Outcasts Novels & Stories

Members only. I know what club he's talking about. I've heard whispers—Callum's teammates, late-night conversations I wasn't supposed to overhear. A place called Lux. Underground. Invite-only. The kind of place where NFL players go to disappear for a night, where everything is off the record and nothing leaves the building. And Caleb is taking some other girl there tonight.

He didn't know that the storm wasn't just outside his glass walls anymore—it was currently driving down I-5 at ninety miles an hour, carrying nine years of brotherhood turned to absolute ash. I looked down at the silicone prosthetic skin on my table. The crimson paint was dripping slowly down the artificial gears, looking less like art and more like a fresh, open wound. I couldn't stay here. I couldn't sit in this concrete bunker and wait for the body count to arrive. I grabbed my denim jacket from the back of the chair, not even bothering to wipe the flour and pigment from my hands, and ran out into the pouring rain.

In my last life, everyone in Leighton knew I was destined to marry Roman Falcone. Five allied families each sent an unmarried man, but everyone knew the other four were just there to make up the numbers. After all, I'd loved Roman and no one else since I was seventeen. Then my father died. Piece by piece, the Caruso empire fell into Roman's hands. Then I caught him with Marietta Conti in my father's study. I discovered my father hadn't died of natural causes. I fled with the evidence, but Roman's men hunted me down and killed me. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day I had to choose my husband. Roman still stood there, holding out his hand to me. Only this time, I walked right p

“Ethan doesn’t like competition. He never has.” I wrapped my arms around myself. “What happens now? Your account is frozen. You can’t move money. What if something else happens with Leo? What if Caleb comes back?” Jax walked to the window and stared out at the grounds for a long moment. When he spoke again, his voice was steady. “Then we deal with it the old way. Without banks.” He turned back to me, and the look on his face made my stomach tighten. “Get your things together. We’re leaving the city for a few days. There’s somewhere safer we can go while I sort this out.”

Logan was not just a celebrity but a dream. It was no mystery that Amanda lost her senses when life offered her a chance to be in close proximity with him. It turned out that Logan was nothing like the man she had imagined him to be and she might end up losing more than her senses.

"My wolf can’t smell the clockwork anymore. He smells the old blood of the mountain. We are entering the territory of the first-generation outcasts." A low, guttural chanting began to echo off the dark, glassy walls of the cavern, vibrating through the soles of our boots. From the shadows of the obsidian pillars, dozens of hulking silhouettes emerged. These were the Basalt Outcasts. Their skin was a cracked, grey patchwork of calcified stone and dark, thick veins that glowed with a faint, volcanic orange. They did not carry refined iron or brass; they wielded massive, jagged slabs of raw obsidian, their eyes burning with a wild,

"Help me hurt the people who made us outcasts." Sarah joined next. A she wolf exiled for attempting to poison a rival. She was cunning and cold. Perfect for what I needed. "What is in it for us?" Sarah asked. "Why should we risk our lives for your revenge?" "Because it is not just my revenge," I said. "It is all of ours. The packs threw us away like garbage. Treated us as less than nothing. But we can make them pay. We can take what they value most." Three more rogues joined over the following weeks. Each with their own grudges. Their own reasons for hating the pack system. Together we were dangerous. A pack of outcasts united b

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?"

I hear Jareth whisper once I’m inside. I start to crawl inside the metal duct being as stealthy as possible. A little further on I find the first grille through which I can have a peek inside the building, I see a tiny empty apartment. The whole building has apartments like this that the Righteous Regime is building for the Outcasts to live in. Outcasts are people who don’t belong to any of the ministries and don’t have steady jobs, they often have problems with substance abuse and occasionally cause trouble for Good Citizens. Making this building for them is an attempt by the Righteous Regime to give them decent housing for fre

"I'm from the Whitefang pack. I am–" She snorted, cutting me off. "At least you're not from that useless pack. The Halfcrest pack. Heaven knows even Xander wouldn't tolerate you if you were from there. Or worse, those uncultured bastards. The Black bane pack." Ophelia screwed up her nose in disgust. Even as she said the name of the outcast pack, a low shiver coursed through me and I suddenly remembered the dead bodies we had encountered on our way here, a testament of the poisoned abilities of the ‘uncultured bastards’.