Rod Rage Novels & Stories

I gave her one stare and hoped it was enough to send her packing but I knew a stare would never deter Elissa from her mission. I turned, my wolf galloping away in anger. He was panting as we ran. My own beta accused me of being feral and maybe I was. I did not mind. If I had to be a rogue to kill them, so be it. They would all pay for what they did to my mother. They would all scream and beg like my sisters and I had. Rogues tore every part of me from inside out and left my mind crumbled. The only thing that brought me back was the need to avenge my family. None of the rogues would be spared. There would be no mercy at all.

“It doesn’t matter; you’re mated now. I am happy for you.” “What about you? Have you found a mate?” “I did, when I turned 18. She was older by two years. About a week after we met, there was a rogue attack; she was one of the few who didn’t make it. It all made sense why Dylan hated Owen. It isn’t because of who Owen is; it is because Owen is considered a rogue. Dylan probably blames all rogues for losing his mate. “I am sorry to hear that.” I touched his shoulder and gave a sympathetic smile.

I heard their roars and threw one of the rogues towards Aiden as he shifted and swiped his paw on the rogue’s neck and dislocated his head before he even touched the ground. Damn, my man is sexy as fuck when he goes all Alpha. ‘Show me later,’ Aiden said. Even now, he is listening to my thoughts and still protecting my sister and me. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Rodrigo. He is fighting two rogues. He has shifted, and it’s the first time I've seen his shadow maw. He isn’t as big as I am, though. One of the rogues is coming up behind him with a silver knife.

His hands gripped Roderick’s collar, fingers digging into the fine fabric of his shirt as he pushed his father backward. Roderick’s head thudded against the floor with a dull thump, but he rebounded quickly; years of suppressed ruthlessness surged forth. He bucked up, slamming an elbow into Rowan’s ribs, forcing a sharp grunt from his throat. The pain flared bright and hot but only fueled his fury, sharpening it into something primal and relentless.

Rodrigo stormed towards him and grabbed him by the collar. “Seriously? I just fixed that.” “Shut the fuck up, so we finally meet huh, you crazy bastard.” “Stop overreacting, you're much worse than me.” “Rodrigo, please, let him go and we'll talk like adults.” Rodrigo chuckled loudly, tightening his grip on his collar. “This asshole tried to kill me, several times, hurt Hillary, and tried to kill my father, and you want me to be calm? You're out of your mind.”

As Tom would take me from behind, the warm water running down my back as one hand firmly gripped my hip and the other my shoulder. Don't think of him, whatever you do, don't think of him. Tom Bradley was the Alpha of the Rogues, a pack made up of wolves that had been banished from their packs for various reasons. Some valid, but mostly because they were traitors, vicious and untrustworthy. Which made the pack volatile and unruly, and that chaos suited their leader, whose wolf was becoming more and more unhinged. Not the type of wolf the daughter of the alpha of the prestigious Red Crescent Pack should be in company with. But I just couldn’t stay away, I was drawn to his badness like a moth t

“Twenty years ago, we fought a fucking war because one asshole couldn’t accept his mate. “It ended alright because you and Bhakti got Sandra. But that homophobic jackass killed his male mate, slaughtered a group of rouges, and started a civil war—because he couldn’t accept the gift the Goddess gave him. “And now, our girls might make a similar mistake. Maybe not one that causes a war, but one that’ll leave scars on their hearts and minds. I get that Tomas has made mistakes. I get that they’re angry. But they need to accept him. “Especially now—with whatever shit the gods are stirring up and the Riding Hoods still out there—we need to be as strong as we can. Trios give us power. They strength

Right at the top of the ledge, leaning as far out over the broken ice edge as his guards could hold him, was Roderic. He wasn't wearing a mask. His face was pale, his jaw set in a terrifying, savage line as the freezing wind blew his dark coat around his shoulders. The air around his bare chest was literally smoking, the intense heat radiating off his body turning the falling snow into fine white mist before it even touched him. "Grab the line, Zavier!" Roderic roared down into the pit, his bare hand reaching straight through the freezing gale toward me, completely ignoring the sub-zero wind biting into his skin. "Grab the rope, goddamn it, or I'm coming down there myself!"

he says, and I struggle to understand how he could be so calm right now. Roddy fucking WAS the Flying Death to me. Everything we represent, stand for and protect. He was all of it. I feel cheated, robbed. Nowhere to direct the intense anger bubbling inside me. There’s only one thing that will satiate me, though it’s only ever temporary. The itch is never, ever fully scratched. I squat to the ground, rip my muscle shirt off and use the clean side to wipe the blood from my face. Missile and Buddy come in, I only know by their scents. I don’t look anywhere but at Dozer.

Roderick's Doubts Roderick Blackfang yanked the crossbow bolt out of his shoulder, wincing. Yeah, it hurt like hell, but the guy was built like a fortress. Blood seeped down his arm, staining his leather, but his grip on the battle axe? Never even wobbled. He stared down at the chaos swirling beneath Kael's little stage, taking it all in with a face like thunder. This was not the deal he’d signed up for.