Fantasy Female Rogue Novels & Stories

Maddox snarls, his voice rough and bitter. The words hit like a strike across my spine. "No." That can’t be right. But there's something familiar about this, something in the way the rogue touches her, the way he looks at her. I’ve heard of it before, old stories, whispers passed between packs. Rogues being led by a powerful female. It’s rare, so rare no one believes it anymore. And if it's true... she isn’t who we thought she was. That kind of Alpha isn’t born in a pack. She’s rogue-born.

Raksha grunted as I pocketed my knife and the few bills I had. Scanning my campsite, I smirked. “I'm just a chick out enjoying the outdoors,” I murmured. “That is stupid,” Morgana huffed, and pinching my mouth, I looked at the tree and then started to climb. Situated against the tree trunk and straddling a branch, I watched the ground beneath me. I could clearly see two dark forms coming closer. “You can take them both,” my wolf growled as my full stomach protested. Shaking my head, I told her that I would simply observe.

As expected, the old king told us to chase after the rogues and to make sure they wouldn’t return, and I spent a year away from my home and my pack, but we found no sign of them. I walked through the crowd of warriors standing near our border and as I looked ahead, I felt my heart skip a beat. In the front row there was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. She was wearing a crown and something about her felt familiar. It took a moment, but I recognized her and my mind filled with a multitude of questions. After I threw her out, I didn’t waste another moment thinking about her! Alison! What was Alison doing leading the rogue army?!

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.

I can't believe I said that. This stupid rogue. I kneel while holding her limp body. Even while unconscious, she still wraps her hands tightly around El. Her scent... it isn’t like other rogues. There’s something cleaner beneath the blood. Wilder, older. Klaus hums in the back of my mind, low and intrigued. “She acted like one of us.” “She’s not one of us. She’s a rogue.” “Still saved the child and stood up to you.”

He frowned, her voice sounded so young. “Hush and spell him, let him lead us to the princess,” the other one said, walking out into the light now and surprisingly was a young redhaired woman. “Like what you see boy?” she smirked before her green eyes turned blue and she started muttering a spell. Rasmus knew he needs to go now and fast so flinging the bag of golds on the first rogue in front of him, he knocked him aside and his claws elongated and he impaled it on the next one. “Quickly, he is getting away,” the witch said and they increased their chant.

She was looking at the castle not as a sanctuary, but as a puzzle she was about to solve. I felt a chill that had nothing to do with the Witch’s frost. Darius thought he had claimed a mate. He thought he had found the piece of his soul that was missing. But as I watched Aria grip the burning silver and lean into the void, I realized we were all wrong about her. She wasn't a girl waiting for a King. She was a rogue. And rogues didn't stay in towers. They escaped. Or they burned everything down trying. I didn't call out to the guards. I didn't shout a warning. I just stayed in the shadows, watching the girl on the ledge.

“You don’t blend in very well, you know. Giant shadow thing, blade hands. Not subtle.” The rogue turned. A girl stood on the rock—hooded, blades strapped to her back, one arm marked with celestial runes. Her smirk was all teeth. “Who are you?” the rogue asked, voice flat. “I could ask you the same,” she said, leaping down lightly. “But I already know. The assassin from the council. The one that disappears in records right when Valarieth fell. You’re a myth.” “Then walk away, little mortal,” the rogue replied, turning. “You’ve seen nothing.”

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.

The girl croaks out, then raises her head to look in my direction. Mate. I have no idea how my wolf said this word in my head, but he did, shocking the living daylight out of me because I didn't expect it. "We don't know if she might wreak havoc in our pack. Because we were informed that she ran away before she got exiled." Elder Matteo holds his hand out as he explains for emphasis from his seat, staring at the girl with distrust. "She has to be punished for trespassing because she is nothing but a rogue now."