15. Awakened

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Monophobia 15

Slightly mature content...

Cariel's POV:

"Carriel." his voice was the first thing I heard when I started to return back to consciousness. My head was a fuzz and the voices seemed to be coming from everywhere all at once. I seamed to be floating in endless darkness.

"She needs to rest some more Tristan. It takes time to truly heal completely." a new voice seeped in, sounding more distinct.

"It's been more than three days, you said she should be up by now." Tristan continued sounding closer and to the right. His voice kept moving like he was pacing back and forward.

"I said, the healing should begin completion by day three not-"

"It's almost eight at night, four days later, she should be up! You said they usually awaken by the third day! That was yesterday Logan."

"Her situation was much more crucial than anyone I've ever treated. It's only reasonable that she would take slightly longer to heal." Logan replied sounding cross.

I'm finally able to open my eyes and find the elderly man, who seemed to be in his late sixties, his hair already cloaked in the white mist of age.

He was huge and towered up, almost as tall as Tristan. But he was wide, and looked more like Santa Claus, if Santa ever cutt the long beard and had surfer long white hair.

"Two days longer is not 'slightly longer' Logan!" Tristan stepped up growling in his face, eyes vicious. "If anything happens to her goddamît, I swear I will-"

"Patience lover-boy your girlfriend will be up soon." a new voice joined from down the hall, as a girl arrived, with a bowl of cereal in her hand.

Fiery red curls were up in a ponytail. Her slim yet incredibly fit form clad in a pair of black jeans and a matching black tank top. What is with these people and black?

"She is not my girlfriend" Tristan hissed out the words through clenched teeth. His posture was rigid jaw tight. I couldn't help the tiny ripple that ran down my spine at the idea.

Tristan didn't exactly "date" like the definition of the word. He more maneuvered through girls. From one to the other till he got bored or tired or whatever.

"Right. But you are practically spewing pheramones when it comes to her. All possessive alpha dog and what-not." red head rolled her eyes smirking.

Tristan fully turned to her now, eyes blank as his shoulders with some effort relaxed. I'd seen this shift much too often to not know the next words to leave his lips would be rude and uncaring. He didn't disappoint.

"You shouldn't comment since you can't help but spread your legs for actual dogs." Tristan smirked cruely and her eyes flared wild.

"Werewolves are not dogs!" she hissed.

"With you, I doubt it would matter if it was three chihuahuas or even a horse."

"They are my mates you inconsiderate prick! Fuçking watch your mouth Starkz before I take scissors to your balls!"

"Three pairs of dog balls already not enough for you?" Tristan lifted an eyebrow as the girl seethed looking ready to do as she had threatened.

"Tris-" I began, trying to stop him. Nobody knew as well as me how much Tristan could be an ass sometimes. Especially when he is frustrated or angry or in an overall pissed off mood.

My voice however came out barely audible and sounded about as terrible as I felt. That didn't stop three pairs of eyes-Tristan, the seething girl and Logan-from snapping over to me as soon as the tiny sound left me.

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