Rogue Medieval Novels & Stories

I announce to them. And it feels ridiculous to say it out loud, but I don't know what else to say. The Rogues are gone. Cole is gone. The entire situation inside the Gala has been left behind, and yet I know that the moment we return, every single person there will want to know what happened to me, and that thought alone makes my stomach tighten. Alaric doesn't seem satisfied with my answer. "Warriors, follow them, capture the Rogue King and take as many captives as you can," he orders sharply as he turns to face his people behind him.

I glared at him and started walking away. " Ah…Wait..." I stopped walking and turned around to stare down at him. He avoided my eyes again, " Fine...I'll talk" he mumbled. Clover got off him and smiled at me, " You're welcome" she said and skipped away. I turned my gaze back to the rogue. He scratched his his head nervously, " This is so awkward and weird" he mumbled and sighed. I took the time to look at him well. He had dark hair that looked so untidy from him running his fingers through. His eyes were a light grey and his lips were pale and thin. His nose was not so pointy and his brows were on point. He should be at least 6'0 feet.

The soul-satisfying rumble of the motor made me smile as I clicked it into gear and took off down the street. Riding my bike as if I stole it, I zipped in and out of traffic until I reached the open road. The Rogues clubhouse came into view as I rounded the corner. An old abandoned bar had been converted into a clubhouse, the neon sign hung from the roof blinking off and on intermittently, buzzing as it swung in the wind. A veranda wrapped around the front, with tables and mismatched chairs placed haphazardly was a dumping place for bottles and ashtrays.

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.

All Sigmas heads are shaved monthly to take away their beauty. “Come,” he held his hand out to me. As I took his hand, sparks shot through my entire body, and in that moment, I never wanted to let go. He led me outside. We were surrounded by woods. Many people surrounded the house. They were in deep discussion with each other. Along the outskirts of the small property, I could see tents set up, some merchant tents, others with couches and beds thrown in them. Rope lights hung from the trees and pathway lights lit up walking trails from one tent to the next. There was a huge firepit in the middle. It reminded me of a gypsy’s camp.

I Arrived at the shadow-core pack’s main driveway, I got a call from Gary Saithe telling me to get my ass over here, Gary is A Vampire -werewolf hybrid known as Alpha to his band of misfit rogues that he likes to keep as pets, his pack was no laughing stock nor to be taken lightly as all pack leaders feared him but Mostly Feared the rogues that he took in as his own members - they were a different sort of breed, not just one race. But a mixture of good and bad. - I killed the Roaring engine to my black sports car and stepped out of the driver’s side straightening out my matching black suit that fitted around me so well. A lingering scent hung in the passing breeze, I took a deep breath inhal

My mother closes the mind link and stands next to my father, who checks our invites by the two Crescent Moon warriors. Rogues are wolves who have been banished or rejected from their packs. The majority of rogues are criminals; they have no rules or morals. They attack at the slightest sign of weakness, raping women and killing anyone in their path. In other words, they cause chaos and destruction.

Even the insects had fallen silent. Something was wrong. She backed away from the stream, hackles rising along her spine. Her wolf senses screamed danger, but she couldn't pinpoint the threat. Then the wind shifted, bringing with it a scent that made her blood run cold. Rogues. At least three of them, maybe more. The scent was unmistakable—unwashed bodies, madness, and the metallic tang of old blood. Rogues were wolves who'd been cast out of their packs or had chosen to leave, living without the structure and discipline of pack life. Some were harmless loners. But most descended into madness, becoming little more than feral beasts who killed for sport.

After that I dig my claws into the first rogue's face and slash out one of its eyes then I slash my claws deep into the second rogue's throat killing the rogue then I turn to the third rogue that was trying to sneak up on me. I lunge at the rogue and I bite into the rouges leg and bite down breaking the leg causing the rouge to howl in pain and while the rouge back away in pain I lunge and bite down on its throat hard until it stops moving then I back away looking around the battlefield I see that most of the rogues have been dealt with but I see one of the rogues probably the leader and flee into the forest.

I implore, my voice brimming with determination. Sage's voice takes on a measured tone as he dives into the details of the encounter. "The rogue clan was known as the Bloodfangs," he begins, his eyes scanning the surroundings as if reliving the battle. "Their members were highly skilled fighters, each marked with the tattoo of a serpent entwined with a wolf on their wrists—a symbol of their unity and cunning." "They possessed a unique agility and strength," Sage continues, his words painting a vivid picture in my mind. "Their warriors moved with grace, striking swiftly and retreating with an uncanny precision. It was as if they were one with the shadows, blending seamlessly into the night."