Rogues Of Hell Novels & Stories

By the time I realized that he might be going toward the wrong way, he was already too far gone and there was nothing I could do to stop him at that time since I did not have a better active plan. Okay here is the thing, among the vile creatures that you do not want to cross, rouges topped my list. Apart from being just animals with no human instinct, they were wild and could do anything to get what they wanted. We fight to win and if we don't, we retreat and try again next time. Rogues have no "next time" in their dictionary. They fight until the last animal stands and would do all they can to win. They are wild, rough, and with the first instinct to just "kill".

“I mean, we know rogues can get that big, but it’s not something we usually see, especially this far south from Arcterra.” “What do you mean?” she asked. “Rogues are… They’re people who have been cut off from the moon goddess, normally criminals. Doing that cuts them off from her magic, the stuff our wolves need to live,” he explained. “It has… Some really bad effects.” Peggy nodded, but her stomach churned. “Oh… Yeah, you said there were people at the camp…” she said, finally letting that sink in. “I… I didn’t think they could become something like that, though.”

But he grabbed my chin, holding me still, his thumb brushing over my lips. “Evelyn,” his voice was raspy. I said nothing. I was soaked between my legs. Just then, the screen lowered, and the driver called out to the back, “Alpha Asher, are you okay?” “What’s going on?” Asher asked, his eyes still locked on me. “A group of rogues blocked the road! Looks like they’re trying to rob us!” Rogues—those who had been exiled from their packs, drifting between territories, living on theft and ambush. They were a serious problem. Back in the Emerald Howl Pack, I often went with Eason to hunt them down.

I wasn’t trying to get too close so I stayed where I was. “Human..” He said in a creepy way and ran his tongue over his lips. From what I know, rogues are cursed wolves and they do not have special abilities equivalent to actual wolves but are equally dangerous.. but good thing about them.. you don’t need silver to kill them. “Do you have some?” I asked since he wasn’t saying anything but looking at me like a prey. My heart beat loudly for a moment there but I had to keep my composure and focus.

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.

“I went down the rabbit hole hours ago. Everything sounds crazy and yet so logical. I can’t tell what’s sane and what’s not anymore. I just don’t want anyone screaming at me or getting violent.” Robert gave a frustrated and exasperated sigh. “I assure you both. Whatever is happening here it’s escalating, and we can’t allow it to harm either of you. This is a situation I never planned to be in. But basically this is the calm before a war breaks out. I’m stuck trying to figure out who our enemy is still.” “Question. What are rogues?” “Rogue or rogue pack. Wolf shifters who don’t have a pack or are in a territory they have no right to be in. A rogue pack is a pack who steps into the territory o

Not when the pack needed me. “Who?” I asked, my voice steady despite the fear gnawing at the edges of my mind. “The ones who will stop at nothing to take you down,” he said, his gaze locked on the horizon, where dark shapes began to emerge from the trees. “The rogues. They’ve been waiting for this moment.” Rogues. The word sent a chill through me. They were outcasts, wolves who had been cast aside, abandoned by their packs, or gone rogue for reasons I couldn’t even begin to understand. But one thing was clear: they would stop at nothing to claim my power.

The smell of blood and fear was overpowering. I tried to pull away from Alpha Lance and Alpha Ryan, but they only tightened their grip on me. I felt like a helpless animal, caught in a trap. And then, as if from nowhere, a group of rogues appeared. They were snarling and growling, their eyes filled with malice. I knew then that I was truly in danger. The rogues were a sight to behold. They were unlike anything I had ever seen before. Their eyes glinted with a fierce intensity, and their fur was matted with blood and dirt. They moved with a deadly grace, like predators stalking their prey.

Their lifeless eyes, the primal ferocity, the way they moved like shadows with no soul… They were rogues. I swallowed hard. “I… I don’t understand. Aren’t rogues supposed to be… bad?” My voice wavered. “Yes,” Damian replied, his expression grim. “Rogues are feral, consumed by bloodlust. They attack without reason, driven by primal instincts. Worst of all, they lose their human form.” His words hit me like a blow to the chest. My heart thundered, a storm of disbelief and fear. “What?” I gasped.

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.