Sting And Rogue Novels & Stories

"Just me," Greyson croaked. "You know it's the smart thing to do. There's no point in slaughtering a whole pack." "You think I care about how many people I have control over? Do you think I care about that when my mate is lying dead in my arms!" Rogue roared. He threw Greyson to the side, kicking him onto the floor. "You will all die! I will kill you all for what you have done. None of you will live to see next week." Rogue looked down at Stacey and brushed her hair away from his face, smiling down at her. "Everything I will do to this pack will be for you, my love," he whispered. "I promise, I will make them suffer." He then walked towards the woods, not looking back at the pack. "If any of

Which makes a thought come to my head and I frown. “Everything okay?” Dylan notices and asks. “How did a rogue get past your security if you so easily caught up to us?” I ask the one question that is bugging me. Rogues are wolves that have been severed from their pack link, they have a terrible and rotting stench. To be exiled, you must have done something terrible and unforgivable. Not all rogues are bad since some are exiled because they lose control to their wolf, mostly when their mate dies.They usually travel alone,

What in the name of the moon goddess would EVER possess him to take drugs? Storm shrugged. “It’s not his fault. Not really.” “Then who’s fault is it?” Ugh! Storm was so frustrating right now. I just wanted a clear answer. “Mine,” Storm said, fixing me with his eyes. And then, Storm told me the story. “It was rough at first,” he said. “We couldn’t find our place in rogue territory. No one wanted us around. We were exiles, but I guess gammas are really hated in the rogue world. We holed up in a few cheap hotels. We tried to find work. But no one would hire us. So….I started gambling.”

I teased, prompting an exaggerated gasp from him. “How did you dig up my secret?” he feigned shock, hand placed dramatically over his heart. Their departure left me with thoughts as I retreated to my office. I needed to ensure everything was in place. Tala summoned me urgently to the southern border, where an unsettling scene unfolded. “What's happening?” I queried as I approached, joining Tala and a group of enforcers circled another lifeless rogue. “Another dead rogue,” Tala stated grimly. I got closer, my attention drawn to the familiar marks on the neck, similar to the previous full moon's victim. Only that this time it was two not one victim.

I was born a rogue, and now I’m about to become a slave. Rogues, if captured, are sold as slaves to the packs. It’s their cruel way of getting back at us for leaving in the first place. If we won’t be a part of their packs as a member, well, then we will be forced to be slaves if captured. It’s cruel, but rogues have no justice in this world. The silver chains burn my wrist and ankles. My inner right forearm stings from the R that has been burned onto it to indicate that I’m now a rogue slave. It will heal, but the silver causes it to heal slowly. I will forever be marked as a slave.

The rogues attacked in a vicious, starving wave. Taylon met them head-on. He was a force of absolute destruction, his massive jaws snapping bone and tearing through the feral wolves with a brutal, merciless efficiency. Ronan was a lethal dancer of blades, his silver knives flashing in the moonlight as he sliced through any rogue foolish enough to lunge towards the SUV.

"Alpha, we have a visual on a transport. Southeast quadrant. Sending the link." Logan hissed a curse and signaled the pilot to dive. In the field, I had given up hope. I stared at the grey sky, hearing the distant, rhythmic thumping of rotors. "I'm going to break you," the rogue whispered, unbuckling his heavy belt to bind my wrists. Before the buckle could click, a shadow fell over us. A hand reached down, grabbed the rogue by the shoulder, and hurled him twenty feet across the field like a rag doll.

"We caught him and we need you to come with us." My frustration slowly faded into anger as I heard the word "rogue." Those damn rogues were always causing trouble, and it was my job as Alpha to take care of them. I quickly followed Michael out to where the rogue was being held. As soon as I saw the rogue, my blood boiled. He was struggling as they tied him up, his eyes wild with fear and desperation. But I felt no sympathy for him. He was a danger to our pack and he needed to be locked up.

“Before I make you.” The Rogue, however, wasn’t perturbed. He chuckled again, revealing two missing bottom teeth. His sinewy neck, tanned and leathered from days spent in the sun, was covered in faded tattoos. “Oh, really, princess?” he snarled. “Wanna bet?” “Yeah. I’ll bet.” In an instant, we were on each other. But while the Rogue’s movements were erratic and out of balance, I found my feet firmly planted in a fighting stance, my fists raised, my body easily maneuvering around the Rogue’s punches.

Untamed. Just like him. I can see a certain kind of wildness in his eyes, and I know instantly that he is a Rogue. He has an edge to him, a wild, dangerous, unpredictable edge. As he stares back at me I notice a moment of confusion. It's like he realized it, too, at the same moment, that maybe…I am his mate. The connection is undeniable. But he quickly shakes it off and gives me a confused look. "Are you a spy?" he asks. "Did they send you to find me?"