Healer Rogue Lineage Novels & Stories

I could never understand the pain he went through, finding his brother's body the way he did, but I know he can't let himself die from his own injuries. As wolves, we tend to heal from any injury as long as it's not our throats torn out, or head detached, but rogues don't have that luxury. Part of our curse is a slower healing. To be deemed a rogue, is to be deemed worthy of the slow and painful death of injury. We heal from wounds fast, but not as fast as pack shifters. "I want to kill them all." Riven's hard voice reaches me again.

Tears burned my eyes instantly. “You’re lying.” The healer shook his head immediately. “I am not.” Cassian stared at him sharply. “Who sealed it?” “We do not know.” The healer looked troubled now. “But powerful suppression magic exists in ancient bloodlines.” Draven suddenly stepped forward. “What bloodline?” The healer hesitated and that hesitation terrified me and Cassian noticed too. “Speak.” The old man inhaled slowly. Then whispered: “The Moonfang Line.” The name echoed through the room heavily and I frowned weakly.

For the first time in fifteen years, they weren’t aiming at each other. Below the wall, twenty figures moved through the treeline. They weren’t organized like a pack. No formation, no alpha in front. But their eyes glowed wrong—flickering blue-white, like fractured crystal. Moonstone corruption. “Hold,” Roran said, his voice steady. One of the rogues stepped forward. Tall, scarred, with a shard of blue stone embedded in his palm. He grinned, feral and wrong. “Kael Blackthorn,” the rogue called. His voice was layered, like two people speaking at once. “Give us the healer. The stone wants her.”

Rhyker laid the scroll flat on the table, yhe first line was written in blood-red ink: HEIR RECORD—SILVERCREST ROYAL HEALER LINE Kael leaned in, eyes narrowing. “This is… Korra’s lineage.” Rhyker nodded. “Which means Lucien was after this.” Korra whispered, “Why?” Rhyker’s voice dropped. “Because if rogue warlords discover the Silvercrest heir lives… they will wage war to control her.” Kael wrapped an arm around Korra’s waist. “They won’t get her.” Rhyker exhaled heavily, rubbing his forehead. “You are both targets now. Kael, because you’re her mate, and Korra, because you’re the last of your kind.”

I roared, observing his hasty retreat, his movements a blur of desperation. That was the fourth warrior that I put down today. I hate to admit it, but whatever that healer did to me was f*cking amazing! My shoulder was injured in battle, and some feral rogue bit half of it off. It took me years to heal, and even then, it was only partially healed. I had some mobility and even less strength. Ordering the Healer to prove herself turned out to be a miracle gift. I returned home that day and went straight to the gym. I was utterly dumbfounded when I could lift three times the weight I could before. I felt better than I ever have. She has no idea what she has done for me. This will make my plans

I thought it was just a lore which I hardly believed. “I thought it was just a nonsense story,” I said. “It was not. Maybe to the new generation but not to us, the remaining shaman. I knew a prophecy that involved the Healer pack and the fate of your kingdom,” she said. “Tell me about it.” “Lunar casted a curse on the Royal family of Rogue to anger Fenrir. And you, your highness, the last bearer of that curse. You will subcummed in your beast, turning you into a savage beast killing humans and wolves alike. The curse was unliftable so Fenrir blessed a bloodline to the healer, and that was the healer pack. In the prophecy, twins will be born, one will shade the real healer and hide it from Lu

Ethan ordered. I wasn’t comfortable with that. I was a healer. I was supposed to heal my patients all the way. But we needed to know where they’d taken Leo. And I could always finish healing him once we had the information we needed. It could even be part of the bargain. The Rogue didn’t d need to know I would heal him either way. I placed my hand on the Rogue’s chest, and focused. I healed the worst injuries, and stabilized the rest. My wolf grumbled in the back of my mind. She was unhappy healing someone who’d hurt Leo, and unhappy leaving a healing unfinished.

Could he be their healer? Introducing themselves briefly, Han confirmed that none of this party’s members were sane, not even the most innocent-looking kid. How could a healer also be a rogue? Moreover, their scout was a draconian marksman with no stealth skills. Their tank wasn’t the buff woman with a boomerang. It was the pretty boy with the long braid who came with the doll girl who was their warrior and magician. On top of that, their actual magician was closer to an engineer with tendencies to utilise weapons of mass destruction. “I’ve never seen a party as oddly matched as yours,” Han blurted out. “It’s so ridiculous, I don’t know what to say. Why are you looking for the two-legged wol

Just wolves who'd run out of patience meeting wolves who'd made the mistake of being the thing in the way. I didn't waste motion. Didn't roar. Just dismantled. The rogues came in coordinated waves—side passages channeling them in controlled numbers, never enough to overwhelm, always enough to keep us occupied. Quite trained. This was choreography, not chaos. A rogue broke past the outer line toward Rhiannon. She didn't shift. Didn't retreat. Just raised one palm, and silver light detonated outward—not soft, not healing, but blinding. The rogue screamed, hands clawing at his eyes. I stepped in and ended it before he hit the ground.

Her wolf form is a blur of cinnamon coloured and white fur, her eyes glowing with determination as she fends off the soldiers with calculated precision. Each soldier who approaches her is met with a powerful swipe of her claws or a swift, agile dodge that leaves them stumbling. Zeva's spirit shines through her, a formidable force working in perfect harmony with Cynamon's instincts. For a moment, I dare to hope that we might actually overcome this threat.