Hannah Pole - Song Of The Wolf

1 London Bridge Street London SE1 9GF First published in Great Britain by HQ in 2013 Copyright © Hannah Pole 2013 Hannah Pole asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work. A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library. This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins. E-book Edition © November 2013 ISBN: 9781472054746 Version date: 2018-10-30

Author Bio HANNAH POLE says: I am a born and bred wild child. (I like to think so anyway!) I moved to sunny Folkestone to escape and find my feet as, well, whatever I was destined to be. But, alas, my short attention span made finding my destiny a little difficult. One day I came across an old diary entry that made me laugh so hard I actually fell off my chair. (Yes, this really can happen!) I decided that the entry was so funny; it needed to be shared with the world. So I started writing, and attempted to turn it into a novel. Though to this day that novel remains unfinished, it will always be the novel that got me started, and showed me what I was passionate about. I have aspired to be everything from a private investigator to a zoo keeper; my interests change so quickly that I could never stick to one. Writing gives me the freedom to choose; I can be a cold-hearted assassin in love with a poet one day and the secret lesbian lover of a politician the next! All my life, I have had a strong, unwavering passion for anything supernatural, spiritual and slightly unexplainable. I love the idea that there can be something completely fantastical lurking beneath the confines of normality. So of course, mythical creatures of all shapes and sizes dominate most of my work. In a nutshell, I am a creative, crazy bean, living with my lovely husband and a house full of too many animals. I’ve always secretly wished I were a werewolf of some description, but have come to realise that I will have to settle for writing about them instead! I’m happiest in the sun with my head in a good book! All I can say from here is, I hope you like what you read!

Acknowledgements

Dedication

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Epilogue

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Alison wandered through the dense woodland surrounding her pack land enjoying the cool night air on her face. Tamriel and Leyth’s mating had been wonderful. Alison rejoiced in the fact that she was home and safe. But even as she thought it, her unease stirred, making her gut churn .

Something was very wrong; she just couldn’t quite put her finger on it .

Alison pushed her fears aside and wrapped her arms around her shivering body as she pressed onwards. The rest of the pack was far out in the woodland, in wolf form. They would be hunting and playing, as was pack custom after a mating. Yet since the bastard-High Lord (as her brother would put it) bound her soul against her will, her body was slowly dying. And what was worse, he’d bound the wolf half of her soul as well. She was no longer capable of shifting into her wolf counterpart. That in itself was one of fate’s cruelest twists. She truly mourned the loss .

Something shuffled in the bushes up ahead, making her jump. She told herself she was being ridiculous. She was on pack land after all. There was nowhere safer than here. It was probably one of the twins, Reylix or Taevyn messing around, trying to scare her in jest. They were so stupid sometimes. Nonetheless, the twisting ball of fear in her gut intensified and she got moving back towards the mansion. The bushes rustled once more .

Alison flinched. There was definitely someone there .

“Who’s there?” she squeaked, hoping and praying it really was one of the twins. More rustling was the only response. Alison tried harder to ignore her gut. She was just being silly; her entire pack was roaming the woodland tonight. Surely it was one of them! She quickly moved in an attempt to see who was in the bushes .

“Hello, little wolf.” The raspy voice slid through the night from behind the tree. Oh no… It couldn’t be… “Thought we wouldn’t find you here?” His putrid breath tainted the air .

Alison turned to run, opened her mouth to scream. Oh dear Maker NO! But before she could so much as squeak, a heavy leather-clad hand shot out of the night and wrapped around her mouth. Alison fought the surge of panic with everything she had, biting down on the hand and forcing her limbs into action. She had to get away NOW. But before she had a chance to even try, another man appeared from behind the tree, silver wire dripping from his grip. A knife was thrust against her throat. The cool metal bit into her skin so harshly that blood welled to the surface. But she didn’t care. Couldn’t care. She would rather die fighting than go back to the hell on earth these men had kept her in. They were some of the tuhrned. And the tuhrned were the Circle’s minions. If they were here it meant that that traitorous band of rebels was already back up and running. Good Maker, it meant the Circle must have a new leader .

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