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Fenrir’s Fate

by Lisa Oliver

Fenrir, ancient Norse god of wolf shifters, has had more centuries than he could count to become set in his ways. Can a cute little cat shifter from Vegas make him want to change them?

“Oh, no, oh, no, oh, no. I think I might have just punched my mate in his furry face. I’m so sorry.”

Dorian was on a great adventure in Montana when his campervan runs out of gas, and he finds himself stranded in the middle of nowhere. He didn’t expect to find a wolf, he didn’t anticipate hitting said wolf who had startled the living daylights out of him, and he definitely wasn’t prepared for when that same wolf just disappeared.

“It can’t be true. It just can’t be true.”

Fenrir was the first to admit he was set in his ways. It’s what made him dependable, reliable, and comfortable. He saw no need to change his ways, even after his pack deserted him. Coming across a cat shifter was a mild excitement in his day, but that didn’t mean he had to claim the man.

The Fates work in mysterious ways, but not even they were prepared for how stubborn Fenrir could be. It could take the efforts of Loki and Anubis, plus a spot of advice from Claude and Poseidon, to get these two on the path of Fated Mate happiness.

This story was written for a mature audience. Please store your e-content responsibly.

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Excerpt:

“The book. Yes.” Dorian almost squealed in delight. Not that anyone would mind, because he was on his own, but he reminded himself he had to be a fully-fledged responsible adult for five minutes, so Sweetpea could be fixed, and they could be on their way. “What would I look for. Oh, troubleshooting. That sounds the best idea.”

Dorian’s eyes scanned the page, looking between the pictures in the manual, and the lights on his dashboard. He was conscious of the fading light outside, and knew he needed to find somewhere to park up for the night. Preferably not in the middle of a gravel road that resembled a scene from a horror movie. “It’s not the brakes, it’s not transmission… does anyone even know what that is? Hmm, it’s not the lights on or a bulb missing… There.” Dorian stabbed the page. “It’s that one. Oh, yes, it does look like one of those pumps at a gas station. What does it…? oh, no.”

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Dorian stared at the light in horror, and then at the gauge next to the red light, and then back at the manual.  “Sweetpea, why didn’t you tell me you were running low on gas? Oh, no.” According to the manual, the light would’ve started flashing when it was down to the last thirty miles of fuel available. “I was watching the road so carefully. You knew that. I didn’t want to scratch your paintwork on the trees and branches. You had to know that. Didn’t you?”

It was getting really dark now. From memory, the last time Dorian had passed a gas station was at least an hour or more’s drive away. Pulling out his phone, Dorian checked for signal bars. There weren’t any. Of course, there wouldn’t be. So many horror movie scenarios could’ve been avoided if someone had been carrying a working cell phone.

Peering out of the windows, Dorian couldn’t see any lights outside either. “I have a bed,” he told himself as he firmly hit the door lock button, hearing them clunk. “I don’t need lights because my sweet animal side can see in the dark. I can pee into an empty bottle if I absolutely have to go…” he glanced outside again, “because I am not going out there in the dark. Oh, and I think there’s some cans of tuna and crackers in the cupboard in the back. Horror movie scenario averted, yes.”

Confident he had his sleeping, eating, and peeing arrangements in place, Dorian climbed over the seat into the back of the van again, blessing his short and slender stature. “A bigger man couldn’t do what I can do,” he reminded himself, because that was a positive as well, and Dorion was short on positives.

“At least no one is likely to be using this road, and if they do, maybe they’ll have some gas they could spare.” It wasn’t as though anyone could go past him because the campervan took up the whole width of the road. “Someone will come along.” Yes, Dorian was almost sure of it.

Look at me, having a great adventure, he thought two hours later as he settled down into bed. In the dark, with nothing but the wind and creaking trees for company, Dorian shut his eyes determined to sleep. Things always looked better in daylight. Always.

 

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About the Author

Lisa Oliver's first fiction book was The Reluctant Wolf, book one in the Cloverleah series. Since then she's written more than ninety other titles spanning a number of different series including Bound and Bonded, Stockton Wolves, Balance, The God's Made Me Do it, City Dragons, The Necromancer's Smile, and the Alpha and Omega series. A huge fan of the true mate trope, Lisa's books are all paranormal, all M/M (although a few M/M/M have crept in too) and all have an HEA.

When not writing, Lisa can be found with her nose in a book. Her adult children and grandchildren have found the best way to get her off the computer is to offer her chocolate.