Rogues Anthology Novels & Stories

The scenery couldn’t be worst, the gold diggers transform themselves and two others drew knives, coming to us, enraged, by listening Geffrey say: “They are looters, they came to steal your gold, attack them.” Uncle Ronan turns his head back his appearance distorted and howls, transforming himself in a gray scary mortal wolf, going after Geffrey who was running down the road. The bullets whirred everywhere and the gold diggers grouped themselves to attack us. Far away, uncle Quinn enters a knife fight with two gold diggers, hitting them not giving a chance to escape, but the other is able to sink a knife in his thigh. When getting ready for a second blow on uncle Quinn’s ribs, Adam hits him w

Seven threateningly huge Rogues had walked into the camp and they were walking straight to my warriors. They looked like the seven Rogue leaders I had described before and they radiated strength with their every stride. But they didn’t scare me. Size didn’t matter in the Werewolf games. I looked back at the Chicken Rogue and he was still smiling. “Look.” He directed my gaze back to the seven muscly Rogues. Two of my warriors were dashing towards the Rogues now but then one of the Rogues caught them and within some dreadful seconds, my warriors were thrown stiffly to the ground, blood-stained, bones fractured and maimed.

I told her. “I am really sorry and didn't plan to hurt you intentionally, I will go for now because I know you are angry and you need time to digest all this” with that she stood up and left too. Rogues: are werewolves that have either been kicked out of their pack or left on their own free will. Rogues don't have a set appearance apart from in their wolf form, they have long fur. They also have a bad odour radiating from their bodies. Rogues can be good or bad. In some cases they are the reason for deaths. And they can return to their pack if they are allowed.

"Rogues are werewolves expelled from their pack or who have chosen to leave. Their disheveled fur and foul scent, reminiscent of rotten eggs, signal their feral nature, marked by red eyes. They often behave more like animals than humans, driven by primal instincts, and typically do not work well together. Rogues can be good or evil; some kill out of revenge, while others act on wild urges. Good rogues seek independence and do not wish to harm others, mainly known as lone wolves. They do not want trouble with anyone." She questioned further, “If they don’t band, how did they coordinate an attack like yesterday?” "Our trackers are on it. We have also increased our warriors on pack lines," Alex

Lucius asks and we all look at Fenrir, considering he was the expert. “The Pure Rogues have last time I checked. 2,000 strong. These rogues have never been defeated. They move like shadows, the ultimate assassins. They never get involved in pack disputes. I’m surprised you didn’t notice when you four were training at Silver Moon.” He says and I look at them and they furrow their eyebrows.

I refuse. Enzo wouldn't hurt anyone. He wouldn't, he couldn't. "Welcome new recruits to the Hunter's association. Welcome all to the Archane order." My uncle finishes, driving another dart into my already discombobulated psych. "We are all excited to begin your new chapter with us. " Dammit, what rabbit hole have I fallen into?

“They must have followed our trail. We have to leave, now.” “Rogues? How many?” I asked, panic rising in my chest. I looked around the tent and saw shadows moving outside. How did they find us? I wondered, my thoughts reeling back to Alex’s earlier warning. Did he know we were going to be ambushed tonight? Kai’s voice cut through my thoughts before I could think about the possibility any further. "There are too many to count. We need to get out of here fast,” he replied. I felt a surge of panic, my mind racing a million miles. Rogues were the worst kind of wolves. They were the ones who had abandoned their packs and leadership to live and hunt by their own twisted rules.

John Even the most courageous men would have been terrified by the terrible symphony of sounds that erupted from the rogues' huge clamoring after I had protected her. There were cries, moans, and growls among the many voices. Their goal was blood. I was, too. They had a rotten stench, wild and untamed, like charred skin and decay. I was aware. This was no haphazard ambush. Rogues never coordinated, moved in unison, or operated as a pack. Rogues existed for a purpose.

"Not one of the ones we killed, I take it?" Hunter shook his head. “No. Must’ve been the one that got away. But this one,"—he gestured at the nearly unconscious rogue—" said enough to know his look. Tall. Brown hair, a scar running from the chin down the neck.” Claw… The rogues were typically disorganized, scattered, and lesser in number. They didn't have the guts to attack established packs. But now? Now they were coordinated, working together. And for what? For who?

he sighed, “Well, they were criminals…” I mumbled, “Rogues, darlings are not always criminals. My parents were rogue vampires for a while. A rogue is a person who is not in a pack or into society; it does not mean they committed a crime,” he sighed, and I squinted my eyebrows. “Are any of those guys the case?” I asked, and he took a deep breath. “No, two of them attacked a pack and killed several warriors, and the other one robbed a shop and killed the owner,” he said, and I took a deep breath.