Artemis had not been back to the Black Stone Club in years; she had been there the first and last time with Tara when they were 16. The place was always the same and always smelled like wet dog. The thought made her smile. She regretted saying yes to that evening a second after she had done so. Tara had been very insistent, telling her that she had to meet Mayson before the Council, it would help her control her anxiety and fear. Because he was amazing and beautiful and blah blah blah.

"Tell me the truth." She asked her friend as they took their seats at the counter, "are we here because you want to see Mayson again?"

"What are you talking about?" She asked, frowning.

"You said you were together, and you haven't seen him in a month."

"You don't fall in love with every man you have s*x with, Pookie." Artemis rolled her eyes; Tara used that nickname whenever s*x was mentioned, citing her excessive innocence and inexperience. "I've tasted that cookie before. I wouldn't say no if he offered me a second bite, but we're not here for that."

Artemis shook her head, amused and embarrassed by Tara's attitude.

"Please don't leave me alone while you have fun with him."

"He will be all yours." Tara replied. Artemis blushed and began to breathe heavily.

Tara understood her friend's concern. "I can't tell you that I can empathize with you, because I don't know what it's like to be a half-blood and to grow up among people who see you as an enemy. But I love you, I know you enough to know that you don't like this situation, that you're scared and angry, that you wish you had wolf fangs to tear everyone apart." Tara took her hand.

"The packs of Texas are known to be wild and undisciplined, even before the fall of the monarchy. The Moonrivers come from a different reality. I've been to their home, I've seen how they live and how the wolves are in the pack, and I'm convinced that life there will seem like a fairy tale compared to the s*it you've had to swallow here." Tara knew all about her. She had told her about every bullying incident she had endured over the years, both at school and on the streets; she had also told her about all the times she had used magic to save herself and the times she had lost control and risked killing someone, but Tara had never been afraid of her, so she had never been afraid of Tara, even though she belonged to a race that had always despised her.

"I love you," she whispered with tears in her eyes.

"Oh stupid witchy-wolfy, I love you too," she ruffled her hair. "But don't cry, you'll ruin my masterpiece," she implied.

Tara hated makeup and "girly" things, but she had been meticulous about Artemis' makeup: she had applied a lot of mascara and curved her lashes to make her big blue eyes stand out even more; drew a cat's eye line on the upper eyelid and applied a strand of strawberry lipstick to accentuate her heart-shaped mouth. Tara persuaded Artemis to let her hair down, it was ginger beer and waist length, the ends were naturally wavy. When she was finished, she looked at her ecstatically and told her she looked like one of the porcelain dolls her grandmother kept on her bed. Creepy, but beautiful. She wasn't sure if it was a compliment.

Mayson arrived about two hours after them and noticed Artemis' presence as soon as he entered the Club. He mingled with the other werewolves, watching her from a distance as she talked and laughed with Tara.

He had seen her before, though she was unaware of it. He had visited the area many times in the past few months, and each time he had taken the time to watch over the witch.

She was always locked up in the house, intent on studying during her last semester of high school. Only once, last summer, he found her outside in the garden and was able to look at her more closely. She was sleeping on the grass, the sun shining on her face, her hair in a braid. The white top she was wearing was pulled up, exposing her hips. She had a beautiful hourglass figure with generous curves, but her belly was flat and her legs beautiful and toned. He imagined he could touch it and feel its warmth.

Mayson wondered if Artemis realized the danger she was exposing herself to, as she laid there, beautiful and innocent. Any werewolf could have attacked her. A wild wolf like him, for example, though the thoughts that entered his mind at that moment were lustful.

That night, the situation seemed similar. He studied her carefully, her prosperous breasts compressed by the tight black dress she wore, she kept adjusting her skirt, which had a dizzying slit down to mid-thigh. She looked uncomfortable.

The werewolves often turned to look at her, some with hostile glances, others with fear. Tara had told him that Artemis had never been well liked in the pack, and the tension in the air confirmed it. He would have liked to grab her and take her away without having to suffer the torment of attending the Council. Mayson hated all those former Alphas who felt important every time the Council met and puffed out their chests, convinced that their opinions really mattered. The final decision always remained with his brother, the only Alpha. And, since he already knew Jared's decision about Artemis, this waste of time irritated him.

He saw Tara get up and walk away with a broad smile. Artemis was grumpy.

Artemis was approached by Stan, a wolf who always made poisonous jokes when he passed her on the street. He was six and a half feet tall, broad-shouldered, with black hair and eyes and an idiotic face.

"Well, look who's here," he leaned against the counter, so close to her that she could smell his foul breath. "Hello little witch, are you looking for adventure tonight?"

Artemis turned to look at him, a mischievous smile on his face. "Go away," she told him.

Stan grunted. "Have you ever been with a werewolf?" he said, stroking her back. Artemis snapped and stood up.

"Don't touch me," she told him. Stan smiled at her. Artemis heard someone sitting down on the stool on the other side. She huffed irritated. "Come on beauty, one night with me before you leave forever," he grabbed her arm.

"Get off me!" she screamed.

"Hey man, she told you no. Drop the bone." Artemis turned to see who was standing up for her. Platinum hair, different colored eyes. She had no doubts.

"Don't tell me what to do, stranger," Stan growled menacingly.

"Mayson Moonriver, nice to meet you," he said as he approached and shook Stan's hand. Artemis blinked in confusion. Stan let go of her hand immediately. "Nice to meet you, my... Gamma Mayson." They shook hands for a second and Stan disappeared in a flash. The werewolves in the Club began to whisper.

Artemis returned to the stool as if nothing had happened and resumed drinking. Mayson frowned at her. He tried to reach the stool at her side, but several girls approached and surrounded him. Artemis heard them squealing in praise of Mayson, she saw one of them caress his arm, while another one whispered in his ear. Artemis rolled her eyes, feeling nauseous and not sure if it was for the alcohol.

"Sorry girls, I am busy tonight. I have important matters to discuss. Can we meet again tomorrow?" he said, escaping the attack. The girls nodded sadly and left.

"Is there a club around here where I can drink in peace without being attacked by the girls?" he asked the bartender, laughing.

The bartender poured him something, as if he already knew his taste. "Are you okay?" Mayson asked her.

Artemis had a look of disgust on her face. "I'm fine, but you, gosh, I'm sorry you poor werewolf has to be tormented by horny women. Your life must be hard," she told him. The bartender froze.

Mayson could tell by the tone of her voice that she was drunk. "I was expecting a thanks for saving you," he smiled.

"From Stan?" Artemis laughed. "I could have killed him in a second."

"Easy, baby." Artemis gave him an angry look. "Don't look at me like that, I'm here to help you."

"Did you hear that, Gamma Mayson?" she said his name, taunting him. "Barking bit*hes in heat, you should run. Your services are needed elsewhere," she said. Mayson laughed in amusement.

"I want another drink!" The bartender filled her glass.

"It's not wise to drink yourself into unconsciousness in a place full of hostile stares, don't you think?"

"I should use my last hours here to get revenge for those hostile looks, don't you think?" she replied.

"That would not be a good calling card for the Council."

"I don't care about you or your stupid Council."

"You should go home, Artemis."

"You go." The bartender paled. Mayson laughed and sipped his drink.

There was a minute's silence, and it was Mayson who broke it.

"Do you remember me?" he whispered in her ear. Artemis turned to look at him, their faces inches apart.

She nodded. "We met as children."

"I've missed you." Mayson smiled.