Rouge The Bat Fanart Novels & Stories

My phone buzzed. Unknown. A still from the stool take. My face turned. Oil. Zane’s mouth. Then a second still. The blackout. My knuckle. Teeth. Then text. Sunrise auction. Private room. Couple as a set or clips as singles. Reply if you want to buy your own skin back. Zane took the phone. He typed one word. No. The typing dots came back immediately. Then the old pack will see the uncut stool at dawn. Harlan hates being the last to watch.

None dared to speak. “Next,” a gruff voice called. A hand shoved her forward. Charollet stumbled up the steps of the platform, blinking under the glare of torchlight. A hush fell over the crowd of bidders. “Lot Forty-Seven,” the announcer declared. “Nineteen years. Rogue-raised. Never shifted. Suspected human. Untouched.” A collective murmur passed through the crowd. Some scoffed. Others leaned forward in interest. Charollet kept her eyes down, jaw clenched.

“It’s pulling from inside the protected zone. Not from her outer rings.” I feel that in my chest. A low hum. Interest. “Zoom the signature,” I say. He does. The grid flares again. Not smooth. Not controlled. Jagged. Spiking and dipping like a heart that can’t find rhythm. I laugh under my breath. “That’s not her.” “No,” Carter agrees quietly. “It’s not.” I lower the scope. Dawn is bleeding into the sky now. Pale pink. Soft. Almost pretty. “You see that instability?” I ask.

My heart is pounding in my ears and I can't even hear my own thoughts clearly. This was a bad idea. A bad idea. "Hunt," I said softly, rubbing my thumb against his hand. "I don't know what to say," he said. "So now you're with the rogues and you believe everything they say." "Hunt, I think they can help me. I'm not saying I believe them. They said they aren't the only rogues in the area. They just stuck together because they are hybrid and they've been kicked out from their old packs."

The kind of place where bad things happened and nobody asked questions. The basement entrance was hidden behind a dumpster. I knocked twice, my wolf tense and ready to fight. A slot opened in the door. Eyes stared out at me. "Password," a rough voice demanded. "Nightshade." The door opened. A massive Rogue stood there, easily seven feet tall. Scars covered his face and arms. He looked me up and down like I was an insect. "You're the Tracker," he said. "I'm Aria." "Same thing." He stepped aside. "Boss is waiting. Downstairs. Last door on the left."

The man is always snapping at someone. Harold smirks at him in reply before turning to Lydia, “What pack did you come from?” “What part of not your concern do you not understand?” Gray tells him. “Besides you should not be asking that kind of question,” Ray speaks up. “What, is it touchy topic for rogues or something?” Harold asks. “Are you not a rogue?” Lydia asks. Harold laughs, “Me, no I’m just really good friends with this asshole. I guess you can call me a rogue supporter or a rogue by association.”

"Is that all you have?" The crowd loved it. I could hear them cheering my name, shouting encouragement, whistling through their fingers. But I could also hear the other stuff. The quiet stuff. The mutters that people thought I could not hear. "Eight years without a Luna. The pack is getting restless." "He is powerful, but imagine how much stronger he would be with a mate." "They say he does not even look anymore. Just gave up." I bit back a snarl that had nothing to do with the fight. The three wolves were getting back to their feet, shaking off the dirt and regrouping. Good. I needed to hit something.

He was trying to tease her but she wasn't smiling. "It's not Lady Eustace I'm fond of." Horatia got to her feet, not seeming to notice the rip in her gown near the shoulder. The silver fabric sagged off her left shoulder, exposing part of the creamy mound of her breast. Lucien silently begged for the gown to drop farther. Would her nipple be a soft peach, or a sweet berry red? He ached to know its taste, to explore that nipple with his mouth, his tongue. Would she like to be laved, bitten or sucked on? All of these questions suddenly seemed vital. He had to know the answers. Lucien whimpered in protest when Horatia tugged the ripped sleeve back up, hiding that taunting bosom from him.

He steals the carton to put it back in his bag. She snatches the carton of milk from his hands, "It's mine now. For being annoying." "You just took the milk for me, does that mean you accept?" Khai gasps, Aster's stomach whirling against her will. "Ten-ten-tenen, ten-ten-tenen~" Rhiane hums the Bridal Chorus. "I'm so happy I could cry." He sniffs and wipes fake tears. "Rhiane, what the hell!" Aster's face was so red it could rival the apple on her tray.

Rica smiled politely. When they settled, Angel went off to the east side with Arwel to play the adrenaline game they were talking about. It was just a simple game of the number of hunting prey. And whoever gets the most numbers will be the winner. Then, rogues came out to cause a ruckus but the Reeves cousins were already on their move. “Damn, I’ve got five here.” Marius clicked his tongue when he killed the last rogue on his side. “Yahoo, I’ve finally got eight this time.” Tiffania chuckled when she informed that and it was making Marius and Lincon whined.