Fierce Twisted Rogue の小説・ストーリー

I gave her one stare and hoped it was enough to send her packing but I knew a stare would never deter Elissa from her mission. I turned, my wolf galloping away in anger. He was panting as we ran. My own beta accused me of being feral and maybe I was. I did not mind. If I had to be a rogue to kill them, so be it. They would all pay for what they did to my mother. They would all scream and beg like my sisters and I had. Rogues tore every part of me from inside out and left my mind crumbled. The only thing that brought me back was the need to avenge my family. None of the rogues would be spared. There would be no mercy at all.

The sound of his shift was thunder in the small space. I pressed myself against the back wall of the cave, and my legs gave out. The stone bit into my back. The heat still pulsed through me, a sick rhythm that made everything blur at the edges, and I watched the fight like it was happening underwater. Bastian's wolf was a monster. Black fur, one ear torn, shoulders thick as boulders. He caught the first rogue by the throat and threw it against the cave wall hard enough that I heard bones crack. But the second rogue was already on his flank, and the third circled toward the fire, toward me.

Rogue. A growl rumbled deep in his chest, building to a thunderous snarl. Malachi. The name ignited fury, visions flashing of the Rogue King touching her, claiming what was his. Torin's cock twitched involuntarily beneath his furred belly, the bond twisting pain into a sick hunger. He imagined her under that bastard—legs spread, gasping as rough hands pinned her wrists, a thick shaft driving into her slick heat. The thought fueled his speed, jealousy coiling like a serpent in his gut.

Coward! The rogue moves in his attacking position and lunges at me. I block him mid-attack and swipe at his belly, his blood sprays all over me but I don't stop. Turning towards the rogue, I control the urge to kill him. We need answers and this rogue will be a good prisoner but first I will punish him for looking at Sierra. I claw at his face and spring back when his claws reach near my neck. Twisting mid-run, I turn to get hold of his hind limb and twist it hard, the rogue howls but I ignore it. Doing the same, to his other limb, the rogue finally loses consciousness and I stop attacking. I watch with satisfaction as the snow around him darkens with the blood.

Troy struck hard and fast, his fangs coming away with a sizable chunk of meat from the writhing rogue’s throat. Before Troy could leave the side of the dead rogue, three warlocks clad in black gowns appeared. Neither could mask the shock in their eyes when their gazes fell on the dead rogues. Fury and disappointment filled the eyes of one particular warlock when her gaze landed on the dead rogue lying beside Troy. Her red hair and blue eyes gave away her identity, thanks to Amber’s detailed description. The sound that left the warlock’s throat caught the attention of the golden wolf. It turned to look at whoever had made that sound and froze.

Terry, who had just tackled another rogue, couldn't help but exclaim in disbelief. "Foolish." The Rogue leader shook his head in disdain, clearly anticipating my defeat. "Roar!" At that moment, I let out a powerful roar and transformed into a towering white wolf. With all my strength concentrated in my legs, I launched myself like a bolt of lightning toward him. The Rogue leader clearly hadn't expected such an aggressive move. His expression shifted to one of shock as his eyes widened. As the Rogue leader's attack came crashing down on me, I swiftly used my front claws to grip the top of his head. Without a moment's hesitation, I sidestepped and viciously bit into his neck.

Frost spun at Daimon’s cry, catching sight of him crumpled on the ground. One of the rogues sank its teeth into Frost’s arm, but he barely flinched. With a snarl, Frost seized the wolf by the throat and hurled it away like it was nothing. The rogue that had tried to ambush Andriel from behind lunged again, but Frost was ready. He caught it mid-attack, snapping its neck with a swift, brutal twist.

I spotted my Lycan mate in the middle of it all. He had three, maybe four, rogues coming at him specifically and he was lashing out at them left and right, tiring himself out but still fighting so hard. I leapt into action, throwing myself into the battle and grabbing one of the rogues by the throat. I pushed him far away from my mate and the rogue limped away in a hurry, his blood staining my fur. “That’s the one,” Freya hissed, pointing at the rogue I just sunk my teeth into. “He is the one I’ve seen torture my family!”

I bet he was the one being auctioned yet his aura still gave off dominance despite his hands being handcuffed. “We’re just on time. That’s him,” Kyle whispered. Huh? Putting aside the fact that he was tall and physically fit, he was not as scary as I expected him to be. Was it just me stereotyping? I mean… Since Kyle mentioned that Xavier Hawthorn was a mercenary, I expected that he would scare me the first time I set my eyes on him.

The scarred rogue's eyes glinted with feral intensity, and his scarred visage twisted into a snarl. Another warrior, with swift and calculated moves, engaged a rogue on the flank. Her dual blades gleamed in the moonlight as she skillfully parried the rogue's advances. Nearby, another warrior unleashed a barrage of elemental attacks, commanding the very earth beneath his paws to strike at the rogues with forceful tremors.