Rogues Anthology Novels & Stories

Not far from me was Theo’s Lycan fighting three rogues at the same time. The warrior was tackling two. Seven rogues were lying dead on the ground. “ I thought they were just fifteen, so where from five?” I asked myself. “ They might have called for backup,“ Athena bellowed. I turned in time to see two rogues lunge at me and throw me off. We rolled over to dodge another incoming attack and we ambushed one with our claw as it penetrated into his chest. A painful howl tore from his lips and I tore his chest and blood gushed out. Just before I could deal with the other rogue, he was torn from my grip by a golden Lycan.

Through the haze, I see it—those massive jaws opening again, ready to tear my throat out. 'Not a fucking chance,' Zanthe roars, bursting forward. My body moves as she takes over completely, our forms blurring as she erupts from me. Her paws hit the rogue’s chest mid-leap, flipping it onto its back before her jaws close around its throat. Blood sprays as she tears it open. The world spins. My consciousness drifts somewhere behind hers as she keeps fighting, savage and precise. Rogues fall one after another, her claws flashing silver under the moon. But then something shifts—the tide slows. The rogues hesitate, their momentum faltering.

A howl sounds some distance in the front, just at the same time a group of rogues leap out of the bushes. I spring into motion immediately, all my training kicking in. I knock the first one down just before he shifts into his wolf, wrapping the wire around his neck and pulling hard. Suddenly, the clearing is a battlefield. Weapons clash against weapon, rogues fall down. I roll to the side, avoiding the snapping of fangs as a wolf lands where I stood a second ago. From the corner of my eye, I see Ragnar watching it all from the sidelines, like a messenger of death himself.

' I could feel Gidian beaming with pride at my remarks. 'Thank you, and I feel the same about you.' I had an important call to carry out to Alpha Kane of the Half Moon Pack in Russia. They had been experiencing problems with rogue attacks. So, I sent four hundred of our toughest warriors to help. Rogues are wolves who don't belong to a pack. They are treacherous and filled with bloodlust. They don't live by the rules and laws of a pack, instead, they kill as they please, both human and supernatural creatures alike.

Do not let them through! Despite the chaos, we were holding. Barely. Every time we pushed the rogues back, they surged forward again, driven by some unseen force. They weren’t fighting like wolves - they were fighting like pawns, mindless and relentless. I twisted mid-air to avoid another rogue, landing on my feet and snapping my jaws around its leg. A sickening crunch followed, and the rogue yelped, scrambling away. But there was no time to celebrate the small victory. Another wave of minions was charging, their glowing eyes a horrifying reminder of Andromeda’s dark magic.

As he screams out, I drive the dagger into his chest and he falls to the ground. In general, rogues are weaker than wolves that belong to a pack. They don't have the strength that comes from the unity of being in a pack. Wolves are social creatures, and their wolves weaken significantly without that bond to an Alpha. Many rogues are on their own for years before they join other rogues, so they weaken a great deal. However, just because these rogues are weaker, they have the upper hand right now. With just four more to go, I can feel my body becoming sluggish. All my energy sources have been depleted in the last five weeks and I'm just running on pure adrenaline at this point.

As I walk around the great room, it's obvious that certain packs in particular are missing- the Rogue packs. Instead of having different alphas for every pack, they are all run by a king who calls himself "King of the Rogues." I can't help but roll my eyes, anybody who chooses to go by that name probably has a bigger ego than Caleb. Nobody knows what he looks like since few have ever lived after encountering him, his reputation violent and messy. He never shows up to these events despite receiving the invitations. Most alphas would prefer him as a business partner rather than an enemy.

“Right there. In the open. Where everyone can see what happens when you cross me.” The phone buzzes again on the desk, another update coming in, and my pulse jumps. I grin. “Move everyone,” I say. “Tonight.” “Rules,” Lena asks. “There are none,” I say. “Only the hunt.” I picture Eli Blackwood boxed in by noise and lights and fragile lives, and my hands curl into fists. “I am not a coward,” I say softly. “And I do not care who dies learning that.”

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.

Before fear or shock could settle, the grove exploded. Rogues poured from the trees in coordinated waves—at least twenty at first, moving with the precision of hunters bred together. They were armed, marked with ritual paints and teeth sharpened by the kind of hate money can’t buy. “Fight back!” someone screamed. The sacred space dissolved into chaos. The rogues moved like soldiers, cutting through our formation with merciless efficiency. Spears and blades flashed. People fell. I rolled away from Ronan as a rogue jumped over us, his claws swiping the spot where our heads were. He fell to the ground with a loud thud in my ears.