After a year as the Pacific North-West pack's Luna, the Council of Betas was my least favorite part of the position. I endured it for my most favorite part, Alpha Blake, who sat to my right. He studied the speaker from under furrowed brows.

If the brewing storm in Blake's eyes was directed at me, I would have lost my nerve, but Conan, the oldest wolf on the council, didn't flinch.

"If we don't turn the rogue out, we should make him wait. Show him his place before we listen to him," he said.

"That's the right thing to do," I replied and paused.

Conan's glance flickered from Blake's face to mine. Same with about half of the gathering. They didn't expect an easy win, and I wouldn't give in, not when they were digging under my most cherished idea.

"It's the right thing to do, if we want to appear petty, not the great pack we are." My voice gathered strength, to fit the fighting words. "The pack that can bring the rogues into the fold, fresh blood, not snap at them across the boundary line. Treat Dirk Steinar with respect—"

"Rogues don't deserve our respect!" Conan snapped at me.

Blake bared his teeth. "My Luna didn't finish speaking, Beta Conan." The first rumble of his Alpha's roar laced his voice, like he wanted to tell them, give me a reason.

I fought back a sigh. I hoped we were past this, but here we go again. Blake just had to step in at the slightest hint of aggression directed at me...it was both frustrating and exciting. It made my heart flutter and tingle with love for my mate, while my mind protested the primal emotions. Worse, I suspected by the stiffness of Blake's shoulders that he agreed with them, while letting me have my say, and it didn't come easy to him.

"Many more will come before Alpha Blake asking for a place to belong," I said, locking gazes with him. After a year together, his fern-green gaze sent a warm heavy wave through my core. If I wasn't already seated, I would have had to sit down.

"That's what I'm worried about," Conan said, sneering. "Their place is in the gutters of the human city."

And you know all about it, when you hadn't set foot in Seattle since the nineteen-thirties. Seattle, the city I grew up in...and, yes, those weren't happy years, but it was my city.

"Even the wayward are our kin," I said. "People change. If we give the rogues a chance, some might reconnect with the forest, find their true wolves within, and contribute to our pack's prosperity."

Conan grunted. "Great, more Omegas."

"Yes, I agree, that would be terrific!" I locked my gaze on Conan with such intensity, the slow clap from the doors of the boardroom gave me a start. I lifted my eyes and gasped at the sight of the stranger who stood there.

The man who entered unannounced, did so despite Gamma Mie's efforts to stop him. Even her kitsune's magic must have failed, judging by her pained expression and the white-knuckled grip on the door.

"Please, Mister Steinar, they're not ready for you," Mie said.

"Don't worry, my foxy friend, I am used to this," the rogue—because who else would that be but our petitioner, Dirk Steinar—replied to Mie, whipped his cloak over one shoulder and rolled his chest forward. "Nobody is ready for the messenger of Fate!"

The dramatic pause allowed me to fully appreciate Steinar's appearance.

He wore a velvet cloak and matching gloves, and knee-high boots, but his hat took the cake. Wide-brimmed, it was studded with brass astrological signs. I recognized the moon, the sun and Zodiac among more arcane stuff. It sat low on his forehead, shadowing his face, and that wasn't enough layering for him. He draped a scarf over his chin and wore a cloth mask. Those too had plenty of symbols.

"Allow me to save the esteemed Council some time," he said, advancing toward the oval conference table with the seated Betas. "Yes, yes, I am Dirk Steinar whose admittance you've discussed so hotly."

With all other men sitting, his already impressive height and wide shoulders dominated. I felt Blake and Beta Harold tensing, but neither of them moved a muscle. Steinar had the intensity, alright, yet he lacked the edge of the Alphas. He didn't come here to challenge; he came to charm.

"I am an astrologer and fortuneteller extraordinaire." Steinar bowed with a flourish, which raised a few brows.

Conan scowled. "A rogue."

"Aye, aye, Beta! I am a rogue," Steinar agreed amicably, bowing specially to Conan. "An uninvited rogue, a disruption, you believe, despite what your Luna had said."

Then Steinar turned his veiled face directly to me. "Thank you for these words, Luna. They will inspire many."

But not him...then why was this unsettling man here?

I was struck by how bright his eyes were in the shadow of his hat, and how blue. His gaze was so familiar, it sent a shiver down my spine, despite being sure I'd never heard of Dirk Steinar, let alone met him before.

He turned back to Conan. "Of course, you also think a Luna has no business putting ideas into rogues' and Omegas' heads, and should instead strengthen the pack by bringing plump baby Alphas into the world."

Conan's lips pinched, but fear flickered across his features as he glanced at Alpha Blake. If he hoped to get a hint of what Blake was thinking, good luck to him. My mate might as well have been carved out of granite.

Out of sight, however, Blake's hand found mine and covered it. Its warmth was pure comfort, after we tiptoed around the subject of going into heat for many months. I hadn't done so since our Mating Night...therefore no baby Alphas for us, plump or otherwise.

Blake said it didn't matter, but the pack was eager for things to return to normal after Blake remained unmated for such a long time, then revived the ancient tradition of finding a Fated Mate. The Goddess brought us together; we adored each other tenderly...yet my body was stuck in a human cycle.

"And you hope she won't," Steinar said after walking a short way around the table to hover over Beta Harold. He even placed his hand on the leatherback of the Beta's chair to look deeper into his face.

Harold, never the one to be easily intimidated, swiveled his chair sideways under the blue gaze, and Steinar moved into the gap as fluidly as if he planned this. Next, he spilled a Tarot deck on the table. He flipped the cards one by one with the deft fingers of a gambler.

The Emperor and the Empress, the High Priestess, the Magician, Wheel of Fortune fanned out on the shiny wood.

"Hmm... At least until you figure out what to do with yourself, and what you need after a betrayal by the only person you let close to you."

The Judgment and the Star came next.

"This pack has an Alpha. It's not you, but having more than one Alpha's son, it erases your uniqueness. And the new arrival would be young, with an unknown potential..."

The last card, the one that Steinar put on top of all others, was the Fool. I hoped it was Harold's fortune, not my future baby's.

"Well, that really grates at you, Beta, particularly after your recent fall from grace." The mask and the scarf made it impossible to read the movement of Steinar's lips, but his startling blue eyes crinkled at the corners.

"Charlatan," Harold scoffed, pushing his chair as far back as possible from the rogue without actually leaving the table.

I dry-swallowed. Charlatan? You wish...

The betas were seated equally, with nothing to show Harold's rank was different, let alone that he was Blake's predecessor's son and perpetual rival. His failed bid for Alpha's position and his conspiracy with my worst enemy, his subsequent punishment was the pack's business, hidden from the outsiders.

Only Blake and I were aware of my bedroom troubles, but a nasty voice in my head giggled that Steinar saw the truth in a matter of seconds. This rogue was at the very least a top-notch trickster. If he had inside information, this was even worse.

Add to it his too-familiar eyes... Where have I seen this penetrating gaze before? When? Why couldn't I remember him?

Blake's hand squeezed mine when my fingers trembled. This was more than comfort. This was a question—did I want him to throw Steinar out?

Do I?

Goddess knows, he made a farce out of my open invitation to the rogues of Seattle to come before the Council in peace. Yet, he was the only one to come forward. If I kicked him out, I might as well admit failure.

When I shook my head slightly, Blake clenched his jaw. He still twined my fingers through his, but the disapproval oozing from him made me glare at Steinar.

Why couldn't our first rogue be some likable, hard-bitten rogue in search of redemption, not this buffoon?

Then Blake wouldn't be on the edge of his seat, preparing to defend something he despised for my sake. That's how he was, he'd do anything for me. Anything. I loved him for it. Loved him with all my heart, and I wanted to be a Luna who didn't need rescuing.

"What business do you bring before the Council?" I asked Steinar.

"Business?" he beamed at me, ignoring my jutting chin. He waved at the Empress, the Wheel of Fortune and the Fool. "Why, Luna, this is precisely my business."

"Reading the cards? You simply wanted to tell us our fortunes?"

"More than that, lovely Luna, more than that. I also do marvelous star charts for astrological predictions. One might say, we are in the same line of business you and I. Except the Goddess didn't bless my art. It is more of a free-flowing inspiration paired with my unparalleled knowledge of the arcana, both human and lupine—"

Blake steepled his fingers in front of him, hooded his eyes. "My mate is a Luna of a meteoric bloodline, so this Council has no need for a rogue's magic. However, if you wish to live by the pack's laws, you can ply your trade at the bars in town or the casino."

While Blake spoke, our visitor strutted about the boardroom, fluffing up the floral arrangements and straightening the paintings, giving the impression of a man who rarely sat still.

The air of finality in Blake's voice had zero impact on him. He lifted an empty mug from the coffee station, looked through it like it was a telescope at the gathering, then saluted Blake with it.

"Pack's laws? Why on the good, green Earth would I want to abide by such nonsense?"

There was no smoothing away this brazen statement. Why, oh why did I ever think that we could talk to the rogues? They had no respect for the Goddess, no love for the ways of the werewolves passed down to us from the dawn of time.

Harold growled low in their throats, glancing at Blake, rightfully expecting a showdown.

My beloved, a wolf to a fault, should be the angriest in the room. The impulse to shift and give Steinar the thrashing he deserved would gnaw at his guts. But Blake became an Alpha over Harold because he knew how to curb his passions and bide his time until his strength mounted.

"You don't want to join the pack. Then why are you here?" Blake asked with a deceptive softness.

I didn't think Steinar could be any livelier, but he shimmied, his body language screaming, thank you for asking! after the jerk dodged almost exactly the same question from me earlier.

From the depth of his cloak, Steinar produced a print-out and waved it at Blake. "You had promised a reward for information on Celeste Crowe's home pack and her parents. Since I knew her mother, I had come to collect!"

My heart thumped in my chest like a distant drum. I tried and failed to take a deep breath. I could only choke in tiny inhales. The boardroom spun around me. Did Steinar finally bring me what I had to know? Who I was, where I came from, why my mother was killed when I was five? Was this another trick? His eyes, so damnably familiar; and him, so patently unreliable even after knowing him for five minutes.

"Unveil yourself!" I screamed, not caring about the consequences, not worried if the Betas would judge me rash, or gullible, or whatever else... "Unveil yourself!"

"Not before the strangers, sweet Celeste," Steinar said with chuckles filling his voice. "For this, we want to be alone, trust me."

Crash! Blake drove his fist through the table, cracking the pricey wood like the martial artists break a wooden board. The cards went flying in all directions, as two men glowered at each-other.