Mayson had lost count of how many times Artemis had filled her glass.

"More!" she asked the bartender, her face flushed.

Mayson put a hand on her glass. "Enough," he whispered to her. He glanced at the bartender, who turned away.

"We saw each other eleven years ago, for a few days. I doubt you missed me," she said nervously.

"What do you remember of your time with us?"

"Just that you were all very kind."

"Did Tara tell you that I asked her to bring you here?"

Artemis looked startled. "Apparently Tara started lying to me from the moment you approached," the blush on her face deepened.

"I needed to talk to you before the Council, but I didn't expect to find you in this condition." He said, bothered.

"Leave me alone, go daddy someone else." She said, annoyed.

"Does it seem like a coincidence that we came all the way to Texas?" he ignored her jibe.

"You go everywhere, don't you? I heard you had affiliated packs in Tennessee too, and a coven of witches cut them in half last month."

"We didn't have time to train them, they were recently annexed," he said with a sad look.

"So you are saviors?"

"We are werewolves, we watch the backs of others of our kind."

"And those who are not of your kind, what happens to them?"

"Artemis, you don't have to fear us."

Screams and the sound of a table breaking interrupted their conversation. "Tara!" shouted Artemis as she ran off.

Tara had landed between the remains of a wooden table, one arm bleeding. A huge man grabbed her by the silver dress and pulled her towards him, laughing. Artemis approached, "Let her go!" she slapped the man who, surprised by the blow, let go of Tara; Artemis used her powers to send him flying across the room. More wolves growled and approached.

"Enough!" thundered Mayson. Artemis was shaken by the sound of his voice. "Get back to your fun and your drinking." They exchanged glances. "Gamma..." one of them bowed his head. The annexation had not yet been made official, but Lance Rufus' pack already seemed to recognize the Moonrivers' authority.

"Tara, are you all right?" she tried to lift her, but a retching forced her away. She threw up on the floor of the club.

"Are you?" Tara asked worriedly.

Mayson helped them both to their feet and escorted them to the bathroom.

"What happened?" asked Artemis as she closed the door.

"The guy wanted to have s*x with me. I told him no, and then he started calling me a 'witch-fu***r'." Tara washed off all the blood, her wound was already healing and the effect of the alcohol was wearing off. The advantages of being a werewolf. Artemis, on the other hand, was a half-blood, she didn't have the werewolves' luck; she ran off to vomit in the toilet again.

"How much did you drink?"

"You left me alone, I had to pass the time." She said as she washed her face.

"I could see you were in very good company."

"Yes, about that. You're a liar!"

Tara rolled her eyes. "He told you we were on for tonight, did he?"

"Yeah, he told me, he was more honest than you."

"After I told him how scared and angry you were about the whole situation, he told me he wanted to talk to you and explain things he couldn't tell you at the Council."

"You reported me?"

"Reported you? What are you talking about? He was just worried about you. This says a lot about him."

"About you, too" and she came out of the bathroom, bumped into Mayson, and smacked her nose against his chest.

"I'm taking you home," he motioned for his men to leave.

On the way, they all remained silent. Artemis was sitting in the back seat, her eyes fixed out of the window, but she could feel Mayson's eyes frequently moving to the mirror to check on her. "I'll drive you home first," he said to Tara.

Artemis gave Tara a pleading look from the mirror. The friend realized she did not want to be left alone with Mayson.

"Take us to Mis' house. I'll keep her company. She doesn't look well."

"Mis?" He laughed. "I like it," he winked at her.

"That nickname can only be used by my friends," she said huffy.

Mayson got out of the car with them and followed. Artemis gave Tara a questioning look.

He opened the door and motioned for his men to enter. "A little security check," he said with a smile. It was his job, after all; Gamma was responsible for training the soldiers in a pack, but also for the safety of the Alpha and the pack in general.

"You can come in," he said after a few minutes.

"Why don't you come in, we'll offer you something," Tara said; Artemis looked at her incredulously.

"Bingo! I knew Uncle Pete had some good stuff hidden away," Tara pulled out an old scotch. She took two glasses and placed them on the small coffee table in front of the sofa; Mayson sat in an armchair. Artemis threw herself onto the sofa and lay down.

"My head hurts," she complained.

"That's strange! Halving a club's alcohol reserves does not normally have this effect," Tara replied ironically.

Mayson prepared two joints and handed one to Tara. "You're the best boss in the world." They laughed. Artemis sighed.

Tara sat down on the couch, moved Artemis' legs and placed her on her lap.

Mayson watched as her skirt slid down, exposing her thigh. He shifted his gaze to her face and was grateful that she had washed off her make-up. Now he could see the freckles on her cheeks. Artemis met his gaze and he smiled at her. "You shouldn't cover those," he pointed at her freckles, "they're beautiful."

"My make-up has turned her into a masterpiece," Tara defended.

"She doesn't need make-up," he savored the scotch.

Artemis examined him carefully; the dim lights of the club had not allowed her to admire him at his best. He was different, of course, from how she remembered him. She remembered him with the sweet features and chubby face typical of children. He now had the same pronounced facial features and the same square jaw as his older brother. His mouth was fleshy, and his nose was perfectly straight. His platinum hair was shaved on the sides and long in the middle in a top knot that he wore slicked back, leaving his face free. His eyes were as stunning as she remembered them; the blue eye was icy, giving him a pure Nordic look; the other was bright green. Mayson looked into her eyes for a few moments. Artemis lowered her eyes to focus on his tattooed right hand. The fingers were completely black, there were no designs, instead there was a rose on the back of the hand, surmounted by a wolf's head that covered the entire wrist to the middle of the forearm. Above it was a full moon. Mayson smiled at her.

"Do you like what you see?" he asked her with a wink. Artemis blushed slightly. She turned on her belly.

"So, Mayson. What are the plans for tomorrow?" asked Tara, feeling the embarrassment in the air.

"We're leaving right after the Council meeting."

"Should I come with the suitcase, then?"

"You have to ask Mis. If she accepts the agreement, you will leave with us."

"As if I have a choice," she said with her voice muffled in her pillow.

"You do. You can even say no tomorrow and stay here."

She turned to look at him confused. "Uncle Pete made it clear to me that I have no say in the matter."

"The Alpha decides. The Alpha says you can choose." he smiled. Tara stiffened.

Artemis sank her face back into the pillow. "I have no choice, because if I refuse, the people here will hate me even more and surely try to kill me. So clever of your brother to give me a false choice."

Mayson laughed. "How can I blame you," he told her.

They both finished the joints. "I'll give the order to bake cinnamon cookies for you every day, do you still like them?" Artemis did not answer.

"She loves cinnamon cookies. The cooks..." Tara shook Artemis. "Yeah...exciting. Can't wait to get on that plane." She replied ironically.

"We traveled by private family jet. You will travel with us."

"The cooks and the private jet..." Tara whispered to Artemis.

"Stop it," she said as she rose to her seat, "Can you explain to me the point of this stupid Council? Your brother has already decided; I have practically no say in the matter. What will they ask me tomorrow?"

"They will list the terms of the agreement. You will have to accept them. And you're right. The Council is a stupid thing, but it helps keep the pack together." Mayson stretched out in his chair, stretching his legs and sighing. He was six feet and a half, as tall as any male werewolf she knew.

"You're exhausted, huh? How many trips have you made in the last month?" Tara asked.

"I've lost count," he closed his eyes.

"You should stay here and sleep, you're tired from traveling." Artemis glared at her.

"One of my men can drive," Mayson laughed. "Do you want me to stay for any other reason?"

Artemis looked at them confused.

"Yes, and my reasons do not include rest for you. Would you like to join us, Pookie?"

"You're disgusting," Artemis said, taking the hint.

"Don't worry, I'm leaving. I need to rest or risk falling asleep during the Council."

Before leaving, he greeted Artemis with a kiss on the forehead, "Goodnight, Princess," a gesture that leaves her stunned and unprepared to respond.