Krogan Without Armor Novels & Stories

Rogan appeared from the side and pounced on the rogue closest to Nina. “GET YOUR DISGUSTING BEINGS AWAY FROM WHAT IS MINE!!!” Rogan screamed as he attacked the first rogue. All he had to do was send a powerful slash at the rogue with his claws and it flew back a few meters and a terrible gash had appeared on its stomach. It cried out in pain.

Then— They dropped from the branches above. Three of them. Masked. Armored in scraps of dark steel. Eyes glowing with that unnatural sickly red that Gregon’s soldiers carried. I stumbled back, my heel catching on a root. One stepped forward and sniffed the air. Then his gaze fixed on me. “Old,” he rasped, voice sharp with hunger. “But not useless.” Another tilted his head. “She could be useful.” They moved in unison, predators that had been hunting far too long.

"This is a rogue pack. We run by our own rules here. The rest of our kind have all kicked us out, shunned us from their traditions so here we are." "How do I trust you? I've seen what your kind has done. All those people you've killed." His eyes harden as he stared at me. "Look, we're not the only rogue pack out here. I can tell you that we are not the savage kind. We have killed a few hunters over the past few years but not recently." "It's a lot to take in," I said and he nodded as he stood up. "I'll someone come and bring you food until I'm certain that you won't try to run or harm us," he said before he left the room.

*** Alpha King Draven’s POV Rogues. Kronos let out a low growl of disgust in my mind, his irritation clear. I parked my car in the garage, stepping out into the chaos. Bodies were everywhere. The caravan had fought hard, taking down most of the rogues, but the losses were heavy. The sight of it all stirred something deep within me. It wasn’t just anger—it was failure. A failure to protect what was mine. She wasn’t even marked, Kronos snarled, his frustration matching my own.

Evangeline managed a shaky grin. When it was over, the howls shook the whole damn forest. Bet the MoonClaw Pack heard and wondered who had the guts to throw a party in rogue territory. Who the hell was rising up. Guess they’d find out. Meanwhile, Kieran Cross sat on the edge of the training grounds, shirtless, bruised, sweating like he’d just run through hell. Warriors circled him, licking their wounds from the last scrap with the rogues. Guy looked calm, but you could see the anger boiling right under the surface.

My reflection stared back from the cracked fountain—bloodstained armor, eyes rimmed red from sleeplessness, the weight of my crown heavy enough to crush bone. Maybe this was what leadership was: not power, but the courage to lay it down and fight the right enemy. No rogue should suffer for the sub of one. As I stepped out, the courtyard was full with my pack members. Guards stood in tense lines along the walls, their armor scorched and dented. Wolves, servants, and soldiers watched from the steps, their faces a mixture of fear and confusion. And in the center stood the rogues—filthy, bruised, but alive.

Claws extended, he sprinted toward the fray, the ground trembling under rogue boots pounding the earth. Flames erupted along the ward line, the barrier flickering out like a snuffed candle. Zara's treachery—Torin scented it now, her sly perfume tangled with the invaders' stench. 'Traitorous bitch,' he snarled, leaping over a fallen log. Rogues poured through the gap, two dozen at first, then a flood: scarred brutes in spiked armor, axes swinging, cocks bulging against leather as battle-lust surged. They crashed into the pack's front line, blades clashing, teeth ripping flesh. A beta went down under a rogue's boot, throat torn open in a spray of blood, his body jerking as the attacker pissed

I murmured, though my voice was barely above a whisper. Without another word, he shifted into a massive brown wolf much larger than the rogues. The rogues looked like mere pups in comparison. With terrifying ease, he tore through them, his fangs ripping into their flesh, his claws a blur of deadly motion. While he was busy holding them off, one rogue broke away from the fight and charged toward me from the side. Before my armored army could reach me, the creature lunged and its claws slashed through my side. Pain exploded through me.

I guess they must not be worried about being ambushed. Just as I thought it, Daemon mind-linked me, "They are not the smartest. They aren't even masking themselves." "Maybe they are arrogant in thinking they don't have to worry. There aren't many warriors here with Roger, and all the other warriors were loyal to Brandon and his son," I replied. "Still, be wary. I wouldn't put it past Kree to set a trap." As the rogues drew nearer, our warriors tightened their formation, ready to strike at a moment's notice. The tension in the air was palpable, and even the rustling of leaves seemed to magnify in the silence of the night.

Tim says as he paces forward towards me. I continue to step back as the warriors stand with me moving in front of me. As quickly as they are there, they are surrounded by three rogues each. With the wolfsbane in their systems, they are unable to shift, and I watch in despair as the rogues destroy the two warriors in front of my eyes.