Rogue Mc Novels & Stories

“You slept for so long that I began to worry you would never wake up.” “How long was it?” I rasp, my voice hoarse from a combination of disuse and lack of water. “Five days,” the man responds. “Who are you?” I interrupt before he can continue. “Ah. Of course. Where are my manners? I forgot to introduce myself. I am Clay Denvo. The king of the rogues,” he says as he gestures widely with his arms. “I didn’t know that the rogues have a leader,” I respond coolly.

Gross, this guy just does not give up. Spinning on my toes, I turn and look the rogue in the eyes. Anger is coursing through me at this point, and I am sure that my eyes are glowing silver. "I told you to get lost," I growl at him. He takes a step back from my growl and he stares at me. "Well, well, well. You don’t smell like a wolf," he says sniffing my hair.

Squinting my eyes, I tried to decipher the text. As I read the characters, I silently cursed. I was fluent in numerous languages, including Greek. And the words MADCREST PRIDE were tattooed on the man's neck in Greek characters. The Werewolf Council has given the go-ahead to pursue MADCREST PRIDE—a pack of rogues. Rogues are werewolves who have either been expelled from their pack or fled of their own free will. Being a lone wolf for an extended period of time without a pack drives them insane, but a hundred years ago, rouges discovered a means to extend their lives by forming their own pack. Due to the conflict between the initial leaders of the rogues and werewolves, which ultimately led t

His eyes gleam as they catch the light—golden, almost feral, reflecting the moon like a predator watching its prey. His chiseled jaw is shadowed with stubble, his dark hair tousled, wild. A black turtleneck clings to his sculpted body, revealing the strength beneath. He looks like trouble. "Who are you?" I demand fists clenched. "A rogue, like you," he says smoothly. "What are you doing here? This is dangerous territory." "Then why are you here?" I snap, backing up. I’ve heard the stories. Rogues have no rules. No loyalties.

he says. Taking a step toward the door, the rogue smiles as he studies everyone in the room. “Alright, I can see you want to do these things the hard way,” the rogue muses. “I guess I am left with one option. I will challenge you for Maddie,” he says smugly. “I won’t accept a challenge that takes away the Moon Goddess’s gift to me,” Drake says. “Well, if you forfeit the challenge, then I win. Isn’t that right Alpha Kate?” the rogue coyly drags Kate into the mix. Drake looks at Kate as she considers what the rogue has said.

My eyes almost popped out of their sockets. "I didn't mean to be rude but interrupting your special day and staining the dress of your beautiful bride. It's just that it's been a while since I saw you. Jackson Will Smith. The bravest and fastest. They've praised you rather frequently for being known as a rogue that made his own pack. You're notorious to us, just as we're to you." He asked with a scornful look. He shifted his gaze to mine and smiled ruefully.

The new quarterly mafia summit arrived as scheduled. This time, it was held at our famiglia estate, which had been outfitted with hidden sentries and surveillance. One by one, representatives from the major families arrived, their eyes sharp and wary as they scanned their surroundings. I wore a black suit with my famiglia's crest pinned to my chest and walked in side by side with Matteo. The bruises from training were still visible on my face, yet they did nothing to diminish my presence. If anything, they made me look even more ruthless.

DRAKE I was pacing, my hand running through my hair again and again as I waited for him. The stupid rogue, I had heard what he had done and it left me wondering if I'm cursed or something because why do I have to get the strongest people to do my dirty work for me. I never expected this from him. The rogue entered as if he were the owner of the place. Boots covered in dirt, a torn shirt blood still dripping from his hands and that expression in his eyes. Wild and looking hungry and looking dangerous.

I suppose that I won’t know unless I meet him, so here we go. Placing my helmet on top of my motorcycle, I walk inside and can already catch the unknown scent of Rogues inside. I round the corner and spot him immediately; how could I fucking not? He’s tall, with a broad build that lets me know he’s fought for his position; he has dark hair, short and faded and long on top with the piercing blue eyes of a Rogue. Not only that but there’s a scent of True Alpha on him. This actually makes me want to know his story.

I challenged him. He said nothing and I knew that I had won this round. We sneaked in a couple of minutes ago and I couldn’t believe that all the rumors had been true—all of it. Organized Rogue packs mostly dabbled in narcotics, prostitution, and gambling. Throughout various packs—in the darkness, the Rogues ran them all with great skill and experience and I surmised that they spread their power to the rest of the other regions using this place as their headquarters. Whatever they majored in were doing better than ever. There were reports that demand for crystalline had skyrocketed. Profit was sky high. And with what little information I had, I knew that they had a percentage of every bit so