Soulmates | Derek Hale

fifteen.

I failed geography miserably so if anything's geographically wrong then you guys know why....

Ruth Connell plays Margo!

"Was it wise to leave them both at the villa?"

Peter and Maeve approached the villa in which the Accardi pack resided, whilst Maeve was riddled with anxiety, Peter was curious to what Maeve had signed them up for.

They'd been in Tuscany for almost a week, whilst Peter took vacation seriously and did nothing but relax and bother Maeve, Maeve had been fretting over meeting this healer the whole time.

"Dean is responsible," Maeve defended, "Luna's got her too large toy collection to organise in her room, that will occupy her for at least two hours."

"Only your child could be such a perfectionist," Peter teased, groaning as Maeve hit him in the stomach.

A slender brunette approached them, and Maeve quickly smiled politely at her, "Maeve Hale, right?"

"Yes! Hi," Maeve greeted, rolling her eyes at Peter looking around nosily, "This is Peter."

"I'm Alessa, my pack is the prominent pack of our area," Alessa introduced, shaking Maeve's hand, "We've heard of the Hales, you're famous around here."

Maeve blinked in surprise, squeaking, "We are?"

This time Peter rolled his eyes. Maeve never failed to surprise him.

"It's an honour to help such a pack as yours," Alessa continued, guiding them through a courtyard to a small cottage, "This is where Margo lives. She's a bit vague but means well."

Alessa pushed open the wooden door, motioning for them to enter, "Margo, the Hales are here!"

Maeve and Peter walked into the purple painted room, crystals and feathers hung from the ceiling, a range of shells and stones decorating the wooden furniture.

Margo, a ginger haired middle aged witch, looked Peter and Maeve up and down, beckoning them over to an armchair and a medical table covered in a cream cloth, "come sit."

Peter looked hesitantly at the table, but Margo smiled encouragingly, sitting on her desk, "Needn't to worry, I am a qualified doctor."

"You said she was a witch," Peter whispered to Maeve as she sat on the armchair, "And I thought she was Italian."

"I am, a witch that is, i'm also Scottish," Margo caught on, watching Peter carefully,  "you must be Peter, he is the one I'm healing, yes?"

"Yes," Maeve began, fiddling with her floral sundress anxiously, "There was a fire seven years ago-"

"No need to tell, dear, we all heard of the fire," Margo interrupted, squinting at Maeve suspiciously, "It is surprising you are not here for treatment as well."

Maeve frowned, trying not to think of her mental state. It had taken years to deal with what happened with the fire, but Maeve couldn't say she was over it.

"You've let the wolf take over," Margo stated, approaching Peter.

"You can tell that by just looking at me?" Peter raised his brows, Maeve sighed, smacking his leg.

"Peter!" Maeve hissed, "Be nice."

"It is in your aura, boy, your human soul is trapped," Margo picked up his hand, trailing up his arm where burns used to lay,  "scarred even."

Maeve shuffled in her chair uncomfortably, "Can you help him?"

"If he wants to be helped," Margo replied, "He must heal himself."