Fighting for Her Wolves: A Reverse Harem Paranormal Romance (Hungry for Her Wolves Book 5)

by Tara West

  They found Bluebell on the outskirts of their thousand-acre ranch, grazing beside a large live oak.

  Bulwark let out an angry neigh to let the Longhorn know he was unhappy with her desertion. She swished her tail once and turned her back on him, not caring what he thought of her.

  Magnus swung off his horse and grabbed a bucket of feed, rattling the pellets inside and calling to the cow. She looked over her shoulder and then returned to her grass.

  Magnus threw down the food, kicking the can. “Goddamn stubborn female.”

  Raine bristled at Magnus’s tone. “You talking about the cow or Annie?” Because if it was Annie, he and Magnus would have a problem.

  Magnus shrugged and grabbed his rope. “Both.”

  Raine dismounted, eyeing his brother coolly. “You want a mate who hangs her head while our father abuses her?”

  “No.”

  “You want our father to treat our mate the way he treats you?” Raine prodded.

  Magnus’s cheeks turned as red as a Texas sunset. “I didn’t say that.”

  Raine threw up his hands. “Then how the fuck do you expect her to act?”

  “Did you come here to help with the cow or bitch at me?”

  Raine refused to relent. “She’ll go back to Alaska if we don’t do something.”

  Magnus expertly threw a rope around the cow’s head, deftly landing the loop around her horns and cinching it around her neck. “What do you expect me to do?” Tying the rope to his saddle horn, Magnus climbed back on Bulwark.

  Raine mounted his horse. “It’s time to put that madman in his place.”

  Magnus let out a sinister chuckle. “And do what with him?”

  Raine’s vision tunneled, and something inside him snapped. “Did you lose your fucking hand or your fucking spine, Magnus?”

  Magnus’s face went from red to purple, and his eyes looked ready to bulge from their sockets. “I lost my fucking mother!”

  “She was my mother, too, and we’ve never blamed you.” Raine’s heart clenched at the hopeless look in Magnus’s eyes.

  But pity quickly turned into resentment. He was sick and tired of catering to his father’s anger and his brother’s depression. This was no way to live, and their mate deserved better. He turned away, unable to stand the pathetic look in Magnus’s eyes another moment.

  Steeling himself, he resolved to try to reach him once more. “Stop punishing yourself, stop punishing us. Only the madman blames you.”

  “He’s our father,” Magnus whispered.

  “He’s an ignorant drunk.”

  When Magnus hung his head, Raine was unable to contain the litany of swear words that escaped his lips. “Fine,” he grumbled. “Our brothers and I will take care of him, but when the time comes, you’d better damn well back us.”

  He trotted back to the house. Let Magnus stew in his misery another night. Raine wanted no part in it.

  Chapter Six

  ANNIE SAT AT A TABLE in the bar, pleased when nobody asked for her ID. Not that she was intending on drinking, anyway. Her twenty-first birthday wasn’t for a few more months. She hid a smile when Roy ordered a beer, and the pretty waitress carded him. Though he was barely twenty-two, he had the same baby face from his middle school days.

  Roy slouched in his seat, casually looking around the place, which was covered with vintage memorabilia like cookie tins, old magazine covers, and license plates.

  He puffed up his chest. “Do you need me to buy you a beer?”

  “Aw, how cute.” She teased. “No, thanks. One of us needs to be the designated driver.”

  Truthfully, that wasn’t the reason she’d rejected his offer. Roy had been obsessing about paying for their night out all evening. Not out loud, but he’d been thinking it. She couldn’t help but invade his thoughts. He’d been so on edge when he’d picked her up. He was broke, thanks to having to pay for his dad’s room and board. Annie wondered if Roy’s father appreciated his son’s sacrifice. Annie couldn’t count the number of times she’d spoon-fed Roy Senior or changed his shitty colostomy bags. He hadn’t thanked her once. The only time he’d spoken was to tell her when she was doing it wrong. She had no idea where Roy had moved him to, but he should’ve left him at that state-run hospital.

  “Well, this is nice,” Roy said as he dunked a tortilla chip in salsa.

  “I guess so.” She dipped a chip, her attention shooting to Tor and Van, who were looking at her from behind their menus.

  “They’re only looking out for you, Annie.” He clasped her hand, his blue eyes foggy. “You’re lucky to have so many people who care about you.”

  “You’ve been melancholy lately.” She bit her chip, and the salsa exploded on her tongue in a symphony of cilantro, onion, garlic, and tomato. She leaned forward, narrowing her eyes. “What’s up?”

  She wondered if she’d ever get the nerve to tell him about her mind-reading powers. If he knew about her ability, their relationship would change. They’d finally reconnected after years apart. She couldn’t imagine losing him again. He was literally the best thing she had in the world, even better than her mates, who as far as she could tell, were too browbeaten and manipulated by Vidar for her to ever form any real connection with them.

  His shoulders fell. “It’s Father.”

  She arched a brow. “Your father?” It was more a statement than a question. She’d tried many times to get it across to Roy that Roy Senior wasn’t her father. Maybe if she said it enough times, he’d take the hint and stop talking about him.

  “Our father.” He flashed a tight smile. “He raised you, too.”

  She blinked hard. He couldn’t be serious. “He popped pills and felt sorry for himself while CPS took us away.”

  “He’s disabled,” Roy said, the hurt look on his face as if she’d just kicked his puppy. “He’s paid for his sins ten times over.”

  Annie fought the urge to roll her eyes. “Do we have to talk about him tonight?”

  “He misses you,” Roy rasped, giving her another hurt look.

  “I need to go to the bathroom.” She abruptly stood, pushing back her chair. If she’d known Roy had only taken her out to give her a guilt trip, she would’ve stayed home.

  “It’s over there.” Roy pointed.

  “Thanks.” She wanted to add that she could smell the way to the restroom, but she stomped away instead. When she returned, he’d damn well better change the subject or she would demand he take her home.

  She paced too long, needing time to cool down. Luckily, she was the only one inside the three-stall bathroom with the paint peeling off every door and romantic Latin music filtering in overhead. Leaning against the sink, she steeled herself to return before Tor and Van barged in. She stared at the silver lining her irises, willing the color to fade to blue and ignoring a woman who walked into one of the stalls. Her inner-wolf was still too angry about her talk with Roy.

  Annie didn’t have time to examine her feelings, not that she wanted to. Roy had awakened the deep, dark pain from her childhood she’d rather forget. Whenever he brought up Roy Senior, all she could remember was that look of apathy he’d given her when CPS took her away. He seriously didn’t give a shit that their family had fallen apart. He was probably more worried about what would happen to him than to his children, that self-loathing, selfish son of a bitch.

  She stepped aside when the woman exited a stall. She was a tall, curvy redhead in her mid-thirties, wearing way too much lavender perfume. Bleh. The shit smelled awful.

  Annie fanned her face, trying not to gag.

  “Hello there,” Redhead said, flashing a smile that made Annie’s flesh crawl. She washed her hands. “You’re awfully young to be in a bar.”

  Annie bristled when Redhead looked her over with a gleam in her luminous hazel eyes, as if she was mentally undressing her.

  “It’s not a bar,” she snapped. “It’s a restaurant.”

  Redhead’s smile widened, revealing unnaturally white teeth. “How old are yo
u?” She reached around Annie for a hand towel, coming far too close to her personal space, her nostrils flaring as if she was breathing in the scent of Annie’s hair. Fucking creepy.

  She instinctively stepped away, coughing into her fist when Redhead’s perfume singed her nostrils. “Why is it any of your business?”

  Redhead wiped her hands and face, balled up the paper towel, and pitched it in the basket. “I was just going to ask if you need me to buy you a drink.”

  “No, thanks.”

  Redhead toyed with the frayed end of a woven belt cinched around her waist. “If you change your mind, my name is Sharon. I’ll be at the bar.”

  When Sharon held out a hand, Annie backed away, scowling at long white fingers curved like talons.

  What a delicious little slave you would make.

  Sharon’s thought made Annie’s blood run cold.

  “I won’t change my mind,” she snarled. Whatever kinky shit this woman was into, Annie wanted no part of it.

  Sharon sauntered out the door with a condescending smirk. Annie thought she saw red flash in her eyes. Warning sirens went off in her head when she remembered her fathers telling her that demons had red eyes. Sharon couldn’t be a demon though. Her fathers had said they were afraid of the Amaroki. She stared at the paper towel Sharon had thrown in the trash. After a moment, she wrapped it in a clean paper towel and shoved it in her pocket. Sharon’s scent might come in handy later.

  When Annie returned to her table, Tor and Van eyed her with interest. Then she looked over at Sharon, who was sitting across from a tall, broad-shouldered black man with a shiny bald head, her bare foot blatantly stroking his crotch. They stared at each other so intently, she wondered if they were speaking telepathically. She had no idea if demons had such powers, but it seemed odd how their gazes were locked on each other, their mouths quirking and twitching but otherwise unmoving.

  When Sharon caught her eye and smiled, she quickly looked away, feeling as if a thousand tiny spiders were burrowing into her skin. Just one look from that woman, and she felt unclean. Sharon had to be a demon. When Roy launched into another sob story about Roy Senior, she pretended to be interested, but she was trying to probe Sharon’s mind. Soon words began to filter into her head.

  What is it? a deep, dark voice asked.

  That girl, Sharon answered.

  They were speaking telepathically.

  She’s a beauty, the man’s words slithered across her senses like a serpent.

  Sharon toyed with the rim of her margarita glass, covertly giving Annie more coy glances. She smells like a wolf, but she has too much human blood.

  Maybe she is part human.

  No. Shifters don’t mate with humans.

  That was one thing she’d gotten wrong about the Amaroki. Good. The less she knew about Annie’s kind, the better.

  You sure?

  Don’t be an idiot. She abruptly sat back, removing her foot from his crotch. I’ve been in this dimension for four hundred years. I’ve never seen a wolf/human pairing.

  Four hundred years! Holy shit. Sharon didn’t look older than thirty-five.

  Sharon’s companion leaned toward her. What is she to them?

  I don’t know, but she is being watched by those two wolves. Sharon inclined her head at Van and Tor, who were talking over drinks and four baskets of polished chicken wing bones, seemingly unaware of the two demons at the bar.

  We have enough human slaves. The man latched onto Sharon’s wrist. Do not think about it, Balban.

  Balban? Was that Sharon’s demon name?

  Sharon pouted. But she is so pretty, Aosoth.

  The veins in his neck popped out. Those wolves are too protective of her.

  Of course they are. Sharon—Balban—smiled venomously. She’s a delicious little virgin.

  Aosoth rubbed sweat off his bald head. You smell her virginal blood?

  I do. Balban’s eyes practically rolled into the back of her head. It’s heavenly.

  He mopped his face and head with a napkin. She’d fetch a high price, but she’s not worth the risk.

  Oh, they never are. Balban’s demonic laughter rang in Annie’s ears. But this one is such a challenge. How can I resist?

  Great Ancients! Fear solidified Annie’s veins to ice. This demon was willing to risk fighting shifters for her virginity? She had to get the fuck out of here. Her attention snapped to Roy, who was waving a hand in front of her face.

  “So you’ll go?”

  “Yes,” she absently answered, unaware of what Roy was asking her. She abruptly stood, smoothing invisible wrinkles down her pants. She felt the demon bitch’s eyes boring holes through her skin. “I’m ready to leave.”

  “We haven’t even ordered yet,” Roy said.

  She dug into her purse and threw ten dollars on the table, enough for Roy’s one beer. “I want to go, Roy. Now.”

  He frowned at the money but didn’t object to her paying. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing,” she lied. “I-I don’t feel well.”

  She waved at Tor and Van, who also stood. Tor arched an inquisitive brow, but she looked away, clutching her purse tightly.

  She marched to the exit, pleased when Tor and Van followed. She just prayed the demons wouldn’t follow, too.

  ROY GRIPPED THE STEERING wheel with whitened knuckles, staring at the winding pothole-filled road. “Annie, are you going to tell me what’s wrong?”

  “Nothing’s wrong.” She looked over her shoulder, relieved when she saw Tor and Van were close behind them. “I just don’t feel well.”

  “Did you catch their scent?”

  She gaped at him. “Whose?”

  “Your mates.”

  “Oh.” She heaved a sigh of relief. “Yes. That’s why I wanted to leave.” She wasn’t ready to tell him a demon wanted her. He’d probably get himself killed going after her or worse, be forced into slavery.

  Her head snapped back when Tor honked his horn behind them. She watched in horror as an old pickup truck with monster tires nearly ran Tor and Van off the road, spinning dust in its wake as it barreled toward Roy’s truck.

  “Watch out!” she screamed, clutching his arm.

  Roy slammed on the brakes as the truck swerved into his lane, nearly clipping his front end. A familiar redhead was behind the wheel.

  Roy sped up, tailgating the driver and shaking his fist. “Goddam crazy drivers!”

  Annie looked back at Tor, whose glowing golden eyes shined bright in the dark cab as he closely followed Roy’s truck. The guy looked seriously pissed off.

  “Are you okay?” Roy asked with concern.

  “Yeah.” She absently nodded. The demon’s truck left them behind in a cloud of smoke.

  “I’ve seen her around town. I’m calling the local sheriff.” He jabbed a finger at the windshield. “He’ll handle that crazy bitch.”

  “Just let it go, Roy,” she mumbled, a chill wracking her. She suspected the sheriff was no match for two ancient demons.

  He emitted a few curse words, and she knew he wouldn’t listen. She had to let Tor know before the demon caused harm to innocent civilians. Not that Balban probably hadn’t already caused harm, considering she and her demon friend had been talking about human slaves.

  By the time Roy pulled into the drive, Annie’s limbs were mush from the nervous tension that had zapped all her energy. She’d fought werewolves, for Ancients’ sake. A couple of demons shouldn’t have frightened her so much. Then again, werewolves were mindless eating machines, easily taken down with a well-aimed silver blade. How in the fuck was she supposed to kill a demon?

  “I’m going to bed.” She cracked open the door. “Be safe, okay?”

  He gave her a stony look. “What’s gotten into you?”

  She shrugged, unable to answer.

  “I’ll be by tomorrow morning to pick you up.”

  “Okay.” After she got out and slammed the door, she turned back. Wait. What the hell had she agreed to?

  R
oy was already pulling out of the drive, his cellphone to his ear. Dammit. He was calling the sheriff. Even more reason to tell Tor. He’d know what to do.

  When Tor and Van parked and got out, grumbling and red-faced, she knew they were still pissed off about the demons who’d tried to run them off the road.

  Her legs felt encrusted in ice as she bridged the distance between them, her heart thudding in her ears.

  “That damn, crazy human,” Tor grumbled.

  “And she was on Amaroki land,” Van added.

  Tor rubbed his face. “I’ll alert Cesar. She passed several No Trespassing signs to end up on that road. She could have gotten us killed.”

  “I think that was her intention,” Annie said, twisting her fingers. “And she isn’t human. She’s a demon.”

  Tor lifted a brow. “How do you know this?”

  “I listened to her thoughts. Her name is Balban, and her partner is Aosoth.”

  Tor’s eyes widened. “Those are demon names.”

  “I saw them sitting at the bar,” Van said. “I didn’t like the way the woman was looking at you.”

  Though the relentless evening sun beat down them like they were shriveling pieces of meat under a heat lamp, a chill went through her. “She was acting strangely in the bathroom. She wanted to buy me alcohol.” Remembering the paper towel, she pulled it out of her pocket and handed it to Van. “Here’s her scent. I took it after she wiped her face.”

  Van sniffed it with a snarl and then handed it to Tor.

  “Good job, Annie,” Van said. “Her scent is strong. We’ll easily find her.”

  She didn’t know if she should feel relieved or more worried that he could find Balban. She didn’t want anyone she cared about getting hurt.

  “She doesn’t know what I am. She’s confused by my human blood.” She decided to leave out the part about the demon wanting her virginity. Tor and Van would only encourage her to mate early, bond with four cowardly sons and be forced to live with their abusive father. “She knows you’re wolves, and she doesn’t care about the risks,” she warned. “She wants me.”