London Mates: Paranormal Romance Collection by Lola Gabriel

Author:Lola Gabriel [Gabriel, Lola]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Published: 2020-05-31T16:00:00+00:00

Cayden: Alpha Wolf of London

1

Cayden

There was a sharp knock on Cayden’s chamber door. He opened his eyes, and then closed them again. The curtains were open a crack, and bright midday sun was streaming through. It was, Cayden was sure, aimed right at his eyes. He pulled the blankets up over his head and grunted.

From his cave of breath and sweat, he heard the door of his room open.

“Up!” demanded a husky, Irish female voice. “Cayden, I swear by all that is holy, you are not too old for me to drag you out of that fetid nest of yours!”

Again, Cayden groaned, but then he poked his head out of the blankets. “What time is it?” he asked, propping himself up on his elbows.

The middle-aged, thickset woman in the doorway checked her watch. She always wore the face on the inside of her wrist—don’t want people spying on my time, or that was what she had told Cayden when he was a boy.

“Sun’s been up in the sky a while, I’ll tell you that.”

“Nanny…” Cayden tried, in his best wheedling voice, but she marched across the room and hit him hard across the feet, which were still under the blankets. “You’re beyond grown, Cayden. Mrs. Cruikshanks. As you know well. Now up, Ali’s lass is arriving today and you’re in no fit state for company.”

Cayden rolled his eyes, but not distinctly enough for Mrs. Cruikshanks to notice. She stood at the end of his bed, arms crossed. “In fact,” she said, “I already chased some company out earlier. A couple of young women looking for coffee and, as it seemed, half their clothes. I offered them some spare coats.”

This actually perked him up. He sat higher against his pillows and yawned. “Thanks, Cruikshanks, you really do make my life easier.”

Mrs. Cruikshanks shook her head. “Poor idiots,” she said. “Now, feet on the rug, Cayden.”

“I’m not…” Cayden waved vaguely at the bottom half of himself, still covered by blankets. Mrs. Cruikshanks shrugged and tapped one booted foot. “Cover your dingly danglies, or don’t. You think I’ll be worried? I wiped your arse for two years, child.”

Cayden relented. He swung his legs out of the bed, holding the blankets in place over his knees, and planted his feet on the ground.

Mrs. Cruikshanks nodded. “Coffee’ll be ready in ten, and so will you be,” she said, and she left the room. She was deceptively quick for a woman of five-foot-nothing, almost as wide as she was tall. The legend was she’d been turned by accident during a raid on a human village, but when Cayden had asked her, when he was a teenager, how she had become a werewolf, and, more specifically, why she was so old, she had smiled at him and told him she had taken a lupine lover in middle age. Of course, this had just been to freak him out and to stop him asking questions. And it had worked. She had been his nanny, and now she was

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