His Rogue Luna novel Chapter 13

I ripped the blankets off me, pulling out the needles in my arm and stood up. Cora just watched me with wide eyes. She looked like she was going to protest but she must have saw something in my eyes.

"I'm going to shift," she nodded and silently pointed to a pile of clothes on a nearby chair. I picked them up, storming out of the hospital and into the snowy forest.

I shifted into my wolf, tearing the hospital gown instantly. I left the fresh clothes by a tree as I sprinted through the forest, burning off my anger and stretching my muscles.

After about an hour, I had calmed down enough and trotted back to my clothes, slipping them on. A female must have donated the clothes to me. The grey sweatpants were a little tight on me, as was the pink thin strapped tank top.

Still not wanting to go back inside, I decided to walk around. The smell of pine was comforting and the snow beneath my bare feet was refreshing. I had never spent so long away from nature and those two weeks in the cell had taken a toll on me, more so than I'd like to admit.

I also hadn't meditated in a while. My emotions were getting the best of me and I found it harder to control myself.

Suddenly, I caught several scents and I could hear voices shouting and barking out orders. Intrigued, I made my way over to the sounds. The thick trees suddenly ended and gave way to a large clearing. What I saw surprised me.

Several men stood in the clearing, at least fifty of them, paired off and practicing hand to hand combat. Three figures walked around them, watching and giving pointers.

I even caught sight of a table on one end, filled with an array of silver weapons. Twenty more men stood near the tables, some sparring each other with swords and some practicing throwing daggers and axes at targets.

They were all shirtless and in shorts. Some were heavily tattooed, some with smooth skin and some heavily scarred, but all were well built and muscular, their skin gleaming with sweat.

It was quite a sight to behold and in my little daze, I failed to notice that the three figures had spotted me and were standing defensively, ready to attack.

"Who are you and what are you doing here?" The palest one spoke. His skin was fair and his hair even fairer. His eyes were an icy blue that I was quickly becoming familiar with.

Despite my perfect hearing, the distance between us was making communicating awkward so I cautiously approached them. Some of the men stopped training to watch me pass them and I caught a pair of brown eyes amongst them that looked so familiar.

Shrugging it off for now, I turned back to face the issue at hand. Stopping a couple feet in front of the three figures, I kept my body relaxed, and my mind calm, despite my instincts begging me to leave. Being surrounded by all these threats was making a part of me angsty and jittery but I pushed it away.

"I'm Artemis. I was just walking around when I stumbled across this place. I don't mean any harm," The fair one snarled at me in response.

"Bullshit, why are you not in the prisons?" He took a threatening step forward, his face twisted into an ugly snarl.

He let go and snapped his gaze to the warriors around us.

"Everybody back to training!" He yelled and they all continued as they did before.

Zane continued walking and I followed besides him, admiring the skills of all the wolves training. I could feel my fingers and toes tingles and my breath hitch. The way they moved was precise and calculated, almost like a synchronised dance. They were all swift and efficient with their tactics and it was no wonder they were one of the most feared warriors.

"Would you like to try?" The words surprised me and I turned to see Zane watching me curiously. "You look like you want to join," he pointed out.

"Yes I would, but I'm not nearly as skilled," I admitted. As a rogue, I had to learn to fight from such a young age. I was barely talking when I had to defend myself from monsters. And although I was great at it, my fighting style was very different from theirs.

My moves were more erratic and messy as most rogues were. Every rogue I fought had a different style too and I found myself adjusting my technique every time.

But I was eager to see if I could somehow take one of their fighters on.

"Come," he gestured to a clear space and began pulling off his shirt. His light tan skinned was covered in scars and had several tallies tattooed across his chest and back. I blinked at him, unsure of what he was doing.