Funny Rogue Names Novels & Stories

“The man who attacked me. He referred to me as a… ‘rogue’ Luna. I wasn’t sure what that meant.” “Nothing,” he said defensively. “It doesn’t mean anything. He’s clearly just out of his mind. Don’t worry about it.” But this wasn’t good enough. He still hadn’t told me. “Kieran… what does it mean?” And I felt him softly sigh. “A rogue is… someone who doesn’t belong to a pack. They’re usually people who wander alone, unable to join anywhere due to their past. A past that is unforgivable and where they’ve committed atrocious, inexcusable acts. They’re all… criminals.”

But I promised that I would take her to see her family. Javier drops his defensive stance, responding, “I’m sorry man, it’s just bizarre that you didn’t know..” He looks apologetic. Then explains. “And a Rogue is a wild stray wolf, basically. They don’t have any leader or pack, and most don’t want one. They cause chaos wherever they go and are vicious killers. Ripping people who get in their way to shreds literally! They stank too.” And lil Shawn exclaims, “Yeah, they smell like garbage truck juice!”

“The rogue we managed to capture said something similar.” Sal's eyes went wide. “You guys captured a rogue? That's sick!” A moment of excitement crossed her gaze before she went serious and cleared her throat. “Okay so back to what I was saying, the rogues are essentially mercenaries sent here by someone from another pack. There was a man in charge of these mercenaries, he goes by the name Grog—” “Grog?” Kaiden said, looking pointedly at Bradford, who also had a similar look of surprise on his face.

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.

Gross, this guy just does not give up. Spinning on my toes, I turn and look the rogue in the eyes. Anger is coursing through me at this point, and I am sure that my eyes are glowing silver. "I told you to get lost," I growl at him. He takes a step back from my growl and he stares at me. "Well, well, well. You don’t smell like a wolf," he says sniffing my hair.

His only interest was inflicting pain for no reason. No one knows how we came about, even we did not know. History got lost somewhere, the history of the crazy werewolves called rogues. I followed Logan to a room which was large, green being the theme color for it. I frowned because it reminded me of the pack we came from and that was probably the point behind it all.

I put what I am doing to the side and gestured for him to take a seat. "Owen, I need to talk to you about something. I do not want you to take offense, but it's about rogues." I nod. Rogues often give packs trouble; somehow, I am an exception. Probably because I attempt to communicate with the wolf packs and live on neutral territory, it probably also helps that they come to my club. "I am not sure what help I can be," I don't associate with many wolves, other than those who work or are members of the club.

“Oh goddess, you’re serious, aren’t you?” “Of course I’m serious. You think I would be okay with rogues sitting on the edge of my territory? I want you gone.” Waving his head, he took a couple breaths. “Or what, Alpha?” “Excuse me?” My eyes widened as I watched this rogue straighten up, wiping a tear from his eye. “I said, ‘or what, Alpha?’. Was that not clear enough?” The rogue behind him chuckled and my jaw set, my fist balling up. “You think you rogues can just sit on the edge of the territory of a pack?”

27% rogue. It made me laugh out loud and, despite the lack of detail, still told me a lot about him: that he has a great sense of humor, that he’s single, that he can cook, and that he probably plays World of Warcraft. I thought he sounded fun. But he was so much more than that.

Sybil’s POV The man that dropped the gold coin on my head was the second in command, he was known as Eris, and he worked directly with the ruthless rogue alpha. There had been stories about the rogue alpha. Usually, stories were more rumors in packs, but not him, every story was real. How heads hung by the gate of his mansion as a warning to traitors. He didn’t need any petty fear, your head would just as easily add to his collection. He has many names. Great Wolf. The Rogue Alpha, the Warlord, Dalhkan King of the Rogue…how the epithets pile up, no one knew his true name, because throughout the entire pack, one name stood above all, we called him…The Butcher.