Her unexpected mate

The Moon Goddess club

*Senya*

I am in want of a man.

And not just any man will serve. I have a particular one in mind.

Standing in a shadowed corner of the Moon Goddess Club, an exclusive gaming hell singularly for ladies, I watch as the club’s owner prowls the floor with lengthy, lithe strides, reminding me of a large sleek lion, predatory and

dangerous. His black fitted coat caresses his wide shoulders, as I suspect many a she-wolf has. His black brocade waistcoat molds itself around his lean torso. His white shirt and knotted snowy tie are pristine, a direct contrast to the Sun kissed tone of his skin. He doesn’t appear to be a man who spend all his time indoors.

I had first caught sight of him last summer at Miss Anna’s wedding, when the

daughter of a late Alpha and ward to the Alpha of the high Moon pack had taken Kai Tempest as her husband. I had known nothing about the Tempest family until that day, until I had caught tidbits here and there as people whispered about the disreputable family that was all by-blows.

Then the Alpha of the Thornback pack had married Gina Tempest, a bar owner of all things, for the Goddess sake and the whispers had turned into a dulcet tone of alarm. More recently, one of the Tempest brothers had taken Miss Summer, sister to the Alpha of Ridgewood, to wife, and suddenly no one could talk of anything other than the Tempest bastards and the swath they are rapidly cutting through Society like Genghis Khan’s hordes intent on conquering what had once believed itself unconquerable.

I consider myself immune to their spell but has to admit to being intrigued by

Aaron Tempest ever since I had seen him standing at the altar looking nothing at all like his brother, but then only the Goddess know who has sired him, who has given birth to him.

However, it had been more than the cut of his bristly shadowed jaw or his patrician nose or those full, sensual lips that had made it near impossible to take my eyes from him.

It was the way he had seemed amused by the entire affair. Whenever he peered over his shoulder or faced the crowd of people who had packed themselves onto the pews, desperate to watch a she-wolf of such a high ranked pack marrying a man of such a scandalous past, he had studied them through half-lowered lids, as though taking their measure and not wanting them to see exactly what he thought of them, of how much he found them lacking.

But when Miss Anna had glided up the aisle, the warm smile he had bestowed upon her, expressing his acceptance of her and welcoming her into the family, had marked him as not only kind but immensely approachable.

And I am in need of a man harboring both characteristics in order to calm my

fraying nerves and ease the guilt threatening my resolve. I am where I should not be, standing with my back pressed against a wall, wearing a gown of deep royal blue, a mask of the same shade, because Aaron Tempest offers women sin and secrets. Not all the women hide behind masks, not the bold ones or those who have nothing to lose. I imagine the freedom one must feel to stride through the rooms unmasked, to be unafraid, to be liberated. But it is imperative that no one ever learn of my presence in the scandalous environs provided by Aaron Tempest.

To women, he has opened the heavens where gods plottz and reveals the delicious mysteries within. A club they whisper about among themselves, a place unknown to fathers, brothers, and husbands. A domain in which women rule and do as they please.

He has given them a paradise within the shadows of the city that is theirs and theirs alone. He had known what they wanted, what they needed. And he has provided it.

A man who created all of this, who understands women so well and know the

entertainments for which they yearn, surely will not sit in judgment and will know how to provide a safe haven where a woman could do what she ought not without fear of her actions being revealed to others.

And so I watch as he whispers in the ear of one She-wolf, making her laugh, while his words to another causes her to dip her head and blush profusely, a shy smile curling her lips upward. To various other women he nods or grins the grin given slowly and seductively as though the one to whom it is given is the only soul in the room for whom he has a care. He placed his hand over one She-wolf’s, stopping her from moving a stack of wooden disks into the pile at the center of the table. Then, with a devastating wink that no doubt took the woman's breath, he tosses one of the chips onto the mound.

Then he carries on striding through his dominioni

No, not through. Toward. Toward me.

My heart kicks frantically against my ribs; within my gloves my palms go damp. I am not yet ready to step out of the shadows into the golden glow of the chandeliers above. I am not yet prepared to meet, to speak with this man who might prove to be my salvation if only my courage will not desert me.

It is more than his good looks that unsettles me. It is the way he moves as though each movement is calculated to bring attention to him while giving the impression he wants none at all. The manner in which he observes so keenly, so thoroughly, as though he can decipher all mysteries, make them blossom before him. Choosing him could turn out to be a colossal mistake because I have secrets to hold close. If I was wise, I would turn on my heel and flee. But if I had never fled the circumstances of my marriage, I certainly am not going to run off now, simply because his thorough gazing of me is disconcerting in the extreme. No man has ever looked at me as though I am a confection to be nibbled and enjoyed.

He steps from the light into the gray and leans one shoulder negligently against the wall papered in curlicues of dark burgundy and light rose. The shadows prevent me from discerning the exact shade of his eyes, but not his keen interest in me, not the slight tilting up of one corner of his mouth. “You’re new here”.

His diction is more polished and refined than I had expected, not fully that of someone raised to be an Alpha, but close. I wonder if his father had seen him educated. Not that it matters as his schooling isn’t a deterrent to my purpose, although my nerves are certainly vying for that role. Somewhere within the recesses of my soul, I find the wherewithal to shore up my confidence and force it into my words. “You can’t possibly know that. I am masked”.

“I can identify the she-solves who visit, mask or no. It is not only a face by which one might be recognized”. Slowly his gaze roams over me, not in an insulting or lascivious way, but with an appreciation that has my skin prickling as though it longs to be nearer to him. Then his eyes are back on mine. “What is your name, darling ?”

I do not want to remember how I had once longed to be someone’s darling, to have endearments, not apologies, whispered in my ear. “Enya”

A shortened version of my name, a name no one would recognize me by should they hear it. A name I never use.

He c***s his head to the side, gives me another thorough going-over, and shakes his head. “I don’t think so. Too simple a name for far too complex a woman, I will wager. Lanenya. Or something fancier”.

Licking my lips, I glance around nervously, noting that I have snagged the attention of a few she-wolves, those not masked known to me, which means I am known to them and probably to a few of the masked ones as well. I do not want to consider the embarrassment and shame I would bear if my presence is discovered. “I don’t wish others to hear my name spoken”.

“It will be our secret”. He murmurs, his voice low and seductive, causing unexpected warmth to sluice through me, along with a desire to trust him completely, with everything, but I am not quite as foolish as all that.

“Senya”. I whisper back, thinking no word on my tongue is nearly as sensual as

any syllable on his.

“Senya”. He repeats, his voice going even lower, a velvety caress that nearly has me leaning toward him, toward those lips that creates such mesmerizing resonances. “l am Aaron”.

“Yes, I know”. Do I have to sound so breathless all of a sudden ? “The owner. It’s quite a spectacular place”.

“How would you know ? You haven’t left this spot since claiming it after coming through the door”.

Oh dear, the man is too observant by half. Choosing him could turn out to be an error in judgment. Without another word, before I claim another breath, I should take my leave, but his gaze holds me hostage as though I am a butterfly beneath glass. “I can see the entirety of this room”.

“Ah, but this room is only a small portion of what I offer”. He holds out his hand,

ungloved, large, rough-hewn. It would swallow my breast. Where did that thought come from ? Yet at this particular moment, I can envision those long, slender fingers doing little else than kneading what no man has ever touched. “Come, my lady. Allow me the honor of giving you a tour.”

I almost corrected him. I am not a lady, but a Luna. However, the less he

knows about me, the better. In addition, considering the way he studies me, I am not entirely certain if he is addressing me with an honorific or claiming me as his lady. A silly thought. An even sillier one is that I wouldn’t mind if the latter were the case, but it is imperative that he do not have a care for me and I do not have one for him, that tonight’s little adventure leaves behind no fond memories to be mulled over in the days and years to come.

Swallowing hard, I place my gloved hand in his, surprised how the warmth of his burns through the silk. He tucks it within the crook of his elbow and begins leading me out of the shadows.

“I’m looking forward to introducing you to the pleasures of sin”.