Rogue Lineage Necromancer Novels & Stories

"The boy... he smiled at me, Cassius." The hooded rogue remained completely silent, waiting. Nyx let out a soft, bitter laugh, turning back toward the sleeping dragon. "It was profoundly annoying. He wasn't afraid of the wings. He wasn't angry about the monsters. He looked up at me through all that golden fire as if I were simply... sad." Cassius pulled back his hood, revealing his pale, scarred face. "I warned you about that bloodline, Nyx. That family is a contagion of sentimentality. They are dangerous to the design."

The sniper’s third shot went wide, hitting the steel hull of the ship with a dull clunk. I felt the energy in my palms pulse. The reactor's fire was gone, but the Blood Vow was still wide awake. It was feeding on my rage—the burning realization that my Uncle Magnus, the man who had tucked me into bed after my parents' funeral, was the one who had killed them. "Lucian, go!" I screamed. He twisted the throttle. The bike screamed, the studded tires biting into the slick hangar ramp. We launched off the edge, a second of terrifying weightlessness hanging over the dark water before the tires slammed onto a solid floe of ice.

i say in the mind link "I sense them, micheal and few more warriors are on their way to you as we speak" he answers "Ok" i say cutting the mind link as the first rogue appeared in sight I tilt my head looking at him with confusion. It's common knowledge that rogues are banished wolves who aren't apart of any pack for various reasons. Most of them go mad and become violent creatures while some are able to survive and keep their sanity, but this one before me is different. I can sense his bloodlust and i can see in his eyes there isn't a shred of humanity left yet he's doesn't give the impression of being irrational, to put it simply he's like a functioning psychopath. He smiles kindly at me b

Bruce nodded in confirmation, and I tightly held Caroline's hand as we made our way towards The HellGuard pack. When we arrived, we saw the witches trembling in agony while Marcus and his men stood over them, as if they owned the very ground they stood on. Fueled by anger, I approached them with determination. "What is all this ruckus about?" I demanded, my gaze intense. Marcus smirked in response, but his smile meant nothing to me.

He still had his blade in hand, covered in blood, he fought back, they all did however, it didn't need enough. Jon stood beside me, silent. I looked around the area, there were signs of a brutal fight, broken trees, burnt grass, blood everywhere. And in some places… the black blood of the rogues. “They didn’t stand a chance,” I said quietly. Jon nodded. “They were ambushed., probably stalked from the moment they entered the woods.” I felt anger rise in my chest, burning hot. “These weren’t normal rogues,” I said. “You saw the black blood. They were part of the cursed line, it's clear these rogues had abilities, special abilities like the shaman had said”

CRIMSON “Do you know the story of the bloody werewolf rogue that was killed by his alpha? Do you know about that rogue that was hated by all of his pack and all the other packs that no one wanted him at all? Are you familiar with the story, child?” an old woman asked me while giving me a serene smile on her lips.

I barely make a sound but just to be sure, I also activated a spell that will ensure he won’t be able to smell or sense me. At the bottom of the grand staircase, he turns right, toward the old museum annex I’d once helped design. It’s filled with relics and curiosities: swords, banners, magical artifacts, even a petrified lycan’s paw. But he doesn’t seem interested in any of those. Instead, he kneels on a display rug and removes it, showing a thick, iron-banded trapdoor that leads to the basement. He then unlocks it with a key hanging from his necklace.

The dagger feels alive in my hand, its ruby flaring as if sensing the threat. The first rogue bursts from the fog—a massive grey wolf, eyes mad with shadow corruption, silver-tipped claws extended. More follow, snarls ripping through the mist, their scents rancid with witch magic and desperation. They’re not just rogues—they’re cursed, twisted by the same shadow beast that hunts my bloodline.

"The bodies of the rogues were found in different places. This one got stabbed through the heart, the other one's neck's twisted." Luka nudged the leg of one of the rogues who remained naked, revealing him to be of a lower-class rogue who couldn't complete his transformations with clothes on from his wolf form, when he died. "There was a fight, lots of struggle. But the thing that stands out is, they were killed not by wolves, but by humans."

He painted his nails with silver. “Yes, I painted my nails silver. By the time you get the council's attention, you will be dead. That grandfather of yours is distracting the other members well. It was his idea to put wolfsbane to poison your father.” Since Charles and I are related, he was able to mind-link me. “This isn’t going to stop me. You’re nothing but a beta, is that why you killed mates? You knew someone would come along who could easily take the alpha position from you.” My voice was angry.