Rogue Artwork Novels & Stories

He wore simple clothes, dark pants, a worn jacket, boots that looked like they’d walked too many miles. A rogue. It showed in everything about him, the way he moved, careful and ready for anything. The scars along his arms and neck told stories of fights he’d lived through. The guarded look in his eyes said he’d been broken before and somehow kept going. He’d been through hell. “You're beautiful,” he said softly, his eyes moving over my huge wolf body. “Scary as hell, but still beautiful.” If I could have laughed, I would have. Beautiful? No. I was nothing close to that. I was a monster wearing a pretty disguise.

Unlike how I found him unconscious and butt naked. "Why did you leave your pack, Peyton?" He questions, eyes never leaving mine. "Stepping foot into this land as an exiled wolf makes you nothing but a rogue. And we do kill rogues, or lock them up because they're never to be trusted." The lines on his forehead are furrowing as he makes this known to me.

He worked on his ignition, but the car refused to come to life. No no no. The creature growled again as John Doe continued to work on the ignition. Then it stopped right beside him, smashed the windows and plunged in its arm. John Doe made a dodge and stretched for the at the other side. He yanked it open, but before he could make it outside, the creature grabbed his leg. Its claws driving deep into his flesh.

what the FUCK is that that's not a wolf, wolves aren't that big clearly fake, nice cgi I live near there and my neighbor's dog went missing last month just saying looks like a bear but the proportions are all wrong werewolf confirmed lmao That last one made me want to throw up. I scrolled further, and it got worse. More videos, from different cameras, different angles. Someone had created a compilation. Someone else had mapped the sightings, tracking the creature's territory. The map centered directly on my cabin. "Hey, you okay?" Mina appeared at my elbow, frowning. "You look like you've seen a ghost." "I'm fine." I shoved my phone in my pocket. "Just... internet bullshit. You know how it i

“Your tongue seems remarkably articulate for a rogue. Stupid pride must run deep through your broken veins. Since Amara kindly requested that my hands mentor your path, my mind will extend one single opportunity to your wolf.” Luciano gestures heavily toward the Spring Goddess painting. “Why not share your own personal interpretation of this globally acclaimed masterpiece with the packs?” At his harsh suggestion, every single eye in the stone room swivels fast toward my body. Haley immediately directs the heavy camera lenses to capture my raw reaction. This specific segment—meticulously orchestrated by the corrupt production team—aimed to broadcast my absolute humiliation live to the territo

Angel commanded and the knights around them were about to get them. “NO! PLEASE! WE REALLY DO NEED A PLACE TO HIDE!” the mean rogue clicked his tongue before he fakedly plead. Mira turned and her eyes turned bloody red. She is totally mad. “Stay put on your spot. Don’t you dare move...Let me tell you something that you don’t know. I choose rogues, any packless wolf or vampires or any creatures to live here and those creatures who were living here were all promising and nothing like you since I’m not the ordinary mistress of our land and he’s not typical alpha you’ve ever encountered before. So, stay put and die.” Mira spit venom as she grabbed the two mean rogues’ chins as she made sure that

I had to forcefully tear my gaze away from Connor to face the redheaded man. “Nice to meet you,” he said, about to raise his hand,“Im-” He suddenly broke off and I noticed his nose twitching. He had finally caught my scent. “You're a-” “Rogue. Yes.” I clenched my jaw as I forced a small smile. The man looked lost for words. I couldn't see anything on his features apart from utter shock, proving that He seemed stunned at the sight of me. It wasn't a good thing or a bad thing, depending on what happened after.

I take a break from my work and hunt down and kill rogues that have gone insane. Unlike most werewolves, I don’t kill all rogues, just the ones that are insane. That is why I said that the werewolf treatment of rogues is a problem. Often, wolves who have gone rogue to escape a bad situation and are seeking shelter, are killed or imprisoned simply because they are rogues. Ugh. This annoys me so much. Innocent people are killed because of herd mentality. Why can’t the pack wolves see that some rogues are not bad?

The bell over the door rings and the smell of coffee hits me, and the barista smiles like this is just another afternoon. “Hey, what can I get you?” “Coffee,” I say. “Black.” She nods and turns around, and I watch reflections in the glass instead of faces. Two wolves I do not recognize. A hunter pretending to scroll. And something else that feels wrong, like rot mixed with metal. Gus is moving pieces. I take the coffee and leave without sitting, and the second I step back outside my phone buzzes again. A call this time. “Arachne,” I say when I answer.

Atlas’s massive form becomes a wall of fury as he leaps over a fallen pillar to shield me, his claws rending a rogue’s throat in a spray of dark crimson. ​I swing the dagger at a third attacker. Its torso ignites in blinding silver light, the rogue crumpling in a cloud of ash with a dying screech that echoes off the ancient oaks. The dagger’s wrath is lethal, tied directly to my blood—a guardian, just as the visions promised. Aria’s growl is a triumphant blaze that makes my veins sing. ​The remaining rogues hesitate, fear flickering in their compelled, crimson eyes. But then, a low, unnatural horn echoes from the ridges.