Dzin Rogue Lineage Mga Nobela at Kwento

The playful smirk dimmed as he emotionlessly glared at the Alpha whose heart had started being embraced by dread. "I am Ezekiel Blade, The Rogue King." _______________________________________ You can pronounce his name as. Eee-zee-ki-Uhl. So our psycho Rogue's name is out. Do share your thoughts. It took me a lot of time to choose it as Ezekiel's personality is damn strong, intimidating, and psychotic. So I didn't know what to choose. In the end, I finally grab this name. Hopefully, it's fine. Next will be updated soon. Keep on liking and commenting. Till the next adios.

Damon has grown up with her, though he cares for her because she was his pack member but that didn't mean she would cross her limits. He didn't know when she changed so much. It was all fine until she started looking at him in a weird way. Everything changed when their pack was taken from them. He became stronger, gathered all his men and kept the pack together. Being a rogue wasn't easy and as he was late Alpha's only son. It was his duty to protect his people. As a rogue he has to battle against many other rogues and small packs. He became ruthless, cold, merciless. He became the lone King of the rogues.

CRIMSON “Do you know the story of the bloody werewolf rogue that was killed by his alpha? Do you know about that rogue that was hated by all of his pack and all the other packs that no one wanted him at all? Are you familiar with the story, child?” an old woman asked me while giving me a serene smile on her lips.

When I turned around and looked at Luke, I knew there was only one thing I could do. I took a deep breath, this next part was not going to be easy. “I’ll do you one better.” I said, trying to sound confident. “I, Alpha Hudson Evergreen, hereby resign from being Alpha of the Red Ridge pack and declare myself a Rogue.” I fell to my knees, gritting my teeth and panting heavily to fight the pain that surged through me. Occupied with the pain, I almost didn’t register the shocked gasps and voices coming from the crowd.

"You're Fenris's son. Fine. But bloodline doesn't make a leader." "I agree." That surprised him. I could see it in the slight widening of his eyes. "You do?" "I spent twenty-one years as a rogue. I don't know your laws, your customs, your history. I'm learning, but I'm not going to pretend I have all the answers." I looked around the room, meeting each of their eyes in turn. "What I want to know is what you think Silverpine needs." Silence. They'd expected defensiveness, maybe. Not genuine curiosity.

“I still have to survive the council first. I don’t know much about your world, but it’s obvious that rogues are not liked. I didn’t realize before that I wasn’t only protecting my freedom, I was also breaking your laws.” I might as well begin using the lies needed to build my innocent image. His eyes stayed sharp, and I was not sure he believed me. “Rogues are usually trouble. Without the stability of a pack, they lose control of their beasts. We were not created to live alone. It affects the animal’s instincts and mind. But you are very different. You are one of the most stable rogue shifters I’ve ever seen who has lived without a pack since a young age. I think you’ll be fine.”

A howl sounds some distance in the front, just at the same time a group of rogues leap out of the bushes. I spring into motion immediately, all my training kicking in. I knock the first one down just before he shifts into his wolf, wrapping the wire around his neck and pulling hard. Suddenly, the clearing is a battlefield. Weapons clash against weapon, rogues fall down. I roll to the side, avoiding the snapping of fangs as a wolf lands where I stood a second ago. From the corner of my eye, I see Ragnar watching it all from the sidelines, like a messenger of death himself.

He anticipated the rogue's strikes, countering with a combination of acrobatics and brute strength. At a crucial juncture, a particularly formidable rogue with a scarred face emerged as the group's apparent leader. Limuel faced off against the scarred rogue, a formidable adversary leading a group of rogues with malicious intent. The moon cast an ethereal glow upon the battleground, where the clash between the two forces unfolded. In an effort to breach Limuel's defenses, the scarred rogue used a combination of rage and desperation.

I felt his presence, his sweet scent filling my nose, and he was…. “Say your last prayer, rogue.” He growled behind the rogue, and suddenly, I was held tightly by the rogue, but the next minute I was free to watch Dante battle with it. *** The fight lasted for a long time, the rogues were skilled and were unlike the ones I had seen before. They have powers and more strength which I could tell isn’t from natural sources, they are from the witches' side after all. “Fuck, that was refreshing,” Alessia yelled as the last rogue drop-dead.

“Then we use the terrain. The trees, the mist—it’s our advantage.” They had planned for this. Traps had been set—tripwires woven with wolfsbane, false trails scented to confuse. Still, nothing could fully prepare them for the bloodshed to come. Aria drew in a slow breath and closed her eyes, reaching for the strength that had carried her through each storm. When she opened them, the rogues were already emerging from the tree line. A ripple of tension swept through the clearing. The rogues came in pairs, flanking a tall, muscular male whose presence demanded attention. He was dark-haired, with a jagged scar running from his left brow down his cheek. Alpha Rezar.