Alphas prefer fiesty Lunas

Hello Meg

*Freya*

I keep a polite smile pasted to my face as I go through another round of introductions. My aunt has already declared the ball.. and me .. a glittering success. Aunt Norah can’t believe the number of young men who have begged her and her husband for an introduction to their niece.

And I have behaved beautifully. In the words of my aunt: I am witty and bright and, thankfully, hasn’t done anything too outrageous. Norah knows that I find it a trial to be continuously correct.

In actuality, I am not finding my correct behavior overly burdensome. I am simply too tired to live up to my mischievous reputation even if I had wanted to. It is all I can do to keep up amusing banter with the many people I have met this evening. Even with a pounding headache, I refuse to give London the misconception that I am a shy, retiring miss. It is my opinion that the ton already has far too many of those.

"Freya, dear," my aunt calls. "I want you to meet Alpha and Luna Humphries."

I smile as I hold out my hand to the plump pair. Alpha Humphries, who looks to be about thirty-five years older than me, bows courteously and kisses my knuckles. "I'm very pleased to meet both of you," I say politely, my American accent apparent.

"Then it's true!" Alpha Humphries says triumphantly. "You are from the Colonies! Good old Percy over there wagered you were from France. 'With a last name like Moonshadow?' I said. 'No, she's from good English stock, even if she did defect to the Colonies.' And I was right. I'm going to have to go and collect my wager."

Before I can say anything more, he has waddled away in search of his crony. I am somewhat surprised at the amount of attention being paid to me and more than a little flustered that people are actually making wagers about my origins. River has told me that the high packs often make wagers to amuse themselves, but this is ridiculous. Didn't they have anything more interesting to do with their time?

I turn to Luna Humphries, who has been stranded by her mate, and smile weakly. "How do you do, Luna Humphries?"

"Very well, thank you," she replies. Luna Humphries has a friendly manner but seems slightly daft. "Do tell me..." she says, leaning forward conspiratorially. "Is it true that wild bears roam free in Boston? I understand that the Colonies are overrun with savages, rogues and wild beasts."

I can see my aunt roll her eyes, a motion I find funny as she is blind, and groan in expectation of another of her niece's lectures about the many wonderful qualities of the United States. But I just lean forward, taking both of the older Luna's hands in my own, and say, just as conspiratorially as Luna Humphries, "Actually, Boston is quite civilized. You'd feel quite at home there."

"No!" Luna Humphries says, shocked.

"No, really. We even have dressmakers there." I tell her.

"Really?" Luna Humphries's eyes are wide with interest.

"Yes, and milliners, too," I nod slowly, my eyes wide. "Of course, they often get destroyed when the coyotes come through town."

She gasps, "Coyotes! You don't say!"

"Yes, and they're so terribly vicious. Why, I lock myself in my home each year for weeks in fear of them." I say.

Luna Humphries fans herself vigorously. "Oh my. Oh my, I have to go tell all this to Margaret. If you will excuse me." Eyes wide with a mix of horror and delight, she darts away from me and disappears into the crowd.

I turn to my aunt and cousin, both of whom are shaking with mirth. "Oh, Freya," Angel laughs, wiping tears out of the corners of her eyes. "You shouldn't have done that."

I roll my eyes and give a harrumph. "Well," I declare. "You've got to let me have a little bit of fun tonight."

"Of course, darling," Norah replies, shaking her head. "But did you have to have your fun with Luna Humphries? Your little tale will be all over the ballroom in less than ten minutes."

"Oh, pooh. Nobody with any sense will believe it. And frankly, I'm not interested in impressing anybody who hasn't got sense," I raise my eyebrows and turn to my relatives, silently daring them to reply.

"She's got a valid point," Angel concedes.

"I must admit, I have always found Luna Humphries rather ridiculous myself," Aunt Norah remarks.

"I don't plan on being impolite," I explain. "It's just that I think I will perish of boredom if I have to engage in conversation with any more of these complete ninnyheads."

"We'll do our best to protect you," Norah replies, a smile tugging at her lips.

"I knew you would," I reply, smiling gaily.

*Zac*

At this moment, one of River’s friends appears at Freya’s side to claim a dance. I scowl at the young man from behind the drape as I watch the pair float across the ballroom floor.

"A little jealous, are we?" Palladino inquires.

"'We' are not the least bit jealous," I reply imperiously. "'We' have no reason to be jealous. For the Goddess’ sake, he's a mere boy," I say, referring to Freya's dance partner.

My friend raises a brow, "You're right, of course. That would make him about three years older than Miss Moonshadow."

I ignore his comment. "Did you hear the way she got rid of Luna Humphries?" I ask admiringly. "She was absolutely right. Even my mother thinks Luna Humphries is a ridiculous old windbag."

Palladino nods slowly, deep in thought. He hasn't seen me act this way about a she-wolf since our university days, before I developed a deep and healthy suspicion of the fairer s*x.

"And her comment about not wanting to meet anyone without any sense," I continue. "You must admit that she has spirit. And sense, too."

"And she's coming back this way," Palladino points out.

I immediately resume my watch. Freya has finished her dance and is returning to her aunt's side.

"Did you have a nice time, dear?" Norah asks.

"Oh, yes. John is a lovely dancer," Freya replies. "And hewas quite friendly, too. He said he would teach me how to fence. I have always wanted to learn."

I feel a knot of jealousy churn in my stomach.

"I don't know if fencing would be quite the thing, but I'm glad you like him," Norah remarks. "He would be quite a catch, you know. His father is a beta of considerable wealth."

The knot grows to about the size of a cannonball.

"I'm sure he is, but I'm really not interested in finding a mate right now." Freya says.

I breathe a heavy sigh of relief. My interests do not lie in that particular direction, either.

Freya pats Norah on the arm. "Don't worry, dear aunt, when the time comes, I'm sure I will find the perfect mate. But he will have to be an American because I don't plan to give up Moonshadow Shipping."

"There aren't too many Americans from which to choose here in London," Norah points out.

"Then I will just have to amuse myself with the company of witty young men like John." She grins.

My temper begins to flare again. Palladino has the audacity to whisper, "Do I have to restrain you from jumping out from behind this curtain, claiming your desire, and making a general spectacle of yourself?"

Just then Angel returns to chat with Freya and Norah, saving him from getting strangled with the curtain. Her cheeks are flushed pink from her whirl across the dance floor. "Freya," she says breathily. "You must come with me and meet more of River's friends. I know you will love them. And they're all just dying to meet you," she adds with a wink.

"Do you think they could wait a few minutes? I have a bit of a headache," Freya says lightly. In actuality, she looks dizzy and in growing discomfort.

Freya looks meaningfully at Angel, who I have a strange feeling might know at least something of what transpired this afternoon. "Aunt Norah, would it be terribly impolite if I retired to my room for ten or fifteen minutes? My head is pounding from all this excitement, and I know that a few moments of quiet is all I need to ease it."

"Of course, dear. I will just tell anyone who asks that you have just gone to the washroom to freshen up." Her aunt says.

"Thank you," Freya sighs. "I won't be long. I promise." She scoots out of the ballroom and up a flight of stairs to the private quarters of the mansion.

My eyebrows rise when I overhear Freya's request, and a delicious grin spreads across my face.

"Oh, no," Palladino admonishes, correctly interpreting my expression. "Even you can't get away with that, Avalon. It's simply not done. You cannot follow a young she-wolf back to her bedroom. You don't even know her."

"Oh, but I do." I say.

Palladino tries another tactic. "If you get caught, you will ruin her reputation on her first night out. You will have to marry the chit. There would be no way around it. It would be the honorable thing."

"No one will see me," I state in a matter-of-fact tone. "If anyone asks for me, tell them I've gone to the washroom. To freshen up." With that, I emerge from my hiding place and follow Freya out of the ballroom, my footsteps carefully silent.

*Freya*

The hallway has been left unlit to discourage the tipsy and amorous from extending the party to all corners of the house, but I easily find my room. I light a solitary candle, preferring the semi darkness for my headache. With an unapologetically loud yawn, I kick off my shoes and settle down amidst the soft white quilts of my bed. Sighing deeply, I rub my temples and decide that I have, indeed, enjoyed myself at my first London party.

It is true that I have met a fair number of stuffy and pompous aristocrats, but I have also been introduced to many intelligent and interesting men and women. If only I did not have this blasted lump on my skull. I know that I would be having a better time if I were feeling more.. up to it. I am just so incredibly tired. I let my eyelids flutter shut, groaning softly as I wonder how on earth I am ever going to rouse myself to return to the party.

*Zac*

I move swiftly and silently into the room, mentally blessing the well-oiled hinges of Freya’s door. I pause for a moment, regarding Freya with a tender gaze. In repose, she is soft and sweet, without a hint of her sharp tongue and rapier wit. A delicate smile touching her face as she nestles deeper into her quilts, and I realize that there is nothing in this world I want to do more than to take her into my arms and lull her to sleep. I stop and frown, puzzling at my chaste thoughts. Frankly, I can’t remember the last time I had any tender feelings for a woman.

Suddenly, Freya stretches out her body with a feline purr. I feel lust take over my mind and body as her breasts strains against the top of her bodice.

Freya, eyes still closed, sighs in contentment.

I step back to the door.

Freya curls back into a ball, thinking that solitude is indeed a wonderful state.

I shut the door with a resounding click.

Freya’s eyes fly open with horror, and she gasps at the sight of the dark haired, hazel eyed man whose powerful frame seems to fill her entire room.

“Hello, Meg”.