Rogue Bunny Novels & Stories

Samson’s house came into view with rogues circling around it. Blaze instantly spotted the six rouges. The rouge positioned himself, ready to attack the Alpha. Blaze smirked at him. He lunged at Blaze, but he quickly dodged it and bit his neck. The rogue whimpered in pain. Blaze bit his neck hard, and he fell on the ground, dead. The other rouges snarled at the Blue Moon pack’s warriors. The beta known as Caleb attacked the rogues with the help of the warriors.

That was when Alyssia and Kristen decided to ask their own questions. "Okay, I didn't ask anything because everything seemed serious. "She turned to Nacen "What or who are rogues.?" "I knew you would like to know. Rogue are werewolves who have gone bad. They only think about killing and bad things. In short, they are bad news." He stated "and these rogue wolves have captured my cousin and his parents. We have to rescue them before its too late. My mother won't let me rest if she finds out that I did nothing to save her brother's family".

There were small white bunnies on the battlefield leisurely jumping towards an elder and the soldiers who were frantically creating tossing boulders and creating stone walls to keep the innocent-looking bunny away. "The snow bunny? what's such a dangerous talent doing here?" The snow bunny was one of the top 500 most dangerous talents known to mages. Talents in the top 1000 were so powerful that any mage born with them would be a powerhouse whether they had ever trained a day in their life or not.

“Before I make you.” The Rogue, however, wasn’t perturbed. He chuckled again, revealing two missing bottom teeth. His sinewy neck, tanned and leathered from days spent in the sun, was covered in faded tattoos. “Oh, really, princess?” he snarled. “Wanna bet?” “Yeah. I’ll bet.” In an instant, we were on each other. But while the Rogue’s movements were erratic and out of balance, I found my feet firmly planted in a fighting stance, my fists raised, my body easily maneuvering around the Rogue’s punches.

To bad he would not be able to help me escape, he must be loyal to his Alpha or he would be kicked out of the pack and end up turning rogue. Which meant no leader and other packs kill rogue on sight due to their lawlessness and no loyalty. They are like rodents eating your vegetables in the garden. No one liked rogues. Funny enough that is what I was, my brother and parents. We had to leave our pack behind because of Alpha Keeram, many packs feared him. Unfortunately mine was one of them, my Alpha Jake feared him so much so, that he was going to hand me over like a present. That's why we had no other choice but to go rogue and hide.

It has kept us sharp and fit. Ebony growls at the rogues, her paws digging into the ground. The snarl back before attack simultaneously. They’re coming from either side, so Ebony ducks under them, letting them hit each other in the air. She moves with lightning fast speed, jumping on the back of one of the rogues, clamping down on his neck and ripping it out. The rogue howls in pain, but Ebony just uses him as leverage to jump into the side of the other rogue. She lands on him, chomping down on his windpipe and ripping it out. Blood spatter all over her multicolored fur, but she doesn’t seem to notice. The wounded rogue is not dead yet, so Ebony rips out his throat as well and moves on. I’m

I couldn’t stop staring. The rogue camp was nothing like I expected. It wasn’t cold or strict like Bloodfang, where everyone feared making a single mistake. Here, everything was alive. Messy. Warm. Real. A group of wolves sat by a fire, laughing and passing a bottle around. Near another tent, two women sparred playfully, throwing punches and laughing without anger. Children ran between tents, shouting and chasing each other in a wild game of tag. Children. In a rogue camp.

A shiver travelled through my down my back. "That's about the same time the attacks started getting worse," he told me. "Why do you think you're a rogue? Do you even know what they are?" I felt the tears burn the back of my eyes as I knotted my fingers together in my lap. "My old pack told me that the only title I'd ever be worthy of is a rogue." "You're nothing like the rogue werewolves." Hunt sounded so reassuring and when I looked at him, his eyes were warm and kind.

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.

I am twenty years old, and I have been a rogue my whole life. I don't know who my parents are. I don't know if they are dead or alive or if they ever wanted me. I don't know anything about where I came from. All I know is that I have been on my own since before I can remember, stealing and lying and fighting just to stay alive. That is what rogues do. We do the dirty work. The illegal work. The work that packs do not want to admit needs doing. In return, we get money, food. A chance to see another day.