Page 12 of Luna Ascending

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.

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