Tails Rouge Novels & Stories

AUSTIN _____ the moon, that cold bitch, hung fat and silver in the cavern’s artificial sky, its light painting the Great Clearing in shades of bone and ash. Perfect. A fitting backdrop for a slaughter. The pack was a restless sea of shadows and fear, their scent a cloying mix of anxiety and morbid curiosity. They’d come to see a show, the ignorant bastards . They were about to get one. Roric stood on the rock platform, trying to look like an Alpha. He just looked like a pig in a too-tight tunic, sweat already beading on his brow despite the cavern’s chill.

“Rouge... harder, please—” I panicked. I needed to get out. I took a shaky step backward, my hand reaching for the doorknob. Rouge stopped. He froze completely mid-thrust, his thick, rigid length still buried deep inside his woman. The woman looked confused. Slowly, terrifyingly, Rouge turned his head over his scarred shoulder. His eyes weren't silver. They weren't icy blue. They were a burning, lethal crimson. The moment his gaze locked onto mine, I felt that again, I am in danger...

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.

I corrected myself. "I don't know again, but he looks like a goon to me.", Richard joked again. "I mean, his neck and hands are filled with various types of tattoos. I'm sure he would have those all body his chest where I didn't want to go. Aaron looks like a badass guy and too intense to me, who doesn't take shit from others." 'Well, generally rouges are like that only, who doesn't take shit from others. They think themselves as highly as if they are above Alpha.'

She raised a claw to finish it off when another rogue jumped at her, knocking her off the wolf. Nora whimpered, falling to a side, leaving her ribs bruised and bleeding. Of course, rogues travelled in twos. The new rogue crouched beside the fallen rogue, sniffing it and checking if it was still alive. Nora saw her blood on a couple of fallen leaves and growled, charging at the newcomer. She gave it no breathing space as she took it down, swiping at its neck with renewed energy and anger. When it tried to howl for help, she ripped out its vocal cord and the rogue went still. Returning to the initial one, it was barely alive and struggling to get away.

Far across the city, in the fog-wrapped forests that bordered the outskirts, a man ran on four limbs—barefoot and shirtless—toward the circle of cabins hidden within the pines. He shifted as he entered the clearing, bones snapping, muscles rearranging until he stood tall again, panting and human. Inside the largest cabin, seated before a roaring fire, was a man with golden eyes. Radiating dominance, power, and age, the Rogue Alpha didn’t move as the scout knelt before him. “She’s attending the gala, Alpha.” The golden-eyed man finally turned his head. His gaze was ancient and dangerous. “Elaina Rivers?” “Yes. She received the invitation this morning.”

I knew the Rogue was still out there, but my attention has been absorbed by Lyla. The shadow ahead resolves into tawny fur streaked with crimson. It’s Liam, turning toward me, his muzzle glistens pink. Took you long enough. He doesn’t need vocal cords to sound like a prick. I snap at his flank. Status. Rogue took down Jax near the falls. His hackles rise when I growl. Still breathing when we found him. Cassie’s doing damage control. Copper stench floods my sinuses. Fresh blood. The wrongness curdles the air like spoiled milk.

I blew a breath, a little annoyed that they were interrupting me while trying to work out my frustrations. “Rogue go take a break.” Tala waves her personal guard off. Rogue frowns and shakes his head. “Uh – uh.” Tala whips around, giving Rogue the stink eye. “Seriously? Lyric is not a threat to me!” Throwing her hands on her hips she glares at Rogue. “Fine!” He says throwing his hands up in the air. I will watch through the window and leave you alone.” Tala’s aqua eyes soften at the big guy, and she gives him a satisfied smile, brushing back a loose strand of her bright red hair. “Thank you, Fergus.”

Her eyes are pale silver, sharp as broken glass. "Looking for Nate," “Ah,” I murmur. “Look who finally decided to show.” Ralor whistles low. “Well, damn. Who’s that?” The rogues near the entrance perk up. A few elbow each other, smirking. One of them called Tug, a particularly dumb rogue with more biceps than brains gets up and confidently saunters toward her. She doesn’t even glance at him. “Hey, sweetheart,” Tug says, reaching out like he’s entitled to her skin. “Why don’t you sit on my lap and I’ll show you what a real rogue can—”

He was smart enough to realize he couldn’t take us all alone. The winds from Gus picked up and I watched on as small tornado formed throughout the trees, picking up rogues and throwing them. I saw roots and vines growing up from nowhere, wrapping around rogue’s legs and throats and knocking them out. But the more fearsome thing I saw, was when the first rogue went up in flames. The flames were neon orange, and contained to one rogue at a time. Despite the heavy rain from my mate, these flames persisted until the rogue died and then moved on to another rogue. I made a mental note not to piss off my mate’s father.