Twisting Blades Rogue Build Novels & Stories

The air was warm and natural, and it seemed as though many had heard, yet none would speak of it as they appeared to have considered it natural. Two days passed since tears had filled eyes and fear had gripped many at their weakest points. And unto the next day, what had happened at night had become a thing of the past as the smiles on faces sprang up out of sorrows of hearts. It seemed as though they had all adapted to the regular torture and torments of a rogued beast as such, evident in the rapid refurbishing of the damaged environments. The phantom's nature was specially chaos, that was knowledge known to all men and child. And its footprints were the massive destruction which could neve

Another was already closing in, its eyes gleaming with bloodlust. Scrambling to my feet, I held my ground this time, swinging my blade in a tight arc as the rogue lunged. The edge sliced into its shoulder, but its momentum slammed into me anyway, and we tumbled again. I barely managed to keep my grip on the blade as its snapping jaws came dangerously close to my throat. With a surge of desperation, I kicked it off me, sending it crashing into a nearby tree. It whimpered but didn’t stay down for long.

I turn around and survey the battlefield and I see six rogues attacking Conrad at once four from the front and three from behind and he's strong because of his Alpha blood but he still has his limits the most he could fight at once is four, so I rush towards Conrad and intercept the three that are attacking from behind. The first rogue launches onto my back while the second one bites my leg causing me to yelp in pain and the third one tries to bite my neck, but I shake of the rogue on my back and slash my claws on the face of the second rogue then I jump out of the way of the third rouge. After that I dig my claws into the first rogue's face and slash out one of its eyes then I slash my claw

Damien's wolf flipped the rogue all over, tearing his sharp fangs into the rogue's neck. The rogue flipped Damien over with his hind legs, the rogue shifted right that moment, tearing into him. The rogue covered Damien's wolf, I looked around with trembling hands spotting a branch at the side, I took it stabbing the rogue with it. The rogue lets out a low guttural sound turning to face me, his eyes glowing red. The rogue howled loudly, sending chills down my spine. My heart pounded in my chest, my breath hitched in my throat. It was coming for me. Run.

She and Vanessa looked so much alike that no one would doubt she was twenty-two. She paused near the treeline and watched the city before her. This was where she had always wanted to be. Jessica shifted and quickly dressed in dark-wash tight jeans, black high-heeled boots that hit the middle of her knee, and a low-cut black blouse that left little to the imagination. The fabric was just sheer enough to let a hint of her lace bra peek through. Jessica fluffed her long blonde hair with her hands and applied more makeup than she could ever remember wearing. She loved the look; her parents would hate it, and that was just what she wanted.

The curved blade in my hand caught the rogue's weapon mid swing and redirected it into the dirt. The rogue turned to me with wild yellow eyes. He was bigger than me. Taller. Heavier. His teeth were bared and his breath was hot and rancid. He lunged. I sidestepped and drove my blade across his ribs. He howled and staggered. I did not give him time to recover. I pivoted and slashed again. This time across his chest. He dropped. The wounded soldier stared up at me with wide eyes. "Who are—"

After the tournament, the betrayal? Rune was a storm at my side, his hair as bright as his blade when he cleaved three rogues to pieces in a tornado of accuracy beneath the sinking sun. One (black hair in long braids, feral eyes) lunged at him with curved blades but he caught her wrist and twisted until the bones snapped. Frost encrusted his fingers, unnaturally cold filling the area from where he touched her which caused her strikes to become slow and sluggish.

I used the momentum of its jump to slide under its belly, slicing upward with the blade. The rogue let out a wet, gurgling sound and collapsed into the snow. I turned to see Killian. He was a whirlwind of steel and fur, his blades cutting through the other two rogues with a brutal efficiency. He moved with a grace that was terrifying to watch, his body a weapon of pure Alpha power. But there were more coming. Five, ten, twenty. They were pouring out of the caves like a black tide. "There’s too many!" I shouted, backing up toward the cliff wall.

They had barely urged the horses forward when the wind shifted… and with it, something primal settled over the land. We all felt it. A growl, low and thunderous, rumbled through the air like a storm on the horizon. Every warrior froze. I turned in my saddle, already tensing, and then I saw him. A rogue stepped out from the edge of the brush. No, not just any rogue. He was massive. Towering, muscle stacked on muscle, with scars crisscrossing his body like war tattoos. His fur was a deep rust color, almost black in places, and his eyes—cold, ancient, soulless—locked onto Thorne.

I grinded my teeth together, I needed to end this, I had to end this, reaching down, I pulled the sword from the sheath at my waist. The silver blade gleamed under the dim light. The rogues hesitated for just a second, but it was all I needed at this crucial moment. With a swift movement, I swung the sword, slicing through the air. The rogue closest to me yelped as the blade grazed his arm, forcing him to retreat. The others shifted uneasily. “Still think this will be easy?” I growled, blood dripping down my side. The leader of the rogues, the one who had spoken first, narrowed his eyes. “You’re bleeding, Beta. You can’t last much longer.”