Luna Ascending (The Wolves of Fenrir Watch Book 1)

by Zana Wilder

  Tomorrow, I have to get hold of the school's handyman to look at the blasted things again. Those lights are forever on the blink and I swear they choose the days my migraines are at their worst to act up.

  Getting back to the tenement I have to bat away an overattentive Mrs Grimsby who really wants to know who's fancy car was here last night, and fall in my front door. Big hot steaming bath and a hot chocolate it is...

  ∞∞∞

  By the weekend I've almost recovered. It's ridiculous, I'm only in my early twenties – it's unfair my hangovers last for days! I'm definitely feeling better today, and I have a sneaking suspicion my good mood is down to that stupid speed dating app. I've got a message blinking away in my inbox saying I've matched with Marc.

  After a few messages back and forwards I'm flirting, openly, actually flirting. Much easier by text! I'd be a little more excited if it was Aaron I was messaging but hey... I still feel a fizz of excitement. It's bloody sad that it's been so long since I had a bit of male attention.

  Liz and I plan a cinema night out, but it turns into dinner first at a bistro bar she has her eye on. Oddly enough Liz drops into conversation that it was one of Tavey's haunts and he might be there this weekend. Bit stalker-y if you ask me, but she seems really excited.

  I have my own agenda... If Aaron and Tavey are friends, or family, maybe Aaron will be there too. I don't mentioned it to Liz - I can't cope with her enthusiasm and subsequent disappointment for me if it doesn't work out. To be honest, I know the chances are pretty slim.

  At the end of dinner, we're just moving to the bar when my phone pings in my pocket and I jump. Liz is here with me, and no-one else bothers to message. Liz peers at my phone over my shoulder.

  “I can see you. ” she reads out “Well that's a bit creepy!” Liz frowns peering around.

  "It's Marc, you remember, the super suave guy from that horrendous speed dating night you dragged me to..."

  “Him?! Marciel?? Did you like him? I didn't think he'd be your type, too... showy! His family are the same - rich and controlling.”

  Immediately I'm defensive. What a daft assumption that he might not be my 'type' because he's rich. I don't have enough time to express my annoyance before an arm snakes alarmingly around my waist, making me squeak in surprise. Liz's eyebrows shoot up so high I think they'll disappear.

  “Hi, Marc...” my words come out in a stutter, trying to remember my manners “this is Liz, my friend. She was at the speed dating too...”

  I wait for him to move his arm and he does so reluctantly. Marc looks briefly at Liz and nods curtly, then turns his charming eyes back on me.

  “I was hoping I could persuade you on a date, but meeting like this is perfect!” He beams.

  I can feel Liz rolling her eyes without even looking at her and she excuses herself to the bathroom. I lean away from Marc giving myself a bit more space – he seems drunk but remarkably still in control.

  He's looking me up and down, and suddenly I feel really self-conscious. I didn't put much thought into what I was wearing tonight – the chances of meeting Aaron, or anyone, was pretty slim. My favourite, but slightly careworn, jersey dress suddenly feels like it's seen better days. If his slowly meandering appraisal taking in every inch of me is anything to go by however, he's not put off.

  Marc insists on buying me a drink, even after I explain I'm on a breather from alcohol. I guess the booze he already has on board means he won't take no for an answer.

  While he goes to order, I have a chance to inspect his classically high cheek-boned good looks, without being caught staring. He might not be Aaron, but he is a very handsome man. Lots of women would kill for a little bit of attention from him. If I'm honest though, his current antics are alarming. He's clicking his fingers at the barman.

  I know some people can be spectacularly rude without realising, but I find myself sinking lower in my seat hoping no-one thinks I'm with him. Without biding, a phrase my auntie used to chirp springs into my mind, something about watching the way someone treats others less fortunate in order to gauge character. A feeling of unease washes over me.

  My headache, which was grumbling away in the background, chooses this exact moment to go nuclear. I queasily watch Marc weave back towards me triumphantly clutching a bottle of champagne and groan inwardly. I already said I wasn't drinking... a whole bloody bottle?! Marc seems oblivious and pours us both a glass with a flourish, insisting we toast.

  He keeps inching closer and leans in conspiratorially, despite the fact I'm pretty sure my body language is saying back off. I fold my arms.

  “You know you are very beautiful” he murmurs, as clichéd as you like “I'd love to take you on that spa date”.

  He grins leaning even nearer, and I can't help feel like the smile doesn't quite reach his eyes. I take a small sip of champagne, more for something to do with my hands than anything, and feel myself warm to him a little.

  “I'm not sure” I try to act coy, hiding my discomfort a little “I don't really know you.”

  Scanning the room, looking for Liz and a get-out, I see someone that makes my breath hitch. Aaron is standing bolt upright directly across the room, looking straight at us and frowning.

  Marc seems oblivious, and chooses the moment to excuse himself to the restroom. I relax a little as he weaves away.

  Aaron strides over to me. Something about the way he moves makes my heart thud. Holy crap, I swear he's more attractive than the last time I saw him! I attempt to flutter my eyelashes, but probably look more like I'm having a mini-stroke. He smiles charmingly at me anyway.

  “Freya! I was hoping I might run into you again...” he frowns slightly “are you... am I interrupting your date?” He says the word date with a questioning tone.

  “No. Well, Yes. But not with Marc”

  I swear he looks relieved, although a little confused. Can't really blame him. I'm nervous and being as clear as mud. I can feel the blush creep up my neck.

  “Liz and I are having a girly night – Marc rocked up, he's a bit drunk. I... I'm not sure what's taking Liz so long, she only went to use the restroom. She's probably being chatted up by someone up at the bar”

  “Oh... why don't I keep you company until Liz comes back?” he grins “Can't have a beautiful girl sitting alone”

  I roll my eyes at his utter cheesiness, but secretly I'm pleased. I take in his muscular form perched on the bar stool in front of me. As he reaches for his drink, he lets his hand brush mine making my skin tingle.

  I can't think straight with this guy around! I dip my head, taking a sip from my glass and my hair falls in front of my eyes. Aaron reaches over and tucks it back behind my ear like it's the most natural thing in the world. I take a quick breath in - my lady-bits are suddenly on fire.

  This is ridiculous; the man only touched me briefly. He grins mischievously at me as if he can tell my body is betraying me. I'm definitely red faced now. Beetroot better be in vogue this season.

  Aaron goes to collect his jacket from where he was sitting earlier, and my eyes follow him across the room. I can't believe how my body reacted to a simple touch, I felt bloody feral.

  As much as I was cursing her before, I'm now delighted Liz has been waylaid somewhere. Aaron's company is enthralling.

  My heart sinks when I spot Marc weaving his way back over towards me. I've had enough of this guy. I'm going to have to tell him straight up I'm not interested, he's not going to take a subtle hint.

  Marc arrives at my side and pulls a stool up really close, flashing a wicked smile at me. His overriding confidence, slight drunkenness and entitlement seem to make him immune to how uncomfortable I'm feeling.

  Over his shoulder I see Aaron turn around and raise his eyebrows at me. Taking advantage of how distracted I am, Marc puts a hand on my leg where it has no right to be and leans in for a kiss.

  “Don't!” the word flies out before I'm even aware I'm shouting. I yank my head back in alarm, forgetting I'm on precarious stool, and tip my
self over, landing on the floor in a heap. That bloody hurt! Hitting my head has made the migraine so much worse.

  A strong, muscled arm pulls me up to standing. I'm struggling to tear myself away when I realise the arm doesn't belong to Marc at all. A shiver of excitement goes through me - I'm now tucked in to Aaron's side.

  I've no idea how he got over here so quickly but to my horror he's now squaring off with Marc. Oh shit. I glance nervously between the pair of them. I don't do drama.

  “Leave her alone” growls Aaron “she's obviously not interested in your pathetic charms.”

  Marc rolls his eyes and inspects his nails “What is it to you, you big ugly beast? I think you'll find I'm perfectly charming enough.”

  They're standing nose to nose; one large framed and muscled, full of rugged manliness and the other looking sleek and refined with an air of graceful sophistication his counterpart distinctly lacks.

  Liz tugs my elbow “You've been having fun I see”.

  “Where the hell have you been?!” I hiss

  She shrugs non-committally smirking then peers at me closer “You really don't look well doll, is it those blasted migraines?”

  I nod as gently as I can, nauseated at even the dim lighting in the place now.

  “Home time” Liz instructs “Leave these two to macho it out.”

  Chapter Seven

  Aaron's POV

  I'm waiting for Tavey to arrive at the bistro when a piney scent wafts into my nostrils – Freya! My head snaps up and I scan the room for a sign of her. Out of the corner of my eye I catch a flick of some gorgeous red hair and my wolf stirs excitedly.

  Freya looks up and straight at me, her piercing green eyes fire up my wolf even more. Standing beside her is Marciel de Vaudou, heir-apparent to the Coven. My wolf growls loudly, instantly jealous.

  The ladies sitting next to me look alarmed – shit, was that growl out-loud?! By the time I excuse myself past them Marciel has vanished. I fucking hope they're not dating. Freya deserves far better than that sleaze-ball.

  Her scent is intoxicating and, before I know it, I'm across the bar and in front of her. Her blushing smiles tell me she definitely feels the connection too, despite being human.

  When I touch her, her body responds instantly. The scent of her arousal sends my wolf wild. I can't think straight, I use the excuse of grabbing my coat and wallet to get a better grip on my control.

  Attracted to me or not, she's not going to take kindly to me jumping her bones in the middle of a bistro, and it's not like she'll understand an alpha's urges.

  I reach my original table and take some calming breaths before turning to sneak a glance at her. I nearly loose it completely when I glance up. Marciel has his grubby little hands on MY girl.

  I see her pull herself away from him and overbalance. I dash back across the bar. Even although I'm using shifter speed and risking detection, there's no way I can catch her in time. Her head hits the ground with a sickening crack.

  I grab her up and pull her into my side, cradling her to me. I've never felt my wolf this protective over someone I barely know. I'll fucking tear Marciel limb from limb for this.

  The shit is as arrogant and aggravating as I remember. I have to remind myself he's also dangerous. I doubt he'll use his magic in the middle of a bunch of humans, but these days I wouldn't put much past the Coven. I step slightly in front of Freya, shielding her.

  I sense him probing at my thoughts, trying to incapacitate me. I quickly build a wall in my mind, blocking him. It's the best defence we have against the Coven's mind-control but I haven't practised much recently - I don't know how long I can sustain this.

  I reach out and grab his shoulder shoving him backwards, hard. Brute force might be the best way out of this – I can already see the bartender signalling to the doorman.

  Marciel's wiry frame barely stumbles before he rights himself. He throws a punch, boosted by some kind of majik which propels me into a nearby table, sending it flying.

  I sense Freya slipping away out the bar. I'm just glad she's out of Marciel's reach. I feel my fangs descend at the thought of her being harmed and I fling myself at Marciel.

  I manage to get in a good couple of gut punches before I realise that the doorman is attempting to separate us. His strength is pitiful, and I suspect Marciel barely registered him too.

  Glaring we each back away, neither willing to out ourselves publicly as having super-human strength. We allow ourselves to be manhandled out different doors and into the night. I will fucking flatten him if he lays a hand on Freya again.

  Chapter Eight

  Freya's POV

  These migraines are getting steadily worse. I can't even admit to Liz just how badly they're affecting me. I feel bat-shit crazy with it, and it's not only the lack of sleep. My vision blurs, half my face goes numb, and then the pain hits. It's like an elephant sitting on my head, and bouncing. I tried googling and most of the symptoms sound like a migraine.

  What doesn't fit with a simple migraine is the weird 'awake dreams' I keep getting. It's a swimming kaleidoscope of vivid images which flash in front of my vision. They last seconds, and only when the migraine is at its worst.

  When I'm feeling rational I can accept its just my brain having a weird reaction to pain – the brain can do some really fucked up shit. But today it's making me feel like I'm one step away from a psychiatric ward.

  Hiding the effects of my migraines from Liz is pretty bloody easy at the moment. She knows I get them, but she's all caught up in the rush of her new relationship. Luckily it means she's less likely to turn up out of the blue on the doorstep. She has picked up that I'm pretty miserable, and I really am - being in pain is demoralizing. Liz however has decided my misery is romance related. I mean it's not helping but … when she offered pester Tavey for Aaron's phone number, I wasn't about to dissuade her.

  Liz didn't tell Tavey who the number was for, in case I changed my mind, but Tavey gave in to her charms quickly, admitting his friend could really do with some female company. That perked my ears up – I'm glad he doesn't have a gaggle of girls trailing after him. Not that I have any claim on the guy, but just maybe I might have a chance with the hunk of a man.

  Simply having his number on a little scrap of paper has given me a thrill all day today. I really need to take a deep breath, listen to my gut, and send him a bloody message.

  Three agonising days, six additional hours, multiple rewrites and several bitten nails later I finally press send on a three-line text message during my lunch break. When there's no reply by the time lunch is over I slip my phone back into my pocket in disappointment, before heading back to work.

  The library has a strict no mobile phones policy. It's my policy, I wrote it. But when I feel the small vibration inside my cardigan there is not a chance in hell I'm not about to break my own rules.

  I glance around at the students, no-one is currently misbehaving. Since that never lasts long I quickly slip into the office.

  Taking a deep breath, I have to remind myself it could be someone else – Liz, or highly unlikely, my mum. I peek at the screen and let out an excited squeak when I see it's a message from Aaron. I clap my hand over my mouth - there is no way in hell the students didn't hear that.

  In the next instant the building's electronics go haywire. This is not simply the usual flickering lights we've had to put up with recently, this is full blown chaos. It's like some malignant ghost has gotten into the electrics.

  The lights flash manically, my computer screen gets brighter and brighter before it dies in a puff of smoke, and the school's only working photocopier gives out a noise like a strangled cat and spits out screeds of blank paper.

  I dash back into the main library to find the students delighted – any distraction is always welcomed, but this?! This calls for shrieking, mock panic and a stampede into the hallway leaving me standing alone, surrounded by the chaos.

  One of my favourite students, a young lad with trousers like flagpoles,
a permanently grubby face, and sparkly eyes, sticks his head back in.

  “Miss! The lights in the hall are fucked too! The whole building's going ape-shit!” he gleefully exclaims before clapping his hand over his mouth and rapidly retreating.

  The students all know swearing in front of Miss Faye isn't tolerated. It's my own private joke – I'm ten times worse than they are, especially when I'm with Liz.

  In the end, the whole school's electronics are buggered and it's way beyond the capabilities of the caretaker to fix. The headteacher sends the school home early – the students' excitement is beyond being controlled, and without any electricity it's probably dangerous to keep them here. Bliss!

  Just as I'm slipping out of the building, I see the caretaker muttering to himself about hoity-toity electricians who don't know shit about power surges. He spots me earwigging and lets out another outburst.

  “It's bloody unnatural. This ain't no fricking power surge!” He spits on the ground in frustration.

  I turn to hide my grin and mutter a quick goodbye, already planning to meet Liz for a cheeky afternoon coffee.

  Chapter Nine

  Freya's POV

  Curled up in the window seat, with my hands wrapped around a steaming winter-spice hot chocolate I peer over the top of the mug at a radiant Liz. I see a chance to get a word in edgeways and go for it.

  “So, it's going well with Tavey then?”

  “It issssss. Sorry, have I been talking about him all this time? It's just, he's so different, it's different with him...” Liz tries to explain pausing “I'm happy” she plumps for in the end.

  “Good! That's fucking awesome” I break into a genuine smile for my friend “I was worried you might turn into an old spinster like me”