Rogue Mc Novels & Stories

She’d taken them down so expertly that I wondered how she got into the situation in the first place, how they’d managed to ambush her. I thought about stories I’d heard about rogues. There were known to wreak havoc among packs. If she was a typical rogue then I could see how that would be. No wonder pack leaders usually hated them. So much so that if an alpha or luna crossed paths with one, their first instinct would be to kill. I thought about what this meant for my mate, and how my mother would take it. Would my mother try to kill my mate? Of course, I couldn’t let anything happen to her.

"I can not do that." "It's an order," I said coldly, and without giving Marcus a chance to say no, I stepped on the accelerator and shot straight out into the street like an arrow. Unbelievably, one day, someone like me would think for others. I'm putting the interests of a Rogue Pack ahead of my own, which I never thought of before. When I gathered the Rogues and founded the Blood Moon, it was only for the sake of revenge. From the beginning, I was in the mood to use them to fight as a tool, but now I consider it a family.

"If you don't reject him, I'll have to declare him a rogue and banish him from this pack. We don't need him here." "You can't do that father. He is your subject! You can't maltreat your pack members for no reason! That will be outrageous!" I yelled. I couldn't believe my ears. Being declared a rogue was the worst thing that could happen to a werewolf — aside from being rejected. A rogue was an outlaw, one without a pack. He was sent out of his home to roam about the deadly forest alone. Rogues were helpless wolves without the protection of an alpha and they were open to any attack whatsoever

I was a broken girl and now I was being sold out like furniture by my own father. Engines roared in the distance. Three black trucks rolled into the clearing, dust kicking up behind them. They stopped in a half circle and the doors opened. Rogues poured out of the truck at least a dozen. They looked big, scarred, and moved like predators, not like pack wolves with their rules and hierarchy. These looked like they'd kill you for breathing wrong. Then he stepped out; Ryder Blackwood. I'd heard the stories my whole life. The Rogue Alpha who controlled half the lawless territories, built his empire on violence and even killed his own fated mate.

He says. "Yeah, no shit sherlock. What the hell is the problem?" I asked. "Is Alpha Jackson there?" He asked. "No. Otherwise I would have already put him on to talk to you, you asshole. Do you really think I want to be talking to you?" I asked. "Well, my name is Michael. We are having trouble with Rogues. They are attacking more often." He says. So I grabbed the appropriate notebook. "Alright. Call the packs in Montana. There's three packs there that are close enough to give you assistance. And they are bigger than yours. They will have warriors to spare. Until you have the rogue situation under control." I say.

∆JULIAN’s POV∆ "Bring out the wine for our honored guest, you useless piece of trash!" Rook’s roar cut through the hallway. He was the manager of this club, which belonged to Alpha Blake’s Frost Pack. "Coming! You pathetic weakling who can't even get hard without alcohol!" I muttered under my breath. I kept my voice low so no one in the corridor could hear me. I held the cold glass bottle with both hands, my palms slippery as I moved fast down the hallway. One million dollars. That was what Rook kept bragging this red wine was worth. To me, it was one million reasons for Rook to peel my skin off if I dropped it.

"We brought a solution, but the palace does not want to embrace this solution. Well, maybe until it gets to a point of regret before they realise." Martin was about to say something else when they started hearing chaos in the training ground. The three brothers exchanged glances, and without wasting another second, they all rushed out of the room to see what was going on. Martin gasped when he saw that his pack was under attack again. The three brothers immediately grew their claws and jumped into the battlefield. This was the first time Martin would fight against the rogues together with his brothers. He didn't need a sword or a dagger. He grew his claws and his fangs and entered the battl

As allies and friends, we help each other when needed, and today, Michael needed our help. Rogues aren't pleasant to deal with. They are wolves that have either been kicked out or left on their own will. A wolf without a pack is a rogue, and they're dangerous. The longer you remain rogue, the more likely you’ll become wild and feral, and once that happens, you lose yourself and your humanity. The stronger rogues like to band together and attack packs. And today it looked like they chose Michael's pack. Thankfully, we're not far, and within 30 minutes of our arrival, we had his packs secured.

"Are you just going to stand there in the dark and continue to watch me?" "I am. I have to make sure my mate doesn't run away." "I won't run away." "Do you really expect me to trust you?" "How can we mates if you don't trust me?" "You have a lot to learn, little one," Luca chuckled. "The first rule of being a rogue is to not trust anyone." "You all sound miserable." "I can assure you we're not. If anything, it's you and your people who are the ones who are miserable. We have something that none of y'all have."

His gaze holds mine for several seconds before he looks down at his drink. I chew the inside of my cheek while wondering if I should start asking him questions about his time as the King of the Rogues. Everyone knows the history, of course. The Roguelands was… nothing back then. A deep, dark forest. Dark enough to hide in. Dark enough to disappear in. He gathered an army there out of misfits, bandits, and slaves. He ruled as king when there wasn’t anyone to rule. He overthrew an evil regime with forces whose training was nothing more than a life of survival in the same forest I’ve called home for so long. He understands. He’s still the king there, in some shape or form… at least, until Maeve