Twisting Blades Rogue Build Novels & Stories

My hand flashed to my sheath, pulling free my poisoned blade. I threw it. The knife sliced through the air, sinking deep into his shoulder, tearing a bloody path through his fur. His howl of rage sent shivers down my spine, and then, he charged. "My King, you have to shift! Now!" Warriors screamed, voices desperate and frantic. They rushed forward, but the rogues were too fast. I had underestimated them. The impact knocked the wind out of me. The rogue’s claws tore through my skin, his fangs ripping into my shoulder.

He was an element of nature, a storm of teeth and claws. The rogue never had a chance. All he had time to do was raise his sword before Blaze descended on him, his teeth sunk deep in his throat, his claws tearing through his breast. There was the gory, wet ripping of skin and crunching of bone. The rogue's cries were muffled, cut short by a gurgle as he hit the ground, his blood a warm, wet stain on the grass.

The clearing erupted into chaos. Toren met him first, blades clashing. Another warrior moved to flank, but the rogue twisted with feral speed, claws raking across armor. I darted in, catching the rogue’s arm before it could strike again. Pain flared across my palm as his claws scraped, but I held on, twisting hard. He hissed, snapping at my face. I ducked, slammed my knee into his ribs, and shoved him off-balance. The others surged forward, blades carving shallow cuts, herding him into the circle.

"The blade was cheap." "Everything we have is cheap because we are rogues." I pointed to the map. "The Moonshine Pack is close. Their weapons storage is here, on the eastern edge of their territory. Light guard. Easy in and out." "The Moonshine Pack?" Nessa raised her eyebrows. "Lila, that pack is responsible for royal security. They are not some small border pack we can push around." "I know what they are. But we are not fighting them. We are sneaking in, grabbing what we need, and leaving. Simple."

His blade flashed silver through the darkness so fast Lyra barely saw it. The rogue lunged. Kael met it head-on. The sound of impact shook the room violently. The Bloodfang crashed into the wall with enough force to crack stone, but it recovered instantly and attacked again with terrifying speed. Lyra stumbled backward as claws tore through furniture like paper. Kael dodged smoothly and drove the silver blade deep into the rogue’s shoulder. The creature screamed. Black blood splattered across the floor. But instead of weakening— The rogue laughed. Actually laughed. A horrible sound.

Such betrayal, but what would you expect from a rogue. Never trust a rogue.

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.

“Is that the reason you remove them from the pack?” Thrumming my fingers on my desk, I made an annoyed grunt and said, “Vaewolf are rogue and don't assimilate to a pack. They follow their own rules and follow their own drum beats. Now enough about them. Go train with the guards and take your pal Nathan, or go to the village bar and have a drink,” I stated. As he stood, he smiled. “So Nathan's cool because he is just a vampire and you don't want to share your good liquor.”

Pain screams through my side as the blade grazes me. But I don’t fall. I roar. Shadow roars with me. The rogue stumbles back, his eyes wide with fear before my fist crushes into his jaw, and he crumples like a broken branch. Zev takes out two more, spinning and growling, his face streaked with blood. I tackle one trying to run, dragging him down, my claws ripping into his thigh before my elbow smashes into his temple. The last one stares at us—realizing too late that we are not prey.

The blade sliced into his shoulder, and he howled in rage, his claws swiping blindly at me. I barely dodged, the rogue’s claws grazing my side, tearing through fabric and skin. Pain seared through me, but I didn’t falter. I couldn’t. The rogue recovered quickly, snarling, blood dripping from his wound. He was faster now, more desperate. He lunged, claws aiming for my throat, but I rolled beneath him, my dagger flashing again as I stabbed upward into his ribcage. The rogue yelped, stumbling back, his eyes wild with pain and fury.