Warhammer 40k: Rogue Trader Romance Novels & Stories

The masked shewolf was seen jumping from one building to another. She seemed to wince slightly at every step while holding her hand. Because of that, her transformation could not be perfect. She was leery that was some kind of poison in her wound. This time, her mission failed. That shewolf is called Rae. She becomes Rogue in the last few years. Before it, Rae was the Omega of a large pack that controlled a city on the East Continent. However, her mate was betray her, he rejected Rae and made her decide to leave the pack and go to the West Continent.

At the corner of my eye, I could see the woman thanking me but I did not have that time to spare before charging at the next rogue. It was easy to tell a rogue rapport from my men. They were lanky, tattered and they reeked. There was this smell every rogue had, one that screamed betrayal, distrust and hatred. A disgusting scent. My reinforcements joined the battle seconds later, tearing through the herd of rogues. I had killed a handful of them, but my eyes were set on a certain brown furred wolf. The battle ensued until every rogue was dead. The sound of burning buildings and the weeping of women and children filled the air. Occasionally, a building or two would collapse.

Crates lined the warehouse floor, filled with weapons and supplies meant to support the joint patrols. Then the howls came. The doors burst open, and shadows poured in—wolves with eyes glowing amber, teeth bared. Rogues. But not just rogues. Aiden’s blood froze. Their jackets bore the silver Veyron crest. Julian’s words crashed back. Strange how rogues wore your insignia. Fury ignited, hot and instant. His wolf surged. Dante. The first rogue lunged. Aiden met him with a fist to the jaw, sending him sprawling into a crate. Another came low, claws raking his thigh. Pain flared, blood hot. He snarled, shoving him back.

“I’ve been waiting so very long for this moment to arrive.” “Go straight to hell,” I snarled back. He smiled like I’d said something charming. “Such fire in you, my dear. Such magnificent power running through those veins. I’ve been watching you for years.” “What are you talking about?” Dominic stepped forward, putting himself between me and the creature on the throne. “Your reconciliation, of course,” the Rogue King said pleasantly. “Your forgiveness of his betrayals, your willingness to trust him again despite everything he did to hurt you. It’s created a spiritual bond stronger than anything I could have manufactured through artificial means.”

To patients. A young warrior, his arm bandaged thickly, stiffened when he saw me. I knelt beside his bed without hesitation. “You fought bravely,” I told him. “But bravery doesn’t mean you heal alone.” His eyes filled, and he nodded. Rogue recently attacked the Red moon pack. He is one of the warriors that fight. By the time I left, exhaustion settled deep into my bones, but it was the satisfying kind. The kind that came from purpose. Damon, the warrior assigned by the elders to accompany me, remained quiet as we returned to the palace. He observed everything, reporting nothing aloud. A watcher. A judge.

“Discipline is up. Casualties down. He’s making them fight smarter, not just harder. Someone’s guiding that.” “Someone?” I arched a brow. Ronan’s mouth curved. “The reports keep mentioning a woman. Crimson Rogue. Some say she’s his lover, some say his mind. All say she’s worse than him.” “Crimson,” Samuel repeated. “As in blood.” “Her dress was soaked in it,” Abel said. “That’s the story going around. She didn’t scream when her lover died. Just stood in it and took his place.” I sat back. “So the Rogue King grows stronger, and a bloodthirsty strategist sits at his side.”

The referee came towards me and took my left hand, holding it up as the winner and I gave the crowd a bloodied smile, my eyes scanning them till they landed on Elias. He shook his head with a small smile and opened his arms as I ran towards him, hugging him. “Good job, kiddo. Undefeated, yet again,” he laughed, ruffling my hair, and I buried my face in his chest, calming myself down from the high I felt from fighting. I'm Rora, the strongest female of the Moonfang pack and I am the error. “Come on, kiddo. You need to wash off.” He pushed me back from him and stared at my form. My hair was sticking out everywhere and my braid was a mess. My clothes were dirty and my boots were stained with mu

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.

I’m considering a deal with a rogue. The thought should repulse me. He’s not just dangerous, he’s feral. Rogue's decide when to play nice, and right now he is. His kind have torn Omegas apart, shredded through trial fields like beasts. But he’s here, and the others aren’t. He’s offering what they won’t, without games, without pride. And I’m burning. My wolf is crawling toward him, not for affection, but for survival. “What’s the price?” I ask, voice barely above a whisper.

“That so?” I swallowed hard but didn’t look away. “Yes.” The rogue smirked. “Then you’re either very brave… or very stupid.” Probably both. Damien’s patience thinned. “Are you going to let us through or not?” The rogue studied him for a long moment. Then, to my surprise, he stepped aside. “Welcome to the borderlands,” he said, grinning. “Try not to get killed.” ⸻ The rogue territory was unlike anything I had ever seen.