Some wolves would have tat-tatted Este for crashing the prone human under her feet, but my Goddess, was my fated mate spectacular in her fury!

Her snow white werewolf form with the dusting of silver, made my tongue glue to the roof of my mouth in awe and disbelief. How's a guy like me, from a family that couldn't boast anything above Gamma for five generations, mated a girl like her? Sure, her father was the worst rogue of all rogues, but a meteoric bloodline was bigger than any black sheep.

Watching Este fight pushed me beyond awe. It was a rapture, a revelation, a feast for my heart. One year is such a short time, but one year as my pack's Luna made Este into someone my soul was growing through like tree roots through Earth. The Goddess had known that Este was the only one for me.

Silver coating on the human's batons couldn't subdue Este, of course. The contact would only pour magical adrenaline into her veins to negate any hurt the bone-crashing impact caused, but my smart cookie dodged most blows. These humans had honed reflexes and must have trained against werewolves to come onto her with this kind of relentless fury and impressive coordination. Their fight wasn't a barroom brawl—the memory of which still flushed my cheeks with heat—this was a dance of martial skill.

"You show them, Este!" A wheezing cough tore through my chest.

Este snarled when she heard me hack my lungs out and landed an angry hit on the man in front of her.

She paid for the lunge with a blow to her calf, but her claws left jagged red tracks on the human's ripped clothing. Dawn feathers floated from the tear and swirled in a vortex around her.

She was spectacular—I must have said this already, but—more coughing shook me. It was like I swallowed a handful of broken glass with every cough.

However, my lungs no longer burned as bad as they did a second ago. I coughed so hard, I almost vomited, purging nano-silver from my system.

Harold's face scrunched in a pained grimace when he caught onto my ploy. Coughing rattled him every other second. At first, he doubled over, nearly losing his footing, but then he caught himself and crouched.

Yes, nano-silver spray wasn't as effective as Tara thought out of doors—

We should use it. I faked more cough, short, commanding pulses of it, like barks.

Harold's head whipped to me, his brows domed in a silent question.

My heart was ready to break out of my chest and rush to Este's aid, but I pointed at Tara and Steinar.

Harold pursed his lips, then his chin bobbed up and down in agreement, and a malevolent grin took over. He hacked, as I counted down from three with my fingers.

On the last count, I issued a tortured moan, made a cut-out gesture.

We surged forth in silence.

He circled to the left; I circled to the right. We closed on Tara's position like pincers.

The werewolf shift still wouldn't come to my silver-damaged body, but I dashed so hard and so stealthily, Tara only started to lift her head, cluing in that we went silent for too long, when I gripped her wrist with the syringe.

She hissed and left-hooked me, but the damn thing fell out of her purple fingers.

Harold crashed into her from the other side, and the two of them rolled through decaying leaves and snow. "Help Este," Harold rasped.

I grabbed Steinar by the breast of his coat. "If you make a sound to betray us—"

He pointedly rubbed his neck where the needle left pink scratches, then, with no warning, the coat was yanked out of my clenched hand. Steinar shifted into his werewolf form, so similar to Este's. "Forgive me while I give my daughter a hand."

He didn't have to shove me with his massive, bony elbow as he took off toward Este, but he did.

The temptation to fling the syringe at Steinar's wide furry back was strong, but I ground the plastic tube into frozen dirt with my heel, until it exploded. The deadly load, whatever it was, sprayed the snow—such a fine victory for me.

"Thank Goddess you're alright!" Este trilled with pure joy. She meant Steinar, who showed up in a blaze of glory to rescue her. Completely unnecessary too.

A growl rumbled in my chest. It arched it out, expanding the rib cage. Then expanding it some more. One, two inhales—and the breathing came easier, clearing my lungs. Another exhale—and the shift was on. It was screwy, but I would take it!

I leapt in the air as mostly human, and landed on Este's attacker's back as a four-hundred pound werewolf. The man, amazingly, wavered on his feet for two seconds, before the knees buckled under him. The bastards really must have trained against the werewolves.

"Classy," Steinar said drily and batted the head off the shoulders of his unfortunate opponent like it was a golf ball on a pin. Blood squirted on Esme's white form.

I grunted, twisting my opponent's arm behind him, to subdue, not to rip his limb out of its socket. "Steinar, stand down. The pack doesn't kill without need."

Steinar scoffed. "There is a need, unless you don't know a need unless it marches in front of you, waving a Hello, I'm NEED sign."

"Find a rope, please, if you have a bit of time," Este intervened, controlling her captive, "ah...Dad. Please?"

"So he could hang himself?" Steinar asked rather hopefully and tilted his head towards me.

"To tie the prisoners." I was surprised to hear how calmly I sounded. Everything hurt and anger clawed at my gut, pushing me to dominate this man once and for all—or chase him out of Este's life. Neither was a worthy thing to do, for, unfortunately, this odious man produced my beloved mate into being.

"Kill them all, Alpha." For once, Steinar didn't sound like he was only half-serious. "I'll explain why later."

My brows creased. It couldn't be just a petty desire to get his revenge for being imprisoned. Could it?

"Dad!" Este exclaimed and my sore chest warmed up—she agreed with me.

"We're not killing them." I slammed my guy in the back of his head, knocking him out. "Talk while I find the rope, Steinar. Or go help Harold. Make yourself useful for once."

Steinar followed me as I went to the closest tent and unwound a length of yellow nylon from it.

"We don't have time for the boy scouts' badges!" he grumbled. "We don't, with what I've learned. This information has to reach your damn Council."

"Then find Harold." I cringed, imagining both disagreeable men disappearing, then dismissing the fantasy as weakness. I was the Alpha. My duty was to deal with everyone. "I'm not leaving him behind."

"Goodness gracious, these Alpha types—" Without finishing his evaluation of my type, Steinar raced in to where Harold and Tara had disappeared, leaving me alone with Este.

I looked at her—and despite the mess we found ourselves in, despite the coil of rope in my hands, despite being in hostile territory, an irrepressible smile spread across my lips.

"You were brilliant," I said. "If we weren't fated mates, I would have fallen for you on the spot."

She couldn't trade a smile for a smile in her werewolf form, but it glittered in her blue eyes, more precious than all the jewels in the world. "You didn't fight half-bad yourself...for a human."

A poisoned human, I wanted to say, but that would be fishing for a compliment. I knelt to tie up our three surviving prisoners, even the one Celeste beat down good, because underestimating one's enemies is a fatal flaw.

To tighten all the knots properly, I had to shift back to human.

While our only prisoner who regained consciousness hadn't uttered a single thing since losing the fight, his sullen expression changed to wistful when he saw it. The way he watched me work out the crick in my neck, then flex my more agile human fingers, made me pause. "What?"

The man shut off like a hatch and stared straight ahead.

"He covets your power," Este said, crouching next to me, also back in her human form. "I recognize the feeling. I used to..."

She didn't finish her sentence, but she didn't need to. Born a shifter and raised among the shifters, I rarely wondered how our nature appeared to the outsiders—until I saw it through Celeste's eyes.

I found her hand and stroked it. "Our power, my love. You were always one of us, no matter what."

"Oh, Blake..." A sweet smile bloomed on her face. More than sweet. It promised a kiss like hot sunshine in early spring promises summer, even with the snow still covering everything.

I leaned in to kiss her—and some asshole cleared his throat behind us. Steinar!

"One human prisoner and one Beta delivered, as ordered!" Any more cheer, and he would begin whistling.

Resentment twisted my gut in a tighter knot than the ones I was just fixing on the prisoners. Steinar could have given us a minute to share a kiss. Maybe, it was an unreasonable expectation under the circumstances, but after he brought up the wedding and undermined my prestige, it seemed to fit the pattern—Steinar was trying to sow discord between Este and me.

I didn't know what twisted reason he had to do so, and it didn't interest me. I simply wanted him to stop screwing with us, so I glared at him for a long moment before turning my attention to Harold and Tara.

The Beta was worse for wear, but his brushes and cuts were healing, so his werewolf constitution overcame the exposure to nano-silver. His obnoxious smirk was back too, so he was fine. Tara stood between him and Steinar. Her hands were bound behind her back, but something else was peculiar.

"You didn't gag her?" I squinted at the human woman. Her nose sat askew on her face, bleeding over a darkening bruise, giving her countenance an even grimmer air than her underlings had. However, she straightened her back, projecting quiet dignity over that. Quiet. Steinar's guards never tried to raise an alarm either.

"She wants to bargain," Harold said. "Figured, you'd want to hear her out, since Steinar says we're keeping them alive."

I ignored the disapproval and motioned for Tara to speak.

The woman looked squarely into my eyes, not a minor feat. "We'll give you everything we know, Alpha, if you let us walk through the Moon Arch."

Este gasped. "Absolutely not!"

"You did, and came out as someone you were meant to be," Tara replied without missing a beat, "Luna Celeste."

Este walked to the other woman and touched her nose. Luna's Glow spread around the two, stemming the drip of blood from Tara's nose and making the bruise recede instead of overtaking her right eye. My chest swelled with pride—my mate's instinct for making friends out of her enemies was a wonderful thing.

"I'm a werewolf of a meteoric bloodline." There was no boasting in Este's tone at all, when she spoke. "I had no choice."

"I do, Luna," Tara said boldly. "I choose to walk through the Moon Arch."

Este shook her head. "A human who wasn't born a shifter, they would be cursed with lycanthropy. A lycanthrope is not in control of their transformation, nor their mind when the shift seizes them. They can't even speak. They unleash their fear and frustration through violence. That's why we have all the frightening tales about the murderous werewolves."

After Este finished speaking, the silence was absolute. Tara pursed her lips, but her eyes blazed when she glanced at Steinar. I could read her mute reproach loud and clear. This wasn't what you said.

Steinar put a reassuring hand on her shoulder, as if he didn't ask me to kill Tara along with the others only a few minutes ago. "We don't know that, only speculate. The packs didn't let a human near the Moon Arch in centuries. And the records of the time were...how should I put it? Full of bias?"

The scoundrel! "Don't question Luna's words," I snapped.

"Alpha Blake," Steinar said with a smile which was as simpering as it was insincere. "Not sure if they teach this to the muscular folk, but this was how all our ancestors came into being at that fabled dawn of time your Council loves to blather about so much. If it is so sacred, why is it so forbidden?"

"Because it takes generations for the inner harmony to establish in the bloodline." Celeste's gaze was far too gentle. She still wanted to reason with this man, not fight him over his dangerous ideas. She saw a father figure, not the dangerous deviant he was. "And in the meantime, the lycanthropes suffer and spread the suffering."

Steinar shook his head. "That's one hypothesis. We don't know the truth or even if there is one unassailable truth and individuality counts for nothing."

"They volunteer to find out." Harold scoffed. "I say, we let them. What do we have to lose?"

I whipped my head at him and growled. The cur knew perfectly well that the Council would have my hide for it.

"We'll lose who we are. The Luna has spoken, and through her the Goddess has spoken. Gag the prisoners and leave them here. Alive. We're leaving."

Steinar opened his mouth to argue, but I stepped chest to chest with him.

"Another word of heresy—and you can stay here with them. I'm sure Scarlett has more syringes with poison lying around."

It would be an unholy alliance, but if Steinar was one thing, he was a free spirit. He would not be bound neither by threats, nor by love, nor by loyalty. Indeed, despite narrowing his eyes and pure hatred for me that flashed through them, he slowly nodded.

Silent obedience was too much to ask of him, however.

Steinar beamed at Este. "Whatever my lovely daughter wants, she gets. You have the wisdom of your mother. The more I look at you, the more I see Vesper." And the bastard pressed his hand to his empty, cold chest. "It's good for this old heart."

He might have wept in fake adulation, if at that moment the forest didn't ripple with the ovation. The roar of hundreds throats grew like a storm, overtaking the entire island. It became so loud, that even at a distance that separated us from the crowd, the noise became syllables, and the syllables became words.

"Scarlett," the rogues chanted. "Scarlett, Scarlett, Scarlett!"