The Human Alpha

Chapter Two. Advice.

Chapter Two. Advice.

Hannah’s Point of View.

“Come on Hannah, live a little,” Carlton grins at me, as I take a bite of my ham and cheese panini. Walking down Bond Street, heading towards Oxford Circus, avoiding the gaggle of people as they rush about their business.

“Look, you are a 28-year-old woman, in the prime of your life, living like a nun. For what? A mate that you may not have. You need to get out there, you are not going to live for hundreds of years, and you are wasting your life hauled up in that apartment, working, and longing to get back home. Come out, meet people, you may even find a man to pop your cherry with,” he continues.

I shake my head, regretting my choice to tell my only friend in London about my virginal status, and that I have made a choice to wait for my mate. However, he is right. I am human, and I am not guaranteed to find a mate, who, after he sinks his teeth into me, will reverse the signs of time on my face, and slow down my ageing to match his own. Maybe I am wasting time, holding on to a hope and a dream, and I need to put myself out there.

“It is a Friday night, come out with me to Slone’s Bar. You are a gorgeous woman, hell, if I weren’t the biggest, campest, gay man you could ever find, I would totally do you,” Carlton winks, making me laugh at him, as a long string of cheese pulls from my panini and hangs down my chin.

Classy!

I grab a napkin and move the rogue cheese, and place it down, as Carlton looks at me battering his long eyelashes, that frame is light green eyes, pleading with me.

“Okay, I will come and have a few drinks,” I relent as he claps his hands with joy, then moves his rainbow-coloured tie from where he had thrown it over his shoulder and wipes his own mouth with the paper napkin, discarding it into a black bin we pass.

“So, what are you doing this afternoon?” Carlton asks me.

“I have a meeting with James, to ask him again why he chose the Bartlet i***t for this job. Then I have to work on tweaking my proposal for Albert.” I sigh, knowing that no matter what changes I make to allay his safety concerns, the man will still find a reason to oust my proposal.

“Leave the tweaking till tomorrow and replace it with some twerking. After your meeting you need to go get those split ends done my girl, and find something fabulous to wear, that will showcase your t**s and arse!” he grins at me.

“I swear you sound more and more like my cousin Becca every day,” I laugh at him.

“Well, we are both queens,” Carlton laughs, referring to his once-upon-a-time job as a drag queen, before heading to Westminster. He runs his hand through his perfectly cut, short hair that is a shade too dark to be classed as sandy blonde, and a shade too light to be light brown. Not that he has ever met Becca or any of my family, but it is his job to know who’s who, with the werewolf royals.

I must admit, having some ‘girly’ time sounds heavenly, however, I would much prefer to do it with my girls. Being alone and getting hair and nails done, and ready for a night out is nowhere near as much fun. However, my hair is desperate for a cut, and maybe a facial will help keep these fine lines and wrinkles at bay for a little while longer.

Reaching Oxford Circus, we head down the stairs negotiating the throng of people, to catch the tube on the Victoria line, to Green Park, before changing to the Jubilee line tube that will take us back to work. It is a pain in the arse catching two tubes, but worth it because the panini from the small sandwich shop located between Bond Street and Oxford Circus is the best in London.

I say my goodbyes to Carlton and promise to meet up with him at Slone’s bar at eight tonight, and head to the Prime Minister's office. Knocking on the door, his baritone voice shouts for me to come in.

“Hannah, lovely to see you. Take a seat,” James smiles warmly at me.

“How did it go with Albert this morning?" he asks.

I let out an audible sigh, shaking my head as he nodded his head in understanding of the silent exchange.

“Can I be frank, Prime Minister?” I ask as he looks at me with a smirk on his once handsome face.

“Hannah, you normally are, so why change the habit of a lifetime,”

I give a slight laugh at his analogy because he is spot on. I am not one to shy away from a heated discussion. I am never afraid to stand my ground either. Hell, I was brought up in a pack of werewolves, and let me be honest, even if we were all human, there is not a shrinking violet amongst us. Although my mother was shy and reserved before she met my Dad, she certainly isn’t now. You cannot be best friends with Chloe Colton and not be able to say your piece.

“Why the hell did you put that old fart as minister for inter-species relations?” I growl out in frustration.

“I know, it might feel like I have shot myself in the foot, but trust me, I believe you can win the old fart who is younger than me, by the way, round. One thing about Albert is once he gets to know and trust you, he is fiercely loyal and will fight tooth and nail for you. You and he will make a great ally, when I retire,” James smiles at me.

“Are you retiring?” I ask.

Not that he doesn’t deserve to retire, he has been Prime Minister for over fifteen years, and before that was an officer in the British Army. James Clarkson has served his country well, and if anyone deserves a break, it is him. But still, to lose my support from this man is not something I relish the thought of.

“I will not stand for my seat in the next election. It is time for me to pass the baton. We are a democracy, yet with the same party, and the same head of that party in power for so long, it is only time before the powers behind the scenes start raking for dirt on me and turn the support into outrage. I want to leave on my terms, and it is time. Now, this thing with Albert, you need to win him round. I know you will Hannah because he will be your saviour when I am gone. Trust me on that,” James smiles at me.

I sit in the hairdresser, as the woman cutting my hair chatters on about holidays. I would love a holiday, a break from the day-to-day. Maybe I should tell King Asher when I get back that I am ready to burn out. I know my cousin will let me take some time. I could head to Scandinavia, back to Helsingør and spend some time with Becca. Or maybe visit Phoenix, in Spain, after I have spent a good few days with Mam, Dad, Zan, Bea and the pups. It is coming up to Froggie Day soon, and I do not want to miss that. I smile politely, as she finishes off the long layers in the lengths of my hair, which is now hanging to just above my bra strap, rather than down to my waist. It feels lighter and looks healthier. After it is blow-dried and curled, ready for my night out, I pay and tip the woman, before making my way back to my pokey apartment, so that I can find an outfit for the evening.

Rummaging through my wardrobe, I really cannot decide what will look best. Although I am still very slim, I am not quite as toned as I once was, when training with the pack day in and day out. There is only one person to call when having a wardrobe crisis, and I pick up my phone and video call Becca, queen of the Scandinavian werewolves.

“Hannah! I miss your face,” Becca declares as she answers the call.

“Not as much as I miss yours,” I sigh, unable to keep the melancholy from my voice.

“Well, Fredrick and I are heading over the Crescent Moon, next week with the pups for a few days. We will still be here when you arrive,” my cousin grins, and the thought of being with her along with the rest of my family cheers my soured mood.

“I am glad to hear that. Now, I am having a fashion crisis, and I am heading out to a bar tonight for drinks,” I inform her.

“The House of CB dress I bought you, the electric blue one. It will fit like a glove, and looks gorgeous on you,” Becca informs me, grinning like the Chesire Cat.

“Are you sure, it is a little tight, and I am not quite as toned as I once was,” I sigh.

“Certain, and you are still f*****g stunning girl, so no more of this lack of confidence shite. Now, wear the dress, have some fun, and I will see you in two weeks. Got to go though, Margi is looking after the pups tonight, and Fredrick is lighting up the BBQ, so I am off to nibble on his sausage,” Becca giggles as I laugh at her.

“Love you, see you soon,” I smile at my cousin, who looks so happy and contented, a stark change from how she had looked after rejecting and killing her first evil mate. Her second chance mate brings joy to all our hearts because he brought our girl back to life.

“Yeah, and wear that dress, seriously you will look sexy as f**k,” Becca shouts as she waves, then hangs up the phone.

I pull on the dress, after moisturising every last inch of my skin, and applying a light make-up, then grabbing my clutch I head out to the waiting black cab, ready to make the most of a night out with Carlton and have a little fun for once.