Chapter 290 – Luna of The Mighty Alpha

Filed To Story: The Perfect Luna by Marissa Gilbert

Devoss was still waiting for her when she walked out of her room and led her to the dining hall, which was simply one of the terraces of the long fortress, where all the rogues she had already met before were present.

Kara and Bastian frowned when they saw her, while Warg gave no reaction. Some Omega was serving them, and Astrea was a bit shocked by the abundance of food on the table. This wasn’t how she imagined breakfast at a rogue table.

 Beautiful colourful ceramic plates and bowls were full of fruit, nuts, cheeses, salads, flatbreads and some dips that Astrea didn’t recognize. The impressive spread before her looked and smelled delicious. She hadn’t eaten anything since she left the island and it took all of her self-control not to throw herself at what was before her..

However, she forgot about the food the moment her eyes locked with the King of Rogues.

Fenrir sat at the head of the table, wearing another black shirt and still managing to look imposing with his dark hair reaching his muscular shoulders.

“Welcome to our modest table, Astrea,” he raised a brow at her, and she waited for him to say something else. Anything really…

But he did no such thing, and she took one of the seats, frustrated, choosing the one slightly away from everyone else.

“You stayed,” Kara stated the obvious with no excitement in her voice. She looked both bored and annoyed beyond belief.

“Yes, and I am looking forward to our cooperation!” Astrea acted as if she didn’t notice the resentment. She was good at it as she’d had a lot of practice in her past.

“So, what are your plans for us?” Devoss was the only one who seemed genuinely friendly and interested. “What are you going to do here?”

“I would like to start with exploring the East,” she smiled. “I want to see the cities, meet the people, see how everything is arranged here before I can give my recommendations on what to do.”

“So professional!” Devoss nodded, arranging his plate with the delicacies he liked. “Looks like you are going to need a guide here!”

“That would be very nice!” she grinned at him. “I was hoping that someone would volunteer to help me with this.”

Fenrir cleared his throat, and her eyes went back to him involuntarily. It was incredibly hard not to think of what had happened between them the night before.

“Why are you wearing a scarf?” he asked, startling her. “It’s a hot day, and it’s only going to get hotter from here.”

She stared at him for a few moments before replying. “It’s there for decorative purposes.”

The corners of his lips tilted upwards. “Beautiful. And now, why don’t you remove it?”8. Sand Storm

“No, thanks,” Astrea gave the Rogue King her most charming smile and pretended to be focused on picking some fruit for herself,

“It goes against our traditions to wear scarves at the dining table.” She heard Fenrir’s mocking voice and paused. Her research of the former Eastern Kingdom had no such restrictions described anywhere. Why the rogues would have such a silly rule was beyond her. It made no sense.

“Since when?” Bash asked the reasonable question, confirming her suspicions, and she heard a distinctive sound of a kick under the table, which made Astrea straighten her back instantly.

So, Fenrir remembered something.

She prayed for her blood not to rush to her cheeks to avoid giving her away.

Luckily, she was prepared for such a turn of events, too, and immediately looked Fenrir in the eye without a shade of confusion or hesitation.

She couldn’t make a big deal out of the stupid piece of fabric because she had to make his suspicions disappear.

“Oh, excuse me. I had no idea.” She stood up and unwrapped the scarf, throwing it around the back of her chair as if she had nothing to hide. “Any more rules like this would be very useful to know.”

The love bite was still covered with make-up, so she stretched her lips into a broader smile and sat back, meeting the Rogue King’s gaze.

It was possible that he remembered something and doubted whether it was a dream or reality. Her current task was to ensure he came to the right conclusion that it was all an illusion of his drunken mind.

“Yeah, those rules would be good to know for all of us,” Devoss chuckled, shooting a mocking glance at his leader.

“I will send you the list,” Fenrir cocked his brow at his friend. “It starts with no bright colours in my palace.”

The jab was clear because today, Devoss was wearing a bright green suit, looking even more dazzling than before. His long dark hair was gathered in a tail at the back of his head, and once again, Astrea mused that this wasn’t how she imagined rogues at all. The ones she’d met before were very different from this bunch.

“Which one?” Devoss smirked, and Fenrir cast a stern gaze on him. The little interaction caught Astrea’s attention.

“Do you have more than one palace?” she asked, and Bash coughed, Kara hitting him on his back as hard as she could, almost making him end up with his nose in his plate.

Something was off.

“Yeah, dozens!” Fenrir snorted, devouring his food. “The whole desert is peppered with my palaces, didn’t you know?”

“How could I,” she stabbed some fruit she didn’t recognize on the display before her without looking. “I am new here. I need that tour to get to know this place, remember?”

“We’ll arrange that, won’t we, Fenrir?” Devoss was definitely trying to smooth the edges between them.

“Sure,” the King smirked, and his eyes found Astrea immediately. “Anything for our dear guest.”

“That’s very sweet of you.” She didn’t buy it. The glint in his eyes was too mischievous.

“I had a dream about you,” he suddenly announced loudly, and everyone stopped doing whatever they were busy with, paying their full attention to him now.

“About me?” Devoss tried to deflect as he sat next to Astrea, but she knew very well who Fenrir was talking about.

“No, about our Southern guest.” His King leaned over the back of his massive chair with a smug smile.

“Oh, really?” Astrea fluttered her eyelashes at him innocently. “Was it good? Did we make that alliance after all?”

“You came into my room late at night wearing next to nothing and offered yourself on a platter,” he stated calmly, testing her, fishing for a reaction that she was not going to offer.

“Oh, my!” she giggled. “So, it was that kind of a dream! I am flattered. So unexpected, to be honest.”

“Yeah,” he chuckled. “I was shocked!”

“I would be, too!” she hummed, dipping her flatbread into some delicious-smelling paste. “So unrealistic, though!”

“Very,” he agreed, not taking his piercing gaze off her. “We kissed.”

“Moon Goddess!” she gasped matter-of-factly as if to let him know she wasn’t impressed at all, and as soon as she said those words, he frowned.

“I marked every inch of your body with my tongue,” Fenrir went on, reaching for a tall metal glass before him and taking a sip.

“I think I am done!” Kara stood up abruptly, letting her heavy wooden chair screech over the tile floor as she moved it, an expression of annoyance on her face.

“Leaving so soon?” Devoss sneered at her.

“I have a lot of training planned for today for the new arrivals,” the woman brushed him off. “And I’ve suddenly lost my appetite.”

Astrea was grateful for this distraction Kara provided because she could feel her heart drumming in her ears after Fenrir’s shameless remarks. He didn’t mark every inch of her body! Maybe he did dream of her after she drugged him and left? The thought alone made her feel the heat all over her body. Heat which she had to suppress.

“And then, when I relieved you of your flimsy nightgown, I spread your–” The Rogue King did not seem to be done yet.

“Kara, wait up!” Warg was next to leave, hurrying after his friend and not even bothering to finish his food. “I’ll help!”

Astrea pretended to be busy with a copper coffee pot she found, pouring herself what looked like the strongest and, at the same time, most aromatic coffee of her life into a small cup.

Would he stop alreadywith the nonsense?

Everyone was silent for a while.

“So, you tore her nightgown and spread her what?” Devoss stirred his tea with a little teaspoon, and Astrea wanted to throw something at him.

“I think I am not hungry anymore,” Bastian also stood up, irritation spilling off his tone. “See you all later.”

“What a touchy crowd we have here!” Devoss scoffed and put the teaspoon aside, the corners of his lips turned upwards. “So, where did we stop, Fenrir? Luckily, I am an eager listener!”

“I think we got what kind of a dream that was!” Astrea decided to intervene. Enough was enough. “Spare us the details, please.”

“Of course,” Fenrir chuckled, returning to his food. “It ended abruptly anyway. I bit you slightly on your marking spot, and that snake on your neck came to life and tried to bite me back.”

She halted. She didn’t mean to, but for just a mere second, she did.

It was one thing for him to remember bits and pieces of their little encounter and to question it. It was completely another to talk about her tattoo, which was indeed alive.

“What a c*ckblocking tattoo you have, Astrea!” Devoss was the one enjoying this awkward breakfast the most.

“Only in Fenrir’s dreams!” she retorted with a stiff little smile, downing the remnants of her coffee.

“Is that a challenge?” the King let out a confident laugh, and she was ready to swear at herself for teasing him. She needed to dial down that tension, not escalate it more.

“Anyway,” she turned to finally look at him, “I would like to see the city and possibly have a tour around. I need to know what I am working with.”

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