Scouts Regiment Novels & Stories

I envied that about him. He handed me the file. "Scouts returned this morning. You'll want to see." I flipped it open, scanning the reports. Kills along the northern ridge. Deer. Wolves. Too many. And then—the sketches. Markings burned into tree trunks, not random claw marks but symbols. Repeated. Deliberate. "They're branding our land now?" My voice came out colder than I meant. Nicole's expression didn't change. "They're organised. The rogues aren't moving like strays anymore. Our scouts swear they kept formation. Almost like... soldiers."

I hurry and get dressed in some leggings and a tank, because it's Saturday and I want to work out after breakfast. I walk into the kitchen and grab a cup of coffee before sitting with mom, dad and Nico at the table. I start filling my plate with biscuits and sausage gravy with a couple slices of bacon. I said, "So, dad, Nyla said you have some news about the rogue pack." Dad said, "The scouts finally found them. But we can't touch them." I said, "Why?" He said, "They have gone to the council to become a legitimate pack. They aren't on our territory either. We have no legal reason to go after them." I said, "That sucks. But, I guess, if they are trying to become a legitimate pack, that could

the Captain says, sneering at them like he’s told them a million times to cut it out. I wave him off, “Their group name doesn’t matter. What I want to know is, do they meet the criteria I gave you?” “Yes, sir. These nine are my best scouts. I believe they will serve you well.” “Listen up, men. Each of you will be sent to a pack in the North to scout and gather information,” I tell them, and they look up. “There are rumors and rumblings that several of the Northern Packs are whispering of rebellion. I cannot check every pack, but you eight will become an advance recon team. For the next two weeks, I want you to watch the Alphas. If you hear of or see any of them acting suspiciously, report it

Brandon asks, his eyes bouncing between me and Mason. “Yes,” I snap. “Which roster?” Mason asks. Brandon stops in front of my desk and hands each of us a stack of papers, “The list of the four scouts who will be going into the rogue king’s territory.” “Just four?” I ask, looking down at the paper. “I couldn’t get any more men to volunteer,” he answers. “Even with the promise of a higher ranking and better pay, these were the only volunteers.” “Fuck. I was hoping for a group of at least six,” Mason curses.

The wind whistled through the jagged pines like a low, mournful flute, carrying with it the scent of wet fur and iron. Three wolves crouched in the dense undergrowth of the western ridge, their forms nearly invisible against the grey shale and rotting moss. These weren't the sleek, well-fed guardians of Alex’s pack. These were North Scouts—leathery, scarred, and driven by a hunger that went beyond the stomach.

Only Kate, standing just off my shoulder, knew the truth. Camerin unrolled the assignment lists and began calling names. “First squad, eastern ridge patrol, you'll rotate in pairs, eyes sharp. Second squad, you’ll sweep the southern sector.” His voice carried like steel, calm, commanding. Micah stepped forward to reinforce. “Scouts will move ahead and report any signs of unusual movement. No straying from the assigned paths. You’ll rotate through the night. Fresh eyes every few hours.” The wolves nodded, some smirking, some flexing their claws as if eager to stretch their strength. They didn’t realize the game had already changed.

exclaimed Goldfish as they picked up their rifles. Isuzu hid down a pit as her heart started to pound fast, hoping nothing dire happens to any of them. "By order of the New British Army 31st Foot Regiment under General Foster, identify yourselves!" shouted the unidentified figures. The scouts looked at each other, then Goldfish raised his arm, "Scouts, 42nd Foot Regiment under Captain Campbell!" he shouted. "Do you have the objective?!" echoed the man in the forest. "Show yourselves first!" answered Goldfish.

Scouts shouted, their words tumbling over one another like stones rolling downhill. “Borders breached!” “Dozens of rogues—no, more!” “They’re moving like soldiers—forming ranks!” Kilian was already there, his sword gleaming in the torchlight, his presence cutting through the noise like a blade. His voice carried authority that demanded obedience. “To the borders!” he barked, and the compound surged to obey. The forest edge was aflame with snarls and steel. Rogues poured from the treeline in waves, not as scattered beasts but as a united force. Their eyes glowed with the same golden hue, their movements sharp, synchronized, terrifying. They were not rogues. They were an army.

The battle ended swiftly. One of the teams approached and saluted Arnold and the second team captain. Arnold returned the salute. “Which unit are you from?” The person responded, “We’re the South Regent’s troops. We received a message from the villagers here informing us that you were Ethan Rivers’ men, so we came as backup.” Arnold and the second team leader exchanged a look, their expressions filled with shock. The South Regent sent a team as reinforcements because he heard that they were with Ethan?

Communication signals were organized. Supplies were being redistributed strategically. This was not chaos. This was structure. One scout returned quickly to Red Hollow with a report. Lucian listened without interrupting. “They train at dusk,” the scout said. “Small units. Rotational leadership. Not random.” “And their leader?” Lucian asked. The scout hesitated. “We have not confirmed.” “But?” “There is talk. Of a woman.” Lucian’s gaze sharpened almost imperceptibly. “A woman.” “Yes, Alpha.”