Rogue Linage Novels & Stories

“An army of wolves capable of wielding Moonblood abilities without needing Moonblood lineage that he could control. Most of the offsprings died either during birth or during experimentation because they had yet to figure out a way to subdue the divine magic of the Moonblooded enough to be controlled by dark corrupted magic.” Lila's fingers trembled slightly, she looked at me like she didn’t recognize me anymore. And maybe she didn’t. Maybe this version of me—the one who knew all of this and still stood beneath the Nightbane name—was impossible to separate from the monster who created it. “The ones who did survive…” I exhaled slowly. “They came at cost of so many others that died and were kep

It perfectly fits the image of the Rogue werewolf race that I have learned and heard from stories about their sudden emergence, and how they only took three years to conquer the entire Elden continent. It has been one hundred years since then, and the Rogue kingdom only continues to grow bigger and stronger that the various races of the Elden continent could only bow down and accept their tyranny. Our Celeste werewolf race, a descendant of one of the six first werewolves created by the moon god, was also one such race that could only hide in our territory in the emerald forest to follow the wills of the Rogue kingdom, whether it is about following their decrees and sending up tributes.

I moved through them the way Sera navigated the old roads. Moving with the bloodline's awareness of where the space was between them. The bloodline seemed to know the same way it had known the fracture point in the foundation corridor. The same way it knew the old language before my mind did. Sixty seconds into the northern tree the ancient rogues stopped. But this was not a submission. I looked forward,the Rogue King stood feet ahead in the forest interior. He was larger than the relay rogue. Much larger,the wrong-shaped shift that Darius described from the cell but complete rather than partial.

The rogues all gasped, and Leo was left speechless as he fixed his gaze back at his mate. “Young man, your mate is a descendant of the bloodline of the ancient witch. And I will have you know that this ancient witch in question, happens to be my sister” Leo and the rogues wheezed. *** Sonia had gone out to enjoy the peace of nature by going to the pack’s river. During the course of her stay on the shores of the river, something extra-ordinary happened. The river split into two and out of the bare of the river, three women rose to the shore and it left her trembling for she hadn’t seen anything like it before in her life.

I replied and flipped my hair. We were all done with our meal and sharing stories by the camp fire when one of the warriors, I think his name was Camie, asked " Luna. What did it feel like to be a rogue?" another warrior nudged him hard " Insensitive much?"" Oh no it's fine. It's fine" I said quickly. They kept quiet, " Well for starters, Rogues live their lives on the run most of the time. But that's more common for those who weren't part of a rogue pack, like me, although I did have one--" "--but she was banished" Felix cut in.

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.

That was the real insult. To be Alpha of a bloodline pack? That was ceremony, tradition, inheritance. But to be Alpha of rogues? That was earned through blood, death, and pain. Through breaking bones and tearing throats. Not given. Taken. A fight till death, that only the survior is chosen.

“As much as I really don't want to talk about his death right now… I can’t just ignore it. We are the Rogue people. We are strong, beautiful, and kind. We've survived situations—harsh and life-threatening ones that would have killed others that are in a pack. Over the years, we've been able to change the narrative that Rogues are more than assassins, troublemakers, or black magic wielders. So it's time you both, as our rulers, stop treating us like we are lesser than those in a pack when we are actually more. It is time you stop treating us like we are at the mercy of other packs. It is time you stop making us feel like we can't achieve anything if we don't belong to a pack when we've actual

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.

Some bloodlines operated outside pack structures completely. They weren’t called rogues at the time. That word came later, and it wasn’t meant kindly. Back then, they were just… different. Different lineages. Different ways of relating to power. Different ways of using magic. I pulled the volumes one by one and went through them carefully. I’m a methodical person. It’s probably my most reliable trait. When I search for something, I don’t let what I hope to find or what I’m afraid to find get in the way. I read. I record. I move forward.