Novel & Cerita Rogue Heroes

one of them snorted. I bit my tongue, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a reaction. The air was cold, damp, and carried the metallic scent of blood and smoke. My heartbeat was steady now, not calm, but focused. I needed to think. Needed to understand what was happening. A rogue Alpha. That’s what he had said right? Rogues didn’t have Alphas. They weren’t supposed to. They were wanderers, broken wolves with no loyalty, no structure, no rules. But if they had one now… that meant they were organized and united. That made them dangerous, more dangerous than I had imagined.

But that assumption was clearly bullshit. Rogues weren’t just dangerous, they were unpredictable, savage, and unbound by any laws of a pack. Outcasts who had been stripped of rank, banished for rebelling, who now tore through the world like beasts of vengeance. And when they weren’t being hunted, they hunted back. One rule about rogues: They never came alone. I turned to run, but the air shifted. The wind hissed through the trees unnaturally fast, and before my foot could even lift off the ground, something dropped from above.

But soon, the stench of rogues hit me before I saw them, rank, sour, like rot. Their den was carved into a hillside, and they had a huge population. But I didn’t hesitate. I could defeat a million of them. “Rip them apart!” I roared, charging forward. The fight exploded like thunder. Rogues poured out, teeth snapping, blades flashing. I met the first head-on, slashing his throat clean, blood spraying across my chest. My warriors tore into them like fire through dry grass. “Conrad!” I shouted, even as I gutted another rogue.

“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.”

Most Rogues lived off the grid and liked it that way, favoring intense privacy over modern amenities. The houses were funded by a collective run by an anonymous benefactor, a wolf as infamous among Rogues as Maverick Grey was among the Grey Wolves. They called him the Rogue. Not a Rogue, but the Rogue. If there was a leader among the packless, the unwanted, the underdogs and scoundrels of shifter society, it was him. Though few had met him and lived to tell the tale, rumors painted him as a dark Robin Hood, fighting for the better treatment of her kind. He was as much myth and legend as he was a hero.

His gaze following every single movement Jayson made, if I didn't hate him and kind of want him dead, then I probably would have appreciated his protection a little more. "Who says I took them down without any help?" I returned the question without hesitation. "There's not a man out there is stupid enough to help a rogue. They especially wouldn't dare help a rogue who was residing so close to the border of another territory," Jayson replied with confidence. "If that's the case then I guess I took them all down on my own. Me, a week she-wolf who has been living the life of a rogue for ten years, single handedly killed eighty of your best fighters. Men who had been trained from the age of twel

He quickly kissed her before turning to disembowel another warrior. Nox switched between shouting commands at the enemies, forcing them to fall on their own swords or turn against one another, and slaughtering them with blade, claws, and teeth. Succumbing to the tug in my gut, I tore the souls out of several warriors, their flesh rotting before my very eyes. Beneath the undercurrent of stink, there was another pungent scent. One I recognized instantly. “They’ve got rogues!” My words rippled down the bond as a collective roar pierced the air. The ground beneath our feet trembled. A wave of feral rogues poured into the compound, and the chaos increased tenfold.

The other rogues saw this and began to retreat. “I never waste my words,” I say, clawing at the nearest rogue I could grab. The way I was killing them was making a circle around me. I turned and glanced at my brother. “Do you need help there?” I ask. He chuckled. "Thanks, I can manage,” he said, waving his bloody hands at me. He had just ripped the heart out of a rogue. Oh, Hercules can be brutal if he wants to be. As we fought, we kept advancing into the other side, which the rogue had occupied. Then suddenly, they began to retreat. We chased them as they ran, but unfortunately, they had been cornered. I claw my way through, leaving the dead bodies of the rogues behind me. Just then, I got

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 sounded dreamy but he was not blinking. "Look I am sorry, Mason." I looked at him. He didn't look too happy. "I'll leave here for now," he said with a pained look in his eyes. I watched him stop at the door. His gaze was sharp when he turned to look at me. "I'll give you a few more days to think about it," he was trying to suppress his anger. He was doing a good job at not killing me. I sighed as Mason left. This was the rogue king asking me to rule beside him. Did I really want to defy him? Rogues were known for being ruthless. They bowed to no one and yet here I was in a pack full of them, daring to anger their leader.