Rogue Squadron Novels Novels & Stories

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.

Nothing gave away the identity. My fingers hovered over the spine, then unsuccessfully I tried to read it but I could read one word. ‘Rogue’ My hand froze. Rogues? The memory of those rogues in the ruins flashed in my mind. Was this book about rogues? Who were they? Why were they… Then suddenly a voice came like smoke against my ear. “You like touching things that don’t belong to you?” I gasped, spine stiffening, heart leaping into my throat. His scent hit me first—stormy, rich, dangerous.

Chapter 27: The Tides of Battle Rogue Alpha’s POV The scent of blood, sweat, and fear mingled in the air as the battle raged around me. The ground beneath my paws shook with every blow, every strike, as the chaos of war enveloped us. My pack, the rogues who had followed me for years, were in their element. They were fast, ruthless, and eager to tear down everything in their path. The Alpha bloodline that had ruled this territory for so long—Alpha Callum’s pack—was crumbling. It was only a matter of time before we wiped them out completely.

"Theo, come over here. Read this section over, would you?" I took the book from him, taking a seat across from him and leaning back into the plush of my chair as I read the writing on the page. Before long I felt my own brow furrow and my lips turn down as I registered what I was reading. The writer was telling of attacks, Rogue attacks, circling town for months and growing increasingly close. They talked about fires staring without warning, of the whole of their borders coated in flame. I thought back to the fire I had seen blazing in the distance the night I came upon Alpha Rhodes. I thought of the movie night, of the whisperings amongst the warriors about the attacks growing nearer to the

Seb was right, The moment I neared the place I already knew I was almost there, their scent was horrible, they smelt like death and sorrow, that's what all rogues smell like after either they desert their pack or were sent away. There were lots of rogues but we had the upper hand, I saw one of my warriors struggling with three rogues at once and I went to help him, I leaped and landed behind one of these bastards, I bite his leg and he yelped in pain, I flung him and be cracked his arm as he landed on it. Without giving him any chance to react I went for a easy kill, the neck, I want this over as soon as possible, I bite his neck and he howled in agony.

A Rogue. A Rogue is a werewolf without a pack. They often kill any werewolf they encounter; may it be a member of a pack or a similar rogue, like them. They are vicious plunderers. And that same vicious plunderer is right in front of me, deviously smiling. “Others cannot dodge my attack so easily like that. You’re quite good, pup.” He praised me, but I don’t feel good that he did so at all. I’m scared. “W-who are you, Mister?” I tried to sound brave, but aside from stuttering, my voice also cracked.

But the pain she expected never came, and she opened her eyes in surprise when she heard yet another growl; a different baritone this time… What the hell? Slowly, Olivia turned around to see her mate pouncing on a naked man with wild hair and an even wilder look in his reddish brown eyes. For a moment, she felt her shoulders sagging in relief at the thought that he wasn’t attacking her after all. But then, the newcomer’s pungent scent hit her nose, and she wondered how she hadn’t felt it until now. From his wild looks and scent, the guy was a rogue. With little to no human morals left in them, rogues were the most dangerous, rivaling the power of alphas. A rogue had invaded her home just lik

{Revna’s POV} ~ In The Space Of A Few Days ~ Power is loud when it is first born. It shouts. It boasts. It spills blood too quickly and mistakes noise for dominance. I did not allow that mistake. By the second night after the ruins and Scrotes bowed to me, I stripped the camp of chaos. The Rogues had spread themselves across the broken outpost like scavengers— fires everywhere, voices raised, and laughter too sharp, too careless. They thought themselves victorious simply because they had chosen a name and knelt once.

The Rogue whimpered as he laid on the ground, the brick cracked behind him from the impact, before he went limp. That was two Rogues… But there had been three. I spun around then to see that the final Rogue, a smaller and scrappier one, was hungrily sniffing at Moana. A low, thunderous growl rumbled in my throat as I stalked closer to him. At the same time, a loud lightning strike lit up the sky. The Rogue slowly lifted his head, his dopey eyes shifting back and forth. When he realized that he was the only one left and that his leader was possibly even dead, he quickly turned tail and ran like a coward without even a moment of hesitation.

Or which ones are opportunistic enough to take advantage of the unrest. Is it Alpha Dennis of the Ironclaw? Or is it the arrogant meathead Alpha Stefan? My fists clench into tight fists. “Who?” I demand. “Which packs attacked?” Clyde looks up from his tablet, his face tight with unease. “That’s the thing,” he says. “This wasn’t the work of packs either. The attackers… they were Rogues.” I freeze. Rogues? Rogue wolves are the scum of our kind—vagabonds stripped of pack, Alpha, and allegiance. Most of them are expelled for unforgivable crimes: murder, rape, treason. Others run to escape judgment, hoping to disappear into obscurity rather than face a sentence.