Rogue Antonym Novels & Stories

"If you don't reject him, I'll have to declare him a rogue and banish him from this pack. We don't need him here." "You can't do that father. He is your subject! You can't maltreat your pack members for no reason! That will be outrageous!" I yelled. I couldn't believe my ears. Being declared a rogue was the worst thing that could happen to a werewolf — aside from being rejected. A rogue was an outlaw, one without a pack. He was sent out of his home to roam about the deadly forest alone. Rogues were helpless wolves without the protection of an alpha and they were open to any attack whatsoever

A fallen rogue is an individual who has succumbed to negativity and can be extremely hazardous. Their putrid odor is not only lethal, but they also resemble a zombie with no signs of sanity. It is nearly impossible to approach them, except for a genuine companion who can pierce through the darkness in their heart. A true companion is the only hope that can lead them out of the abyss, no matter how far they have fallen called true mate. “That will be difficult.” Angel sighed before he glance at Mira who gave her a reassuring smile.

“I am not one to waste time. I know that the two of you need to rest.” I could hear Lincoln suck in a breath because he knew what was coming. “I can you offer you protection, Lincoln,” Patrina said. “The best one. My entire pack is full of warriors. Randwulf Stein would not be able to touch you here.” “It’s the safest option,” I seconded, hoping it would convince him more. “The purebloods are getting ready to pounce on you. It’s practical for you to be in a pack than be a rogue.”

“Disappointed?” His gaze flicked to the dirt under my nails, the bruises blooming across my arms. “Impressed,” he said finally. The word sat heavy between us. Raven walked past, throwing her knife into the dirt beside the fire. “Don’t get sentimental, Mason. She’s still got a long way before she’s one of us.” “One of you?” I asked. Raven shrugged. “Rogue doesn’t mean monster. It means survivor. You either learn that or die wishing someone had warned you sooner.”

“Soon.” *** The rogue park, as their pack was fondly called, is just as the name implies. They have been the outcasts of their packs, left to suffer a terrible end in the woods, but fate has managed to bring them together. Of them all, Kane was the largest, standing at 6’3 ft., and his wolf was the largest among them all and feral, so he naturally became the Alpha. To humans, they were known as rogue mafias, one of the deadliest underground movements in the United States, and they specialized in the sale of weapons and arms.

Such betrayal, but what would you expect from a rogue. Never trust a rogue.

"I think they want something else. Something beyond money." "What could rogues want?" Anita began listing possibilities, her irritation building. "Money. Weapons. Ammunition. Cigarettes. Whatever else these people use to make their miserable lives slightly more enjoyable." Anita's harsh words against rogues were a slice of what my reality would become if my family ever found out about my bond with the Rogue Alpha. Even without Anita's abduction, I had no business getting involved with a rogue. His reputation, the people surrounding him, all of it should have been enough to make me run.

I put what I am doing to the side and gestured for him to take a seat. "Owen, I need to talk to you about something. I do not want you to take offense, but it's about rogues." I nod. Rogues often give packs trouble; somehow, I am an exception. Probably because I attempt to communicate with the wolf packs and live on neutral territory, it probably also helps that they come to my club. "I am not sure what help I can be," I don't associate with many wolves, other than those who work or are members of the club.

"Nothing. The snow doesn't help us at all. When I found his body, he was half-buried under an inch of snow. But I'm willing to bet that this was done by them." By them, Scott meant the rogues and he wasn't wrong. A normal werewolf didn't do this. And while we had it in us to kill humans and devour their bodies, we no longer lived like that. We came a long way for us to be a bel to exist in civilization. We ate normal food and depended on animal hunts. The rogues, however, have been on a killing spree these last few months. And it's not for food. They're killing just for the thrill of it. It doesn't matter if it's humans or werewolves, rogues didn't care about that. There were good ones, yes,

A howl sounds some distance in the front, just at the same time a group of rogues leap out of the bushes. I spring into motion immediately, all my training kicking in. I knock the first one down just before he shifts into his wolf, wrapping the wire around his neck and pulling hard. Suddenly, the clearing is a battlefield. Weapons clash against weapon, rogues fall down. I roll to the side, avoiding the snapping of fangs as a wolf lands where I stood a second ago. From the corner of my eye, I see Ragnar watching it all from the sidelines, like a messenger of death himself.