Awaken: Book One: London

by Limelan Z

  At length, he put away his phone and returned to the task in hand: assessing my weird fae-wolf combo. There was no record of a fae-wolf surviving long. Elvira had been looking for precedent for a hybrid like me being strong – being able to access both creatures. So far, she’d come up with nothing, which meant we were back in the cells with Armande testing ways to trigger one or both parts of me.

  After the challenge, all the wolves in the room had determined to be part of Wolfe’s pack. Even the ones that Carlos had brough with him from Viking-land. The ones who had been part of his own pack’s coup seemed forgiven, which in my view was a bad idea but Wolfe had insisted the choice was there for them to return.

  The whole situation had caused a bit of a drama with the other packs. The idea that someone could be so devious as to implant moles in your pack – and cowardly enough to ignore the challenge rule – had sent the werewolf world into disarray.

  Armande continued: ‘And I think we will go on holiday to Sweden or Japan. Somewhere with lots of fish.’

  Vince grinned at him and reached out a hand to rest on his shoulder. ‘Armande, you bring up a lot of questions in me.’ He gave a curtsey in response. ‘So, have you poked and prodded Ceri enough for today?’

  ‘For today,’ he shrugged. ‘There is no instruction manual here.’ He leaned towards me. ‘I really want to meet this Ossi, though. I hear from the other witches that she parties hard.’

  I laughed. ‘Yes, she’s great.’

  ‘You must have lots of questions for her.’

  ‘I do. I did,’ I admitted. ‘Hopefully, I didn’t scare her off when we were up north. Extenuating circumstances and all that. Right now, the only thing I want to know is how a Viking ended up with the name Carlos.’

  And what Patrick’s real name was. And how Frankie got so hench. And what exactly it meant to be a lone wolf-fae. Or fae-wolf. Whatever I was.

  Actually, there were loads of things I still wanted to know.

  ‘Ready?’

  I looked up and smiled. It was Wolfe. We were going on a date. An indoor date that involved a Blackadder boxset and obligatory pyjamas. I was determined to educate him.

  ‘Remember, Ceri,’ Armande called as I reached out to take his hand. ‘Be gentle with him. He is not used to all your kinky angel ways.’

  I smiled. Doubly at the frown on Wolfe’s face. Well, there was one way to find out.

  THE END