Good Names For Rogues Novels & Stories

he said, “But this is the Malchian Grove. My home, my territory. You play by my rules only.” I puckered my lips, my eyes going all puppy. “Awwn, poor Mr. Beasty wants respect. “ Then, almost immediately, my tone became caustic. “Well, maybe you should have thought about it before abducting me. I’m never gonna play by your rules. Mark my words.” “It's Mr. Roberto-Macini. Matteo Roberto-Macini,” he said and I rolled my eyes. “You will have to, Miss. Your survival depends on your cooperation.”

She was a hard she-wolf, and she wouldn’t accept the bits and pieces. Anita did ultimately beat Russell and Jack, for that matter. She was alive to go on and do the work they trained her to do. Now on to bigger and better things. _____________________ Here ends The Rogue & The Rose. Don’t miss out on the story. Look up Klaira Blains for other titles belonging to the Black River Pack and Big City Wolves Series. I hope you enjoyed this and my other novels here only on GoodNovel. Love Klaira

Another Rogue. Only that this one has no smell.

In our realm, rogues are best known for killing their kind if they aren't given a chance. They're a great danger to packs because all they do is kill. We have a bad odor radiating from our bodies.No one can stand the unbearable smell of rotten flesh and rotten eggs. They're really easy to spot that's why they're easily killed. That way they're bestial But there are good rogues like me we don't kill people we just try to survive which is hard because there are rouges out who still want to kill us despite us not being bad.

The one who stood at his right hand side uttered with a deep voice, one which echoed into his ears and sent a chilling feeling down his bones and his spines. It was surprising they didn't smell. Were they rogues or just portray themselves as one? There is always this unique and pungent smell associated with rogues which this pack doesn't have. He was beginning to feel that they weren't rogues but just named rogues. The Alpha rogue had always been an elusive wolf that was had to come across but he was also known to be notorious. He converts and kills anytime without conscience as long as it goes against him. He was just like Starr.

He stopped speaking and faced me again. "That's all the members of the Werewolves packs?" I asked him. "There's actually this called the Rogues." "Who are they?" "Rogues are actually those wolves that have been outcast or left their packs." "It's like a human being when it comes to them, there are also outcasts." "Yeah." "So what else are you talking about them?"

Not when the pack needed me. “Who?” I asked, my voice steady despite the fear gnawing at the edges of my mind. “The ones who will stop at nothing to take you down,” he said, his gaze locked on the horizon, where dark shapes began to emerge from the trees. “The rogues. They’ve been waiting for this moment.” Rogues. The word sent a chill through me. They were outcasts, wolves who had been cast aside, abandoned by their packs, or gone rogue for reasons I couldn’t even begin to understand. But one thing was clear: they would stop at nothing to claim my power.

Most Rogues lived off the grid and liked it that way, favoring intense privacy over modern amenities. The houses were funded by a collective run by an anonymous benefactor, a wolf as infamous among Rogues as Maverick Grey was among the Grey Wolves. They called him the Rogue. Not a Rogue, but the Rogue. If there was a leader among the packless, the unwanted, the underdogs and scoundrels of shifter society, it was him. Though few had met him and lived to tell the tale, rumors painted him as a dark Robin Hood, fighting for the better treatment of her kind. He was as much myth and legend as he was a hero.

He searched her eyes with his own, checking for any hint of hesitation or manipulation but Adira maintained eye contact, calm and unmoving. “Okay,” he nodded, “I’m going to choose to trust you on this but if you ever break that promise-” “I won’t.” Adira cut in firmly. He took a deep breath and nodded before he spoke, “Aspen. That was my birth name, my ‘real name’ as you call it.” Adira simply blinked at him, “Aspen is nothing like Braxton.” He let out a dry chuckle, shaking his head at her comment. It was true, of course, but that was entirely the purpose of having a code name.

A shiver travelled through my down my back. "That's about the same time the attacks started getting worse," he told me. "Why do you think you're a rogue? Do you even know what they are?" I felt the tears burn the back of my eyes as I knotted my fingers together in my lap. "My old pack told me that the only title I'd ever be worthy of is a rogue." "You're nothing like the rogue werewolves." Hunt sounded so reassuring and when I looked at him, his eyes were warm and kind.