Twisting Blades Rogue Build Novels & Stories

The rogue only smirks wider, undeterred by the cold energy we radiate. "And what makes you think I'll tell you anything?" Without another word, Cameron lunges forward and grabs the rogue by his collar, his nails digging into flesh. I follow suit, using my claws to slice shallow marks across the rogue's arm, not enough to be lethal, but enough to hurt. The rogue winces but chuckles. "That all you got?" My eyes lock onto Cameron's, and we share a silent agreement. This needs to escalate. Using a specialized silver blade—a substance deadly to werewolves—I make a calculated cut across the rogue's thigh. He roars in pain but still, he only laughs, his eyes filled with madness.

Some witches are friends who teach us how to safeguard our pack from another magic user who brings disease and misery to every region. I heard a loud snarl as a rogue werewolf charged at me, but I managed to duck and target his neck. I'm still in wolf shape, so I'm ten times stronger. Rogue appeared from every nook and cranny of the woodland. They were in human forms, and their blades are made of silver, but the handle was made of wood, so they are unaffected by it. I am correct; they are being controlled by someone. This was concerning, especially given how lethal they have become.

While others relied on the primal strength of their wolves, I had forged my reputation with blood and skill. It was with these weapons that I built the Rogue Dominion—a pack born from outcasts, deserters, and the feral, united under my iron rule. I approached the central rack, where my most trusted weapons awaited me. First, my sword—a masterpiece of black steel, its blade engraved with runes that glowed faintly in the dim light. The hilt was wrapped in dark leather, worn smooth from years of use. This blade had tasted the blood of countless foes and had never once failed me.

A blade swung toward my ribs. I twisted aside, grabbing the rogue’s wrist and wrenching his arm sideways. The weapon clattered to the ground as my elbow slammed into his throat. He fell choking. Another wolf shifted mid-charge, fur bursting through skin as his body lengthened and twisted. The transformation happened in seconds. Too slow. My boot struck his knee before the shift completed. The joint buckled with a sickening snap, sending him crashing face-first into the pavement. Someone shouted behind me. A Frostbite warrior surged past, tackling another rogue into a burning vehicle. The explosion of sparks lit the air between us.

“Not that it’s not all true but—” I grin. “Anyway,” she takes a deep breath, as if she allows herself to get distracted only that far. “This is where it becomes really freaky, you know.” My spine straightens at the word ‘freaky.’ “Tell me.” “Well, she said that in the next hour or so, you’ll have visitors who will create wards to protect Mystical Grove. That after all the disruptive weather fluctuations and that freak storm that just happened earlier in the evening today, the possibility that some… not-so-good elements have discovered there’s an unknown but powerful Warlock here. And that if you’re discovered while still untrained about your powers—we don’t even know what powers you actually

To bad he would not be able to help me escape, he must be loyal to his Alpha or he would be kicked out of the pack and end up turning rogue. Which meant no leader and other packs kill rogue on sight due to their lawlessness and no loyalty. They are like rodents eating your vegetables in the garden. No one liked rogues. Funny enough that is what I was, my brother and parents. We had to leave our pack behind because of Alpha Keeram, many packs feared him. Unfortunately mine was one of them, my Alpha Jake feared him so much so, that he was going to hand me over like a present. That's why we had no other choice but to go rogue and hide.

A shiver travelled through my down my back. "That's about the same time the attacks started getting worse," he told me. "Why do you think you're a rogue? Do you even know what they are?" I felt the tears burn the back of my eyes as I knotted my fingers together in my lap. "My old pack told me that the only title I'd ever be worthy of is a rogue." "You're nothing like the rogue werewolves." Hunt sounded so reassuring and when I looked at him, his eyes were warm and kind.

I put what I am doing to the side and gestured for him to take a seat. "Owen, I need to talk to you about something. I do not want you to take offense, but it's about rogues." I nod. Rogues often give packs trouble; somehow, I am an exception. Probably because I attempt to communicate with the wolf packs and live on neutral territory, it probably also helps that they come to my club. "I am not sure what help I can be," I don't associate with many wolves, other than those who work or are members of the club.

He was fighting the rogue off him still, and though he was getting a few good hits in, I knew it was taking everything inside of him to remain on his feet. And then… I saw it. The fraction of a second where Warren’s footing slips on the damp earth. It was all the rogue needed, and I could tell from the look in his dark and stormy eyes that he wasn’t going to pass up the opportunity. The moment Leopold was at his weakest position, the rogue lunged. I moved before I could think better of it. I grabbed one of the discarded training blades from the ground and drove forward with everything I had. The world narrowed to a single point of focus as I slammed into the creature's side, burying the blad

I screamed as I cut another rogue down. The Blackstone warriors are using their gifts to restrain the rogues with vines and cut each one down. Others are sending blasts their way and causing them to snap their spines against trees, and then I see Aiden pummeling through the sea of rogues that are trying to overtake Ironclaw.