Rebels Vader Novels & Stories

Ryan asked. "The thing is Sir, Rebels are not exactly rogues but they do appear like rogues. According to rumors, the members are abandoned or underappreciated wolves from different packs in the world and their leader is supposedly a product of a werewolf and a wizard. They were brought together by their hatred for people in power and will gladly accept any job that relates to taking down authoritative figures in a pack. So basically, they're hired murderers who use sorcery and their strength to murder their victims," Ivan explained and a thought immediately crossed Ryan's mind.

They haul me to my feet with such urgency that said "the faster they get this over with, the better it would be for everyone" They proceed to drag me through the trees like a plague they could not bear to touch. When we finally come to a stop at the clearing just at the edge of the forest, torchlight flared and I see them in the distance. The Moon council, looking exactly like the stories had described. The same seven figures, the same silvery black robes, the same air of entitlement and superiority, the same elder with ice in his eyes stood at the center. He looks at me like he had finally won a game I had no idea we were playing.

Six men in black surrounded us, silenced pistols raised. Damon moved like lightning, shoving Bianca behind him. His other hand went to his waist, only to find the holster empty. For the first time, I saw shock on his face. "Looking for this, Damon Vitale?" the leader's voice was a low growl. He held up Damon's gun. I knew that voice. Viktor. Old man Kozlov's son. The East Side's biggest psycho. Damon’s gaze snapped to Bianca, his eyes sharp with suspicion and cold fury.

"When I was drowning in the struggle for power, Karen was always there. She offered me comfort and encouragement. I was grateful for that, yes. But the only one I ever loved was Sera." The moment the words left my mouth, another man burst into the room with a small package. I tore it open, finding a tiny voice recorder inside. I pressed the play button. A familiar voice filled the room, cold and calculating. "Karen's been dead for a long time. So what? Your stupid parents will only believe me. All I have to do is put on a little show, and they'll always side with me. That idiot, Macro? He's no different..." The air was sucked from my lungs. A sharp, icy dread pierced my heart.

She was likely relieved to see him. Maverick’s warriors emerged from the trees, their weapons drawn. Rebel’s men responded in kind. His rebels didn’t outnumber the Grey Wolf elite warriors, but considering what they’d come for, it didn’t matter. Rebel recognized most of the Grey Wolves immediately. The faces that in his childhood memories remained boys instantly changed into those of the grown men who stared back at him. Grey Wolf elite alpha warriors. They all were. Except for Rebel.

Eva’s breath caught in her throat, her body tensed, ready for whatever came next. A group of armed rebels rounded the corner, their faces obscured by masks. They were armed with blasters, their movements swift and coordinated. Ryder motioned for Eva to stay silent, his hand gripping the hilt of his blade. The rebels passed by, unaware of their presence in the shadows. Eva let out a quiet breath, relieved but still on edge.

They lay under a sky unclouded by despair. And though doubts still lingered in Valen’s heart, he knew one thing clearly: these men hated Leo. Whether for survival or for justice, their hatred was real. And real hatred could be shaped into something useful. By morning, plans were already being whispered. Plans not of if, but of when. And the rebels, once broken and hopeless, now stood a little taller,because now they had found an Alpha who might just give them the chance they had prayed for.

She fought with with unmatcheocity, but even she could see the loyalists faltering. The rebels pressed forward like a tide, their eyes clouded black by Vaelor’s influence. Their claws and fangs lashed out with unnatural strength, striking down young and old alike. Iris surged into their midst, her twin flames slicing the shadows apart. “Stop this madness!” she cried. For a heartbeat, the rebels hesitated. Her voice—her presence—cracked through their fury like a whip. Some of the younger ones staggered back, shaking their heads as if waking from a nightmare.

"I feel you both... completely." "Forever," I gasped. "Ours." The door shattered fully then, rebels pouring in, Vespera at their forefront, sword raised. "Traitors! The bind ends now!" But Isaak and Rhaedon surged up, strength restored, shoving me behind them. Bone cracked and flesh tore as two massive forms surged forward in a blur of fur and fury. Isaak hit first, a dark shape slamming into the rebels with snapping jaws and raking claws. Rhaedon followed, blood-soaked and moving with lethal precision despite the poison’s fading echo.

I ordered steely. It was rather convenient to label her the leader of the resistance; how did a drone even manage to make its way here? A calculating move to declare war, The Rebel’s Creed has the confidence and the resources to fight us. “They started this war. I’ll finish it.”