Rogue Artwork Novels & Stories

I deserve answers," I said. Sean looked over at Stephen, who nodded at him to tell me. "Okay, your parents were not murdered by bears. The policeman that told you that was a Rogue," Sean said "What's a Rogue?" I asked "A Rogue is a wolf without a Pack. They live alone. They normally did something bad to get kicked out of their Pack, like kill someone or betray their Alpha," Sean said "Why would a Rogue tell Jenn and me that our parents were killed in an animal attack?" I asked

The Rogue screams into my face, filling my nose with the rancid smell of his breath. "You will never get out of this," he taunts me, trying to push me back but the harder he tries, the deeper my nails push into his chest. "They will kill you, and there would be nothing you can do about it." I just laugh internally, watching Arthur push around Owen like he's a rag doll. Meanwhile, even though the scarred Rogue is doing his best to push me off and shift, the only thing he manages to do is hurt himself further. I dig further into his body, enjoying the swell of blood slowly surrounding him as my nails dig deeper. I know that Arthur and I should probably go, but I still want to make an example o

There was nothing in these old tomes about rogue symbols or the markings I’d seen. Frustration bubbled inside me. I sat down at the large oak table, pushing the books aside. My mind raced, replaying the image of that tattoo. Suddenly, an idea hit me. I grabbed a piece of paper and a pen, I began to draw, letting the memory guide me. The lines formed on the paper, the skull coming to life beneath my fingers. It felt like a puzzle piece falling into place as the word “Rogue” stared back at me from the page.

I wasn’t trying to get too close so I stayed where I was. “Human..” He said in a creepy way and ran his tongue over his lips. From what I know, rogues are cursed wolves and they do not have special abilities equivalent to actual wolves but are equally dangerous.. but good thing about them.. you don’t need silver to kill them. “Do you have some?” I asked since he wasn’t saying anything but looking at me like a prey. My heart beat loudly for a moment there but I had to keep my composure and focus.

Squinting my eyes, I tried to decipher the text. As I read the characters, I silently cursed. I was fluent in numerous languages, including Greek. And the words MADCREST PRIDE were tattooed on the man's neck in Greek characters. The Werewolf Council has given the go-ahead to pursue MADCREST PRIDE—a pack of rogues. Rogues are werewolves who have either been expelled from their pack or fled of their own free will. Being a lone wolf for an extended period of time without a pack drives them insane, but a hundred years ago, rouges discovered a means to extend their lives by forming their own pack. Due to the conflict between the initial leaders of the rogues and werewolves, which ultimately led t

Rich black dudes are usually badass I chuckled Me: not all Rogue: so why were they at your tail? Me: I really don't know I shoved my hands into my pockets and looked down Rogue : in the next ten minutes, I think they'd be ketchup and tomatoes, so we'll go ask them some questions Me: what's ketchup and tomatoes got to do with 'em? He smiled Rogue : have I ever told you I really like your accent? Me: you haven't. But you just let me in on it

The rogue shakes its head and still doesn’t shift, whining, morosely, as it continues to cower. I follow the aqua thread that is connected to the rogue and quickly breech its mind. Me: ‘You need to shift back now, or I will be forced to kill you.’ Rogue: ‘How...' Me: ‘It’s one of my gifts. Now do as I said.’ Rogue: ‘I can’t shift. I am stuck this way.’ Me: ‘Why?’ Rogue: ‘I can’t tell you.’ Me: ‘You can’t, or you won’t?’

His only interest was inflicting pain for no reason. No one knows how we came about, even we did not know. History got lost somewhere, the history of the crazy werewolves called rogues. I followed Logan to a room which was large, green being the theme color for it. I frowned because it reminded me of the pack we came from and that was probably the point behind it all.

" Is this how he looks like?" " Yes-no. He's a lot older now." He revealed. I returned the picture to him. " What's with his eyes?" I asked, folding my hands. " He has heterochromia." " But... You showed me the picture of a human. I thought you were looking for a wolf?" " Well, that wolf is this human." He announced. I looked at him, my mind blank for a bit. Although I knew what he was talking about, it was still hard taking it from another person. Another suspicious person.

Do not let them through! Despite the chaos, we were holding. Barely. Every time we pushed the rogues back, they surged forward again, driven by some unseen force. They weren’t fighting like wolves - they were fighting like pawns, mindless and relentless. I twisted mid-air to avoid another rogue, landing on my feet and snapping my jaws around its leg. A sickening crunch followed, and the rogue yelped, scrambling away. But there was no time to celebrate the small victory. Another wave of minions was charging, their glowing eyes a horrifying reminder of Andromeda’s dark magic.