His Rogue Luna novel Chapter 3

The darkest wolf stepped forward. He was heavily muscled and judging by his stance, he was clearly a high ranked member.

His muscles shook and his bones cracked before he revealed to be a behemoth of a man. His skin was pale, and his eyes a startling ice blue. His hair was long, a few silver strands woven into the golden locks.

"Shift!" His voice was deep and authoritative. It didn't phase me but I felt Conan tense besides me. I could tell he didn't like authoritative figures as it brought back traumatic memories.

I nudged him softly with my nose and he looked to me. I licked his face in a comforting manner.

"I said shift, Rogues!" The mans voice boomed and the wolves behind him growled to emphasised his words. I rolled my eyes at them but proceeded to shift.

Conan followed suit. Their eyes lingered on me for far too long to be considered polite.

"Why are you trespassing on our land?" He asked. He seemed a little less angry than before.

"We were hunting and our prey led us to your land. We didn't realise quick enough due to the fog," I explained, my voice firm but polite.

He seemed to assess me for a while, his eyes raking over me, barely sparing Conan behind me a glance.

"Shackle them and escort them to the prisons," I huffed but made no other sound of protest. I wasn't surprised. Packs really hated rogues. Mercy and kindness was never an option even on the most innocent rogues.

Conan growled and I turned to him, placing my hands in his chest to calm him. "Don't worry. I got this. Don't do anything silly. Just wait for me okay?" I whispered.

I saw four of the shifter wolves walk over towards us, holding something shiny in their gloved hands.

"Okay," he nodded. I saw the fear and uncertainty swim in his eyes and I rubbed his chest, trying to comfort him while pushing away the guilt I felt for dragging him here.

I was going to get him out this.

The four men approached us, two grabbing each of my arms while the other two grabbed Conan. They held the silver restraints and I saw the panic in his eyes. He began struggling and my heart broke for him.

"Conan please don't hurt yourself," I whispered. The men cuffed and collared him tightly just as they did with me. The collar was connected to the cuffs and was made out of silver. While the metal was soft and malleable under werewolf strength, silver was lethal and burnt werewolves if it came into contact with them.

I felt my blood boil as they shoved us both to walk. The smell of burning flesh and the pained hisses and grunts coming from Conan spiked my growing rage. I fought to remain calm, remembering Diana's words.

I would wait.

I would hide until the perfect time to hatch my plan.

We walked for what seemed like miles before I heard the sound of chatter and other sounds normally associated with large groups of people. We had arrived at the pack grounds.

Looking around, the place was beautiful. It was like a winter wonderland. Houses and homes were built like cabins with thick blankets of snow coating the ground. Icicles gleamed and glinted under the winter sun and I could see a frozen lake not too far off.

As we walked closer, conversations ceased and everyone hushed. Everyone stopped to stare, watching us with wide eyes, some disgusted, some curious.

While most of the wolves had pulled on some clothes after they shifted, we were left as naked as the day we were born. It was a humiliation tactic, though it didn't particularly bother me.

I caught several people's eyes, holding it until they broke away from my uncomfortable gaze.

We were headed to the largest building, the structure easily standing out. It was clearly the pack house. The architecture would have been better appreciated had I not been cuffed and collared like an animal.

We were shoved into the building, entering a nice foyer with a chandelier hanging from above. The force of the shove, coupled with our restrained hands meant we fell onto the ground, only just managing to stop myself from face planting.

A feral growl had me snapping my attention back to the man above me. He had his sharp canines bared, his eyes fixed on the male in my arms. I held him closer to me, hissing back at him.

"Well shit!" The loud booming voice from earlier snorted. Turning back, I saw the older male with the blonde hair from earlier in the forest. I wondered where he had gone.

He was chuckling to himself, pushing past the guards to stand besides the man above me, slapping his back loudly.

"Congratulations, Son. I thought this day would never come," he laughed. Son?

The resemblance was uncanny, the only difference being the son having black hair and more hooded eyes.

"Get her some clothes!" The older man barked, sending a nearby maid scuttling. A moment later, the maid returned with a soft cotton dress in her hands.

"Dress." The silent man commanded. Had it not been for the demanding and harsh tone behind his words, I would have appreciated how deep and smooth his voice sounded. Before I could protest, the clothing was being thrown at me. It hit me in the chest and fell on Conan's head. I quickly threw it to the side.

"I can't. I'm cuffed," I growled back.

"Fine. Send them to the prisons. Put them in separate cells!" He barked at the guards. We were pulled apart and rough hands yanked on each of my arms, dragging me through a door and down some stairs.

The smell of blood, mould and cleaning chemicals hit me and I wrinkled my nose. We were led to a dimly lit corridor with rows of cells lining each side. I heard several inmates rustling, getting up and stepping as close to the silver bars as they dared, watching us with curious eyes.

I was shoved into one and Conan was shoved into the one directly opposite mine. Our cuffs and collars were removed before the sliding door was slammed shut and locked with a loud click.

I saw Conan rub his wrists and neck before looking up at me confused.

"I promise, I'm going to get us out of here," I told him. It was my fault we were here anyways.