Sting And Rogue Novels & Stories

I ask again, still so confused as to how he is able to be here with other rogues. Not only did he get past our borders and into the dance, but they don’t smell like rogues at all. It is like I couldn’t smell his scent until he wanted me to. Even with me now being able to smell him, there is no trace of rogue smell at all. “Let’s just say I have a few friends on the inside.” He drops his face to my neck, kissing it and I inhale sharply. “Why are you doing this Shane? You know I am mated, and engaged now. Why keep this charade up?”

“I appreciate that, handsome. But it’s something I have to do as Mayor. I’ll meet up with you shortly. Jeremy is giving orders to go to all ends of our borders. I have visiting Alphas and Betas here as well. I need to inform them to be prepared. I tried to tell them to let us handle this issue but they are proud men and want to help. So I won't say no. I made sure all the pack was safe before I made my way to the border where Colby and Dane were standing.. This is where the majority of rogues were gathered. Snarling. Chomping their jaws at us. The smell of feral rogues is one of rotten and matted fur. Of wolves who don't groom. Born rogues, and rogues who leave their packs willingly don't ha

" I cut him off with a cough. Their attention was turned to me, " who is this?" Blondie asked " she's the rogue we just caught dumbass" sadist answered irritatedly. Blondie's eyes widened " the rogue is a 'she'?"" Yes fool! I told you through the mind link" sadist said fustratedly.

It might not be necessary to shift, and it will be much easier to fight if I’m not wearing a dress. As soon as I’m dressed, I step outside and immediately hear a snarl. I turn to the left and there is a brown rogue wolf stalking towards me. You can always identify the rogues because they look mangey and deranged, like a dog who’s been abused and beaten. His fur is filthy, with a few patches missing, and he smells like vulture vomit. The combination of death and decay mixed with the burning, acidic scent of vomit is the worst possible combination.

One of the rogues is coming up behind him with a silver knife. Nyx roars, leaps, and then stands in front of the rogue, growling menacingly. “No one touches my family,” she said darkly. She jumped on the rogue and had him on his back. She wasted no time and ripped his head off. Rodrigo’s maw looked, and his eyes went wide. I turned to look at the area and saw that Rodrigo had the only rogue left alive. Nyx jumped and landed behind the rogue, knocking him unconscious. “That bastard stays alive until we question him,” she ordered.

“I can smell it ..." Rogue? ***

“We took all of our orders from Sterning. We never met the King once. We don’t even know if the King is a man or a woman. You caught Sterning…You should ask Sterning these questions!” The fight between Damien and Sterning was life or death. Damien did not have any time to interrogate Sterning before killing him. And with Sterning dropping died, nobody knew who the Rogue King was, not even these rogues. How clever. “Please…let me go,” the rogue begged Aurora. “I told you everything that I know. No one is around. They won’t know if you set me free—”

With one snap of his jaws, the rogue’s throat was gone. Nyx and the other warriors swarmed the rest of the men. It was a bloodbath. The rogues were outnumbered and outmatched by the elite Silverstone guard. Storm, sensing the distraction, gathered the last bit of strength in his body. Even with a broken leg and a shot foot, he slammed his forehead into the nose of the man holding his right arm. The rogue stumbled back, clutching his face, and Storm collapsed to the ground, rolling away from Juno’s line of fire.

Atlas’s massive form becomes a wall of fury as he leaps over a fallen pillar to shield me, his claws rending a rogue’s throat in a spray of dark crimson. ​I swing the dagger at a third attacker. Its torso ignites in blinding silver light, the rogue crumpling in a cloud of ash with a dying screech that echoes off the ancient oaks. The dagger’s wrath is lethal, tied directly to my blood—a guardian, just as the visions promised. Aria’s growl is a triumphant blaze that makes my veins sing. ​The remaining rogues hesitate, fear flickering in their compelled, crimson eyes. But then, a low, unnatural horn echoes from the ridges.

Unlike my mother, his eyes were dry. "This is a mistake," he said simply. "Maybe." "The Rogue King will use you." "Like Dalton did?" He flinched. "That's different." "How?" "Dalton loved you, in his way. The Rogue King isn't capable of love." "Good. Love seems overrated anyway." I tried to pass, but he blocked me. "If you leave, you can never come back." "I know." "The Alpha will declare you rogue. Every pack in the territory will be your enemy."