep base. “Oscar has made a name for himself as Chaos’s hellhound. That’s all anyone refers to him as,” Alanzo Zanetti says talking to Demon. “Fine, Oscar is now Hellhound,” Ryder concedes. “I like that better. It fits,” Ransom says.

Everyone laughed and scorned me for sleeping with the Alpha, Aztec, even going as far as throwing stones, rocks, eggs, and tomatoes, different kinds of stuff at me. I was devastated and depressed, I didn't know where else to go and Elina kept trying as much as possible to console me but it wasn't working, I became an Outcast in my pack for the moment the news came out, and everyone avoided me more like a plague, a disgusting piece of shit like me and I began to smell even more and even spit at my face as soon as they saw me, calling me a whore, a husband snatcher, I felt sad and miserable, I just wanted to die, this wasn't my plan, this isn't what I had planned in mind. Things don't work out

They were all disregarded by society, labelled as scum, ruffians, bloodthirsty individuals, rejects, and misfits. Lupine Wilds was the real term, but to everyone besides the rogues, it was called the Lupine Wastes, or Wastes. It was a small area the rogues managed to claim back from the Quintrell monarchy. As the rogues grew stronger and worked together, they had a place to stay than wandering separately. Lone wolves were dangerous, and it wasn’t healthy for such sociable creatures to be cast out of packs and remain alone. Sure, there were still those who preferred to remain solitary, the rogues who had no interest in joining the rebellion or socialising with other rogues. They maintained th