Rex Rebels Novels & Stories

"They cut the hardline." Kael sat beside me. He was vibrating with tension. He had ripped off his tie. His knuckles were white as he gripped the door handle. "How many men?" Kael asked. His voice was a low rumble that shook the seat. "Dorian has a team of four," I said. "But my father would not send thugs. He would send the Reapers." "Reapers?" "Private military contractors," I explained. "Genetically enhanced. Pain resistant. They are the ones who burned our house down five years ago."

“Boss searched for your information, Rebel, and there’s only one wolf who can give it to you.” Rebel nodded. “Tell me.” “Walker Solomon.” Rebel stiffened. Walker Solomon was likely the only rebel wolf on the North American continent who Rebel didn’t have under his thumb—and the one wolf he refused to deal with. The owner and proprietor of a supernatural casino near Amarillo, Texas, Solomon was a rebel werewolf and businessman. Aside from being Rebel’s only rival, Solomon was the craziest bastard Rebel had ever had the misfortune to encounter.

"This is too messy for me. It would ruin my big plans. I thought I have liberated the pack, this attack is going to give reasons to the council to question me. There are lives on the line here, and Alfred would see this as an opportunity. This is just the perfect time to create his trap and I might as well fall into it. Did you find out where that arrow symbol is from?" "Yes, Alpha Noah." I waited for him to speak but he had that tired look on his face which means it wasn't good. "There is a set of Rebels, they are in for blood. They were either hired or worked on their own. I believe it is the latter. They work with rogues because that's what they want us to believe." "What are they called

Three hundred Nulls stood on the other, breathing in staccato gasps. A divided house. My stomach twisted—iron knots pulling tighter. "You think they are weak?" I asked the Rogue. I pointed to the Nulls. "They have no fur," the Rogue spat. "No claws. They break." "They have fingers," I corrected. "And they have aim." I signaled Rax. The rebel leader stepped forward. He pulled a tarp off a pile of jagged weapons. They were composed of pipes, wires, and canisters of glowing blue fluid.

"Oh, believe me. We have more. We just have it packed away at the current moment." Looking back at the kid and the taller man, I see the man put the shovel into a crate, the kid now handing him a baseball bat and the man doing the same. Now that Martin mentioned it, there are a bunch of crates in the Rebels' base, the crates reminding all too much of Rex and Rebecca. "Where is Rebecca," I ask, grabbing Martin's shoulder and a guard hitting me in the back of the head as soon as I do. Stumbling forward and screaming, I pick myself back up.

Rebecca’s hands were shaking and she sported a big smile. “You guys know how I’ve been following the entire case of our founder? Mrs Elena Windsor?” “Not Windsor, babes,” Stella her friend shook her head in exasperation but a small smile played on her lips. “She’s not married to Mr David anymore,” Rebecca’s cheeks flushed red. “True, anyways!” She commanded the attention of the room back and dropped her voice to a whisper. “Check this, she got married again,” “You’re lying. Last we heard, she was engaged to Mr David again and went by Tamara Caraballi. After the arrest, she kind of fell off the radar,” A random co worker called out as agreements rose up in the room.

Across his rusted gas tank, a brutal, unforgiving motto had been spray-painted in thick white letters: Blood on the asphalt. Dax stared at the Revers, his amber eyes narrowing as he evaluated the threat. He recognized the look of a hardened crew that had survived the apocalypse by refusing to yield to it. "Mercenaries," Captain Reyes said, stepping onto the catwalk behind us. She looked down at the chaotic army with deep suspicion. "You broadcast an open invitation, Steele. You didn't just invite the innocent. You invited killers, thieves, and opportunists. And I guarantee you, Neo-Angeles has spies mixed into that crowd."

He grabbed a second submachine gun from the wall rack and checked the chamber with a metallic clack that sounded like a death knell. ​"They’re in the lower tunnels," he growled, his eyes fixed on the security monitors. The screens showed thermal signatures—ghostly white figures emerging from the black water of the grotto. They were moving with military precision, draped in sleek rebreather gear and carrying compact, high-caliber weapons. "The Reapers. The Council’s personal cleanup crew. They don't take prisoners, Leona. They erase mistakes." ​"And we're the biggest mistake they ever made," I said, my voice surprisingly steady as I tightened the grip on the sidearm he’d given me. The adrenal

Jaguar. We rolled out in formation, heading west of Austin. The Rebels had their clubhouse there, a little piece of shit, hole-in-the-wall bar in the middle of their tiny territory. We’d been on decent terms with the Rebel MC for a few years. Back when we were slowly expanding our territory and eating up the other local clubs, the Rebels had been our only ally in the fight. But since then, the relationship had soured. They had begun competing with us, importing cheap weapons from China and even cheaper drugs from South America. We were doing the same thing, and making way more money, but they were beginning to cut into our bottom line.

The bulky giants there were training, some were gymming, it was a huge hall with separate arenas dedicated to different activities, there was a boxing ring as well, their bodies were huge, bulky and sweaty The moment the men saw Rebel enter with a woman following in the bridal wear, they stopped doing what they were doing and stood still , watching at the woman as if she were a beautiful delicate deer being watched by a group of lions The men had all stopped doing what they were doing and began nearing her, Rebel stood at the centre, she panicked and tried to seek shelter behind him but he pulled her out and made her stand before her, making her easily accessible to the giants inching closer