Rogue Waves Book Novels & Stories

I let out quietly, and suddenly I feel him growl deeply into my neck before he begins kissing my neck slowly, his grip tightening around my body as I feel him tense. "Mine..." He lets out with a low groan, his tone possessive as he keeps me closer to him. I press my lips together and force myself to breathe normally, but I don't manage it. I bring my hands to his chest in an attempt to push him away, but I only find myself pulling him closer. I can't believe this is happening to me right now. Cole Drakov is the Rogue King... and here he is... having me pinned against a tree as he kisses my neck and claims me as his... and the worst part is...

They were dark and beautiful to watch as they surfaced and then dove, only to reappear farther away sometime later. The winds began to increase slightly, and the waves responded by crashing a little heavier on the shore. One precise wave caught Yvayn’s attention. It was larger than the others, which was not that uncommon, but this one seemed strange to him and at a different angle from the others. He had watched waves for so long, over so many seasons that his keen eye knew something about this wave was different. It began to rise and then crest. His eyes caught what appeared to him as faces in the wave near the top. He rubbed his eyes and looked again but he was sure that was what he saw.

Ethan Los Angeles hit me like a wave. Not the gentle kind you feel at the beach—the slow, rolling kind that rocks you to sleep. No, this was a rogue wave, the kind that comes out of nowhere and knocks you off your feet, tumbles you under, leaves you gasping for air and wondering which way is up.

But that girl was dead. Zane shifted beside me, his massive wolf form a wall of black fur and muscle. The rogues and rebel pack members formed defensive lines, but I could see the fear in their eyes. We were like farmers facing soldiers. Omegas facing warriors. Jamie stood to my left, trembling but holding his ground. His courage steadied something inside me.

Another Rogue. Only that this one has no smell.

She raised a claw to finish it off when another rogue jumped at her, knocking her off the wolf. Nora whimpered, falling to a side, leaving her ribs bruised and bleeding. Of course, rogues travelled in twos. The new rogue crouched beside the fallen rogue, sniffing it and checking if it was still alive. Nora saw her blood on a couple of fallen leaves and growled, charging at the newcomer. She gave it no breathing space as she took it down, swiping at its neck with renewed energy and anger. When it tried to howl for help, she ripped out its vocal cord and the rogue went still. Returning to the initial one, it was barely alive and struggling to get away.

But here, in this ragged group of outcasts and survivors, I'd found something I'd never had before. Purpose. "I choose you," I said quietly. "All of you. I'm not running." Kael smiled—small but genuine. "Good. Because we need you, Selene. More than you know." “Why do you keep saying that?” I asked. “I’m untrained. I’m unstable. Right now, I’m more danger than help.” He was quiet for a long moment, his expression thoughtful. “I’ve been a rogue for years,” he said finally. “I’ve watched wolves fight, survive, and fall apart. I know what strength looks like. I know what fear looks like. And I know what potential looks like.”

The sea stretched out dark and restless under the twilight sky, waves crashing against the shore with low, angry roars. I spun around, eyes wild. “Zara!” No answer. The beach was empty. But the drag marks continued straight to the water’s edge and disappeared into the wet sand where the tide was coming in. My chest tightened. I staggered forward, scanning the dark water desperately. The waves rolled in, black and merciless. Then, just as my eyes adjusted to the dim light, I saw it. A flash of white fabric, billowing under the surface like a ghost, sinking slowly before disappearing beneath a breaking wave

"I heard there's a place two states over that takes in rogues. That doesn't ask questions. I've been walking for six days." "Heard from who?" "Wolves talk. Especially the ones running from something. Word gets passed hand to hand, garage to garage, whoever's willing to say it out loud." He looks at Wells's arm, still close to his throat, then at me, like he's trying to work out which of us actually decides what happens to him. "I didn't come to cause trouble. I came because I didn't have anywhere else left to walk to." I believe him. I believe him the way I believed Piper the first night she stood in the bay door with her arms wrapped around herself, and Wells must see something in my face,

No, the smashing noise was far too loud—protruding rocks, perhaps. The grand entrance was followed by the grand exit. Smirking, the redheaded huntress saluted the pack, “Goodbye, boys.” She quickly gathered the two rogues and jumped off the ledge. Although death was unavoidable, she had faith in her crazy ass plan because none of them was impaled by the rocks. Instead, the waves overwhelmed them and pushed them down the surface. They coughed heavily and swam to the shore after emerging from the saltwater. “You’re insane,” remarked the smaller rogue to her.