Moon Cursed (Wolf Hollow Shifters Book 4)

Home > Paranormal > Moon Cursed (Wolf Hollow Shifters Book 4) > Page 11
Moon Cursed (Wolf Hollow Shifters Book 4) Page 11

by Nikki Jefford


  Zackary launched himself at the mad wolf, punching him on the side of his head before jabbing his thick arm under Vallen’s throat to get him into a chokehold. Vallen released Tabor’s hand and darted forward before Zackary could get him in his full grip.

  The ear-splitting crack of the gun thundered through the room as Sasha took another shot at Vallen. He flew out the front door on four paws.

  “Damn it!” Sasha said, scowling at the door.

  “I’ll go,” Zackary said. Not waiting for her consent, he crashed across the living room and out the door into the glaring sun. He spotted Vallen loping down the middle of the old road.

  Zackary got onto his hands and knees, ignoring the rough pavement scorching his bare skin. Shifting was a dumb idea, but it was his only chance of catching up to Vallen. Once he’d shifted into his fur, he took off in his father’s direction, quickly picking up his scent. Soon, Zackary had the rabid wolf in his sights.

  Vallen sprang over the pavement as though this was all a great game he enjoyed. The mad wolf didn’t try to lose Zackary behind houses or cars. He kept on running like a maniac on a marathon to the ends of the Earth.

  Zackary was so intent on catching up that he didn’t pay attention to his surroundings. It surprised him when cement turned to soil and the decrepit structures disappeared into an open expanse they’d entered between the small town and the city in the distance.

  They raced across the wasteland, Zackary’s wolf intent on one thing—killing Vallen.

  Baked earth crumbled beneath his paws. Searing heat made saliva drip from his lips.

  When Vallen stopped suddenly, Zackary slowed to a trot, the hair along the ridge of his back rising. Vallen snapped and snarled at him viciously.

  A jumble of hostility entered Zackary’s animalistic mind—all of it originating from Vallen.

  No good stupid mutt boy. Too big. Dangerous. Teach him his place. Obey. Mangy mongrel. Hot sun. Squirrels. Stars. Sun. Shade. Water. Kill. Obey. Dumb mutt following me. Kill first before he kills me.

  Zackary growled. Rage flooded his wolf’s body.

  A howl rose up from the direction of the suburbs he’d left behind. Zackary stopped growling, his ears twitching at Sasha’s call for him to return.

  Vallen made several snarling sounds that sounded like wicked laughter.

  Sasha’s next howl was more demanding. She wanted an answer.

  Zackary’s lips drew up as he stared his father down. Vallen was in his sights. He couldn’t turn around now. He just couldn’t.

  Vallen’s wolf lips lifted into a cruel smile. His eyes gleamed when he gave a low snarl before turning and racing away.

  Indecision rooted Zackary in place, especially when Sasha howled a third time. He lifted his head and bellowed a reply.

  Get back here, Sasha’s next howl demanded.

  Zackary pawed the dirt, snarling in frustration. A beetle paused in its tracks, holding very still as Zackary’s nostrils flared over the ground.

  Dust clouds rose in the distance as Vallen made his escape, dashing toward the city. Maybe whatever humans were left would put him down. With a final huff, Zackary lifted his head and howled back to Sasha.

  He’d used up a lot of energy going after Vallen and hadn’t realized how far he’d traveled. The way back felt longer and hotter. His temper flared on repeat.

  Back in the suburb, he sniffed out Sasha and Tabor in a neighborhood several blocks from the home where Vallen had attacked. Tabor followed Sasha around in his wolf form, which had no injuries since he hadn’t panicked and partially shifted while under attack. Zackary imagined his human wounds were bad, though. He’d likely wait until they returned to the hollow to work on healing himself. Hopefully his human hand wasn’t mangled permanently.

  Zackary called to his human side, commanding his fur to recede and limbs to thicken and elongate. Once a man again, he got to his feet and blinked several times, taking in Sasha’s movements. She set a stuffed black duffel bag on the cracked sidewalk.

  “I had to leave this behind on the last supply run,” she explained, intent on the bag. “Aden, Jack, and Farley left similar bags. We’ll carry back as much as we can.” She moved swiftly to a house across the street.

  As Zackary jogged up to her side, Tabor growled. Ignoring the wolf, Zackary hurried his pace to keep up with Sasha.

  “I had Vallen in sight. I could have kept after him.”

  “No,” Sasha said firmly. She hurried into the shade beneath the decayed awning of the house before stopping to stare directly into Zackary’s eyes. “It’s not safe for you to go after him alone, especially not in wolf form.”

  Zackary felt a tingling of appreciation that she cared what happened to him, but he still wasn’t convinced Sasha had made the right call.

  “Is Tabor okay?” he asked her, not looking at the wolf.

  Sasha pursed her lips and stole a quick glance at her four-legged mate. Her gaze lifted back to Zackary. “Vallen took us by surprise. We didn’t hear so much as a snarl before he leapt out from behind an overturned sofa. I think he was crouched down waiting. Fortunately, Tabor was standing in front of me.” Sasha placed her hand on her belly and sighed. “I hate to admit it, but Jager was right. I should not have gone after Vallen in my condition.” The eager glance she aimed down the road made it look like she still longed to track down the rabid wolf. She moistened her lips. “Which direction did he head?”

  “Toward the city.”

  “It would have been no use pursuing him then. Not worth the risk.” Sasha pushed her way into the house, returning a moment later with a large backpack and a strained smile. “At least our trip won’t be a total waste. Packmates will be thrilled to have new clothes to pick from.”

  She went back inside, disappearing for several minutes before returning with a white discolored square plastic box. A faded red symbol marked the top of the box with words no longer legible—not that Zackary would have been able to read them even if they’d been freshly printed.

  Shame fell over Zackary’s mind like a thick shadow. Most of his packmates had been taught to read by their parents. Vallen hadn’t bothered. Big surprise. His mother had sung him the alphabet song when he was a boy and written out the letters in the dirt with a stick. Fat lot of good that did without learning how to arrange them into actual words. And it had peeved him that the letter of his name came last. Always last.

  Sasha pried the lid open in front of him.

  “Medical supplies,” she announced.

  They both lowered their heads to look inside. Zackary recognized the roll of gauze. He’d seen it used on injured friends growing up. There were other instruments and materials he wasn’t familiar with. One was a small, thin finger-length piece of metal. Jager and Palmer would be able to identify its uses.

  Sasha crouched beside the backpack and unfastened the top. She emptied the contents of the box and tried to stuff them into the backpack, but it was already too full. Sasha pulled clothes out, sifting through them quickly. She tossed aside a bright red shirt. Next she lifted what looked like a dress, extra thin with lace on top and along the hem. “Farley,” Sasha said with a snort and an eye roll. “I told him no bringing home useless gifts for his mate.” She flung the scrap onto the scorched lawn.

  Appearing satisfied with what she’d discarded, Sasha stuffed the medical supplies into the backpack.

  A low growl rumbled through Tabor’s throat. It was his intent glare at the road that made Zackary and Sasha go still.

  Ever so quietly, Sasha removed her hands from the supply backpack before pulling hers off and reaching in. She handed Zackary a gun before taking the second firearm.

  A bark sounded from the overgrown shrubbery across the street. Tabor barked back and flicked his tail. A tail wag would have indicated packmates approaching, but the low growl communicated mistrust, though not fear. He didn’t snarl in warning.

  Tabor stood his ground in front of Sasha. She and Zackary held their weapons ready. Some time passed
before a male voice yelled from across the street, hidden from view.

  “My brother and I are wolf shifters. It’s just the two of us come to see if you need help. We heard some frantic howls earlier.”

  Sasha’s lips curled back. “How about you and your brother step out where we can see you?”

  “How about you lower your firearms?” The next voice sounded sarcastic and gruff. If Zackary had to guess, he’d say that it wasn’t from the male who had spoken first. Both males had accents Zackary was not familiar with.

  Sasha lowered her gun, nodding at Zackary to do the same. He mirrored her movements, keeping it gripped at his side.

  “They’re lowered,” she called.

  They waited until, several moments later, two light brown males emerged naked from the brush. They were muscular and slightly above average height. One had thick dark wavy hair that reached his shoulders. Both had scruff along their cheek bones and chins, along with faint mustaches.

  The one with shoulder-length hair smiled and lifted his hand. “Hola amigos!”

  chapter ten

  Despite the friendly smiles on the males, Zackary tensed, not liking the way they swaggered forward. Tabor gave another low growl. The males stopped about six feet away.

  “Where did you come from? What are you doing in this area?” Sasha asked.

  The one with the shorter hair snorted. “Hola to you too.” He looked Sasha up and down, which made Tabor snarl.

  The one with the shoulder-length hair placed a hand on his chest, still smiling. “I am Diego, and this is my brother Rafael. We’ve traveled from the south.”

  “Where’s the rest of your pack?” Sasha asked.

  Rafael jutted his chin and flexed. “We have no pack. We’re nomads. Purebloods. We run free.”

  Sasha’s expression softened. “Oh,” she said, voice lifting. “I’m a pureblood as well.”

  The brothers shared a loaded stare before returning their attention to Sasha with renewed interest. Tabor started toward them, snarling.

  “Tabor!” Sasha snapped.

  He stopped in his tracks but didn’t stop growling at the men.

  “Was your packmate hurt?” Diego asked, nodding at Tabor.

  “Tabor is my mate, and yes, his human form is wounded.”

  “Mate,” Diego repeated. He looked at Rafael, who shrugged. Diego returned his attention to Sasha. “Are there more purebloods in your pack?”

  “One male, also mated.”

  “That’s it?” Diego scrubbed his jaw.

  Sasha narrowed her eyes. “Why?”

  Rafael jutted his chin forward. “What’s with the backpacks? You three on a camping trip?”

  “We were hunting down a rabid wolf who has killed several pack members over the years and turned a few mad,” Sasha said, pulling at her hair. “Unfortunately, he harmed my mate and got away.”

  “So, you’re headed back to your pack?” Diego asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Can we join you? We won’t stay long.”

  Sasha stared at the brothers for several moments, never once turning to Zackary. He didn’t expect her to. She was a pureblood and a council member—used to making decisions on her own. Zackary didn’t want these strangers in Wolf Hollow, even though they were fellow wolf shifters. But it wasn’t his call.

  “Why are you interested in other purebloods?” Sasha asked.

  Rafael grunted. “My brother has decided he’s ready for a mate. We prefer to migrate and have been searching for a pureblooded female who can give him pups, not squalling babies who would make us vulnerable and slow us down.”

  Zackary had never seen it with his own eyes, but he’d been told that a pureblooded female, impregnated by a pureblooded male, was the only kind of wolf shifter who birthed pups in wolf form. Once pregnant, the female couldn’t shift out of her wolf form until after the birth of her pureblooded pups. Even then, she was likely to remain in fur during the first year when her pups remained animals before having the ability to shift to skin. Their instincts were sharp, their minds and bodies stronger than the average shifter. Purebloods had been surviving in the wild before the fall of civilization. They preferred living off the land and sleeping beneath the stars.

  Non-pureblooded wolf shifters, on the other hand, were stuck in skin until their twelfth year, when they were first able to make the shift from human to wolf.

  Sasha pursed her lips in thought. “As far as I know, Hailey from the Glenn Meadows pack is still unmated. She and her brother Hector are the only younger unmated purebloods left in this area. They are located a five-day run from Wolf Hollow.”

  “Wolf Hollow is your pack?” Rafael asked.

  “Yes, we’re headed home now. You can help carry bags.”

  Rafael frowned. “What’s in them?”

  “Clothing.”

  “Why bother?”

  “It’s the way of our pack.”

  “It’s the way of humans,” Rafael said, staring at Sasha in her dress.

  “We are part human,” Sasha retorted.

  Diego placed his hand on Rafael’s shoulder. “Hermano,” he coaxed.

  Rafael rolled his eyes before turning back to Sasha. “Anything else you want us to carry? Some paintings perhaps to hang on your trees?” At Sasha’s snarl, Rafael winked. Even though she wasn’t his mate, it set Zackary’s teeth on edge. He didn’t want these purebloods sniffing around the females of Wolf Hollow. He especially didn’t want him winking at Elsie or teasing her or making her smile or even looking in her direction. Zackary didn’t know how to flirt, and this pureblood clearly did.

  Rafael swung his gaze at Zackary and smirked. “What about you, hombre? Do you not wear clothes? Is it only the females in your pack? You tell them to cover up or some shit?”

  Diego folded his arms and narrowed his eyes at Zackary.

  Sasha gave an exasperated huff. “He’s naked because he left the hollow in wolf form to sniff out the rabid one.” She glanced from side to side. “We’ve lingered in the suburbs too long. Grab the bags and let’s get a move on it.”

  Rafael looked Sasha up and down again. “We didn’t catch your name.”

  “Sasha,” she said. “Now let’s go.”

  She lifted her head and whizzed past them. Tabor stayed behind, keeping a sharp eye on the brothers.

  Rafael leaned close to his brother and said, “Si, she’s a pureblooded female all right. Bossy.”

  “Shush,” Diego scolded.

  “You sure you want to add something like that to our dynamic?”

  “Strong women don’t scare me.” Diego gave Rafael a playful shove.

  Their chuckles died off when they noticed Zackary glaring at them.

  “Like Sasha said, it’s time to go,” he said grabbing the large backpack off the ground.

  “I can take that.” Diego pulled the backpack out of Zackary’s arms before he could answer. He was the friendlier of the two brothers, but that didn’t make Zackary like him any more. “What is your name, hombre?”

  “Zackary.”

  Diego put his muscled arms through the straps of the backpack and gave his shoulder-length hair a shake, grinning. He looked good and he knew it. Both brothers were way too pretty . . . attractive in the way females appreciated. They were tall, toned, and muscular. Just the right size, unlike Zackary who was too big and bulky, according to his father.

  “You’d make a female cry in pain before ever coming close to giving her pleasure.”

  “You have a mate waiting for you back home?” Diego spoke over Vallen’s voice in his head.

  Zackary gritted his teeth. “No,” he answered gruffly before crossing the street to grab the duffel bag Sasha had left on the ground.

  Rafael had already snatched it up. He followed Sasha around, a joking lilt to his voice. “What about those wind chimes?” He pointed at rusted metal tubes dangling from the sunken overhang of a house. “Want me to grab those for you, Sasha?”

  Zackary was surprised when Sash
a laughed. Shaking her head, she turned to Zackary.

  “There should be another bag in that house there.” She nodded at a home with broken windows and a faded blue door.

  Zackary jogged over, relieved to find a backpack near the door. Bringing in fresh supplies would make the pack happy, but Zackary would have rather returned with news of Vallen’s demise.

  Once they’d loaded up, Sasha led the way out of the suburbs. Rafael walked beside her, talking incessantly while Tabor prowled behind him, ears often flattening against his head. Diego tried to make conversation with Zackary, but his short responses soon had the pureblood joining Sasha and Rafael.

  The brothers chattered on about their adventures across the continent while Sasha asked questions about all they’d encountered. The brothers ate up her attention, not shutting up for one damn second. Their voices droned on like a swarm of mosquitoes following the group incessantly. But Sasha appeared to delight in their company. Zackary had never heard her laugh so many times. He glanced at Tabor, who had his eyes on Rafael as though waiting for a reason to attack him.

  “What does Hailey of Glenn Meadows look like?” Diego asked.

  “I’ve never met her, only her brother,” Sasha answered.

  Rafael gave a loud whistle. “Is her brother the overly protective type?”

  Sasha grunted. “You can decide for yourself.”

  Zackary wished the brothers would head straight to Glenn Meadows rather than Wolf Hollow—even though they were helping carry supplies. They exuded confidence and never ran out of conversation. They made him feel dull in comparison.

  When they’d left the subdivision, blue sky stretched over their heads as far as the eye could see. But the late summer tugged on the sun, dragging the glowing sphere behind the mountains before they reached the base of the first hill.

  Sasha looked up. “We need to hurry if we want to make it to the Manama River before dark.”

  Somehow, Rafael still managed to blather on as Sasha set a grueling pace up the mountain.

 

‹ Prev