Rogue Lineage Mga Nobela at Kwento

Arthur had felt their presence like an instinct he couldn’t explain. “I… I tried to stop them.” But it had been too late. They would never abandon their comrades to their deaths. All Arthur could do was go after them and try to kill as many rogues as he could. Didn’t know how many rogues there were, but he knew that the patrol members would be in trouble. They fought fiercely, ripping and tearing through the rogues in practiced patterns. A rogue was only at an advantage against one werewolf because rogues were fierce and irrational beasts. Against teams of three, a rogue lost the advantage of being unpredictable as the three werewolves could cooperate.

I bit down on my lip, unable to confess that his enemy was the only reason I was still here, still fighting to remain by his side. A look of disappointment, profound and bitter, passed over him, reading my silence as an immediate confirmation that I was working with the Rogue. “It’s about my lineage,” I finally confessed, grasping the nearest half-truth. “I spoke to him once here, when I was alone, and he told me he knew of my family line.” I looked him straight in the eye, pleading for his belief. “He offered to help me discover it. With all the uncertainty, I was just desperate to know.”

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”

Rogues typically avoided events that hosted a high number of Alphas for the obvious reason. “Is their motivation money?” I ask Reid and John. “I don’t believe it is money, Kate, I think it is the recognition of ruining the event and the success with the alliance member,” Reid says. John adds, “If money is a motivation, it’s secondary. Most rogues want a reprieve from the rogue life.”. “Agreed, but once they start down that path it is almost impossible to be redeemed unless they are early on in their rogue experience,” I say. “Some have managed to come back from it, Kate. I remember a rogue named Lincoln who came back from being a rogue here about ten years ago. He did die helping to pr

So when a rogue somehow managed to appear right next to the evacuation line, chaos ensued. Unlike other Werewolves or Lycans, the rogues were more monstrous. They were completely covered in hair and beast-looking the image they presented was vile. Rogues were no different from actual wild and deranged wolves. They basically had no humanity in them and all that was left was wild beastial instinct. Rogues usually didn’t band together, and although they might appear in succession or scattered groups, they were not the type to actively cooperate—especially if the group didn’t seem to have a leader.

There was blood everywhere. Blood of my people. I turned to Andrea who was painting from trying to keep up with my haste. “Get a good amount of Generals from the Arena Garrison. These Rogues are stronger than the usual ones. Go!” I instructed, watching one of the Barbaric Rogues rip someone’s leg off. Andrea rushed away. I rushed towards the Rogue and he saw me and lunged at me. I caught his arm and uprooted it from his shoulder joint in a pull. “That’s for taking out his leg.”

I wasn’t trying to get too close so I stayed where I was. “Human..” He said in a creepy way and ran his tongue over his lips. From what I know, rogues are cursed wolves and they do not have special abilities equivalent to actual wolves but are equally dangerous.. but good thing about them.. you don’t need silver to kill them. “Do you have some?” I asked since he wasn’t saying anything but looking at me like a prey. My heart beat loudly for a moment there but I had to keep my composure and focus.

I barely twisted in time, pain tearing through my already injured side as I drove my elbow down into its spine. The comm crackled uselessly. They weren’t letting me go. Every attempt to thin our line was punished instantly, rogues surging into the gap with brutal efficiency. If I pulled too many warriors back now, the line would collapse—and then there would be nothing between the rogues and the heart of Silver Fang at all. They knew it. They were counting on it. My wolf roared, furious and afraid in equal measure. I could feel my control slipping, rage threatening to drown strategy entirely.

The gold pulsing beneath my skin. And slowly – slowly – the tide began to turn. The rogues hesitated. Our line held. Then pushed forward. A roar split through the clearing. The rogue leader stood near the tree line – massive, broad-shouldered, an ugly scar carving through one side of his face. Fury twisted his expression as he looked over the fallen bodies surrounding him. “Fall back!” he thundered. For one terrible second, I thought it was a trick. But the rogues began retreating.

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.