Lup Teren (Wolf Land Series Book 1)

by L. D. K. Johnson

  As she stood admiring her human body, a sudden gust of cooler air blew off of the lake causing goosebumps to appear all over the surface of her furless skin. Skin!

  Opening her eyes she gasped. “I did it.”

  *****

  Blaine tried not to stare. He really did try. But for the life of him he couldn’t tear his gaze away from the delicious sight of Raina standing naked in front of them. Jet-black, shoulder length tresses caressing the tops of her shoulders and the sides of her flushed cheeks every time she turned her head. Even the goosebumps covering her body were enticing.

  “I did it,” she squealed her delight. The sound of it made them all smile. “I actually shifted…without falling asleep.”

  “Yes, you did,” Duncan laughed, a full belly laugh.

  It was only then, she truly realized that not only had she shifted, but she was out in the open, naked and on display to their lascivious stares. Totally mortified, she let out a loud screech.

  “Oh, shite!” she gasped covering her luscious, full breasts with their dark nipples as best as she could with her hands. In a flash, she ran behind the willow tree. “Could somebody please get me a towel or a robe or something?”

  “There are no robes on the property,” Blaine chortled. “Mrs. Radu threw away all of the towels as well. We could probably find you a dishcloth,” he added with a wag of his eyebrows.

  “You are a total pig,” she glared with evil intent.

  “So I’ve been told,” he chuckled.

  “I’ll get you one.” That goody-goody Duncan made his way back to the manor in quick strides.

  “Come out,” he cajoled. “Wolves are used to nudity. It’s nothing to us.”

  “Well, it’s a lot to me,” she admonished.

  “You do not have anything we have not already seen, Miss Jacobs,” Nicolae stated with an extra-large grin. “Come out, we promise not to stare.”

  Shaking his head, he said, “I can’t make any such promise.” And he couldn’t. If Nicolae weren’t there, he’d want to do a lot more that look. He wanted to push her down flat on her back, spread her toned legs wide, and gorge himself on the tantalizing dessert nestled between her thighs.

  A loud, angry snarl battered his mind. Shite! He’d forgotten they were all linked together.

  “Get your filthy mind out of the gutter, friend!” Antonio’s warning clear and unmistakable.

  “Sorry, me ole mate,” he said, trying to remove the thoughts out of his head.

  Dead puppies. The extinction of pizza. The dissolution of Manchester United. Ok, that did it. His semi-erect member went back to its original flaccid state. Now, whether or not it stayed in that state was anyone’s guess.

  “Here you go.” Duncan was back carrying a simple, terrycloth robe from the laundry room.

  “Thank you.” Raina reached around the tree, took the robe, and quickly slipped into the garment, effectively, covering her incredible body from their view. Shite! Another growl could be heard. Followed by a cheeky chuckle from the much too in control Romani.

  “Boys,” Raina reprimanded. “Stop right now. I can’t take all of this testosterone inside of my head. You’re giving me a migraine.”

  *****

  “Great!” Nicolae delivered a hard right jab to the swinging punching bag. He had been working off his frustration for over an hour without success. “I am linked to two horny Weres and an irrational Hybrid.”

  “I am not irrational,” Raina’s voice spoke to him through thought.

  “Sure,” he scoffed, hitting the bag again, only harder this time.

  “Why are you so upset with me?”

  “My thoughts should be mine and mine alone,” his tone angry. “I do not like being on display.”

  “And you think I do,” she gasped. “I have no idea how I did this or how to undo this. Do you think this is fun for me listening to your pissed-off thoughts or having to hear all of the unsavory things Blaine wants to do to my body?”

  “Oops.” Blaine’s voice was in his mind again. “Sorry, I thought I was getting better at keeping my thoughts to myself.”

  “Well, you’re not,” Antonio came through next.

  “Get out of my head. All of you.” He punched the bag three times in a row. The third time the force made it break away from the metal chain securing it to the overhead wooden beam.

  “Stop thinking so loudly,” Raina implored.

  “Unlink us,” Nicolae snarled, words directed at Raina, who stayed silent. “Hello? Are you still there?”

  “Where else would I be asshole?” She sounded tired. The fact she was going to her death in less than twelve hours lessened his anger.

  “Thanks, Nicolae,” her voice soft and hurt. “I’m glad that my dying will at least give you back your own thoughts. I’m going to spend my last hours on Earth with my father. You boys behave.” Then there was silence.

  “You are a right idiot, ya know that,” Blaine said, then his thoughts went silent.

  “Antonio?” he asked, but heard nothing. Good! Maybe they would all stay out of his head.

  *****

  The office door was locked with no signs of Richard Jacobs anywhere. Strange. Peering through the intricately designed glass doors she sighed. Where the hell was he? He knew the trials were going to start at moonrise. She was petrified and needed to speak with him. Needed to hear his voice and feel his strong arms around her. Damn it! Where was he?

  Although her stomach was tied up in knots, she ate an early dinner in her room: a mouthwatering roast beef sandwich with spicy horseradish sauce, freshly picked arugula and vine-ripened slices of tomato, on a warm focaccia roll. A cold glass of Romanian plum wine called Țuică, accompanied it. Too bad her stomach was sloshing around like a washing machine on spin cycle making her unable to enjoy the expertly made dinner.

  “Eat,” Antonio’s voice chastised.

  “I will.” She looked at the box once again. The object was still partially hidden below her bed. “Could you give me some time alone, please?”

  “Sure,” his gentle voice calming her. “I’ll be here if you need me.” Then her mind went silent.

  No Antonio. No Blaine. No Nicolae. Thank goodness.

  Placing the tray on the bedside table, she retrieved the box, the lid still partially opened. Something was inside. Huh. She hadn’t noticed it before. Cautiously, reaching inside she pulled out a worn, green leather journal. A picture of a wolf, claws bared, mouth snarling, amber jewels embedded in the figure’s eyes, graced the journal’s cover.

  “Lup Teren,” she whispered while tracing the raised lettering with her pointer finger. The same finger that was broken only a few days ago was now completely healed.

  Excitedly, she tried to open the cover, but the damn thing wouldn’t budge. Impatiently, she examined it, irritation worsening her already terrible mood.

  “Another puzzle to figure out, I suppose,” she spoke to herself and felt as the locket warmed against her skin again. Pulling it out from where it hid underneath her t-shirt she removed the chain from around her neck. The antique trinket glowed in the already sun-drenched space. “How are you doing that?” she asked the charm, not expecting to get an answer. Thankfully she didn’t get an answer.

  Looking at the cover again, she noticed inside the wolf’s opened mouth was a small indent…the size and shape of her locket. With shaky fingers, Raina placed the locket inside the mouth snapping it into the raised space. A soft click was heard and the lock sprang open revealing the first page of the journal. It was written in the same scratches as the box and the engraving on her locket.

  Glancing around the room, she spotted a safety pin on the dresser. Grabbing it, she poked her fingertip until a drop of blood escaped. Quickly, she smeared the blood over the scratches. Nothing happened.

  “Shite.” That should have worked she thought to herself. She did it again this time using more blood. Still the scratches remained scratches. Perfect!

  “Antonio,” she spoke aloud.
/>
  “I’m here.”

  “It’s not working. My blood is not working. I’m not the Hybrid. There’s been a mistake.” She smiled and blew-out a relieved breath.

  “I don’t think so,” he said, dashing away her hope.

  “Then what am I doing wrong?”

  “Let’s talk this through. How did it happen the last time? Tell me exactly.” She did, going over all of the details of the last time she’d encountered the box. “Okay, the only thing that is different is…”

  “It’s daytime.” She smirked to herself. “Moonlight revealed the scratches. My blood translated the scratches into words then it opened when I spoke the incantation.”

  “So it’ll open…”

  “At moonrise.” She smiled then quickly lost it. “Damn it.”

  “What’s the matter?”

  “The first trial begins at moonrise. I won’t have time to read the journal.”

  “That’s alright. I’m sure you’ll do fine on your own.”

  She highly doubted that.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  “I’m nervous.” Raina tried to draw in a deep breath, but couldn’t perform the basic task. Her lungs felt constricted and hollow. “What is this place?” she questioned with a wavering of her voice.

  With paternal concern, Duncan held her hand securely in his much larger, slightly calloused one.

  “It is known as the Battlefield.”

  “What a charming name,” she stated offhandedly. “I’d like to build a summer cottage here. Enjoy all of the beautiful…” Her sentence, as well as her sarcasm, ended abruptly as images of dead bodies flashed before her eyes. What the hell?

  Duncan, seeing her expression, frowned. “What’s wrong, darling?”

  Smiling weakly she squeezed Duncan’s hand a little harder than she would normally. “It’s nothing.” He was the next best thing to having her father with her. “Have you heard from my dad?” Duncan nodded no. “Something is wrong. He wouldn’t just disappear like this.”

  “As soon as we’re finished here, I’ll check it out.”

  “I would appreciate it.” Glancing around at the barren field littered with dried grass, gnarled trees and shriveled foliage that had once seen better days, Raina felt her stomach lurch. The land reeked of death. “Nothing flourishes here,” she whispered aloud, grip tightening on Duncan’s hand again making him wince.

  Continuing her inspection, she noticed a shallow stream dissected the area the size of an NFL football field. In the center was a knoll where the dead grass was cleared away leaving a smooth dirt expanse roughly ten feet squared with eight elaborate torches equally spaced around its perimeter. Each one lending their ominous orange glow to the clearing.

  “How many times has a potential Hybrid fought here?” she asked no one in particular.

  “Twice,” Nicolae informed, blue gaze fixed on the large structure covered by a white tarp on four wheels being pulled into the center of the knoll. “Of course, none of them were the Chosen One. Otherwise, you would not be here now.”

  Her mouth went dry as several men walked across the knoll maneuvering the wall-like object into the center of the clearing. Finally, they removed the tarp revealing what was hidden beneath. Polished metal glistened under the bright moonlight.

  “A-are t-those…” she stammered nervously.

  “Weapons.” Blaine’s stance stiffened as he came to stand on the other side of her. “You have your choice of weaponry. All of the blades are made of silver, so with one precise blow you can render your opponent useless.”

  “Saints preserve us,” she whispered, unable to imagine having to kill another person, yet alone three. Looking away from the area, she glanced up at the evening sky.

  It was a gorgeous summer sky. The night before the full moon. Not a cloud in the heavens to block the view of the multitude of sparkling stars winking down at the motley crew assembled on the Battlefield.

  And although the moon wouldn’t reach its pinnacle and complete fullness until the next night, the beauty of it was still overwhelming. The horrific scene that would soon start was so in contrast to the serenity of the night, it made her chest constrict. This was really happening.

  Blaine took her hand in his as he stated bluntly, “You don’t look well.”

  “I think I’m gonna puke,” she announced loudly making everyone turn toward them. Against her will, she blushed.

  “We are here with you,” Blaine and Nicolae’s voices were heard in her head. Antonio, however, hadn’t spoken to her since their epiphany in her bedroom a couple hours earlier.

  “Antonio?” Raina closed her eyes and concentrated hard. “Are you with me?” No answer.

  One of the men on the knoll waved a gigantic red flag signaling it was time. Nervously, she released Duncan and Blaine’s hands and gave the fatherly Scotsman a tight hug around his thick neck.

  “You’ll be fine, darling,” he stated with a confident wink. “I feel it in my bones. Go make an old man proud.” She nodded unable to form a coherent word in her present state of terror.

  Stiffly, she turned toward Blain, who kissed her chastely on the forehead. “Remember what I’ve taught you. You come from a long line of warriors. Read your opponent. Get inside their head. You can do this.” Again she nodded, this time a small smile appeared. “We’ll be with you,” he reassured.

  Finally, she walked toward Nicolae, who was standing a few feet away from their group staring at the scene below.

  “Well,” she nervously whispered, “with any luck you’ll be rid of me in a few minutes. I’m sure you’ll feel better once the link is…severed.”

  “Always joking, Miss Jacobs,” he said without looking at her. “Do your best. It is all we can hope for.”

  “Gotcha,” she frowned, turning toward the man with the flag, when she felt a tug on her elbow.

  With glistening eyes, Nicolae ordered, “Do not die.”

  Taken aback by his emotional request, she mumbled, “I’ll try my best,” and added a playful wink to irritate him.

  The walk to the knoll was the longest walk she had ever taken. Her throat felt like the Sahara and her feet felt like lead weights were tied to her ankles. And her palms were sweating so much she hoped she would be able to hold on to her weapon when the time came. This must be how death row inmates must feel as they walk to the chamber.

  “Antonio?” She attempted to contact him one last time, needing to say her goodbyes, but there was still no answer. The uneasiness she felt tripled and she grabbed her stomach to keep it from dry heaving.

  “Raina, you’re gonna have to calm yourself,” Blaine ordered through the fear in her brain. “Focus on my voice.”

  “I can’t,” she thought. “I’m terrified.”

  “I know you are, but you’re gonna have to fake it.”

  “Fake it?” she mumbled, knowing that would be an impossibility given her current state.

  “Correct,” he answered with a bland tone that sounded like the male teacher from Ferris Beuller’s Day Off and would have been hilarious in another time and place.

  “How do I do that?” her words clipped.

  “Get angry. Get determined. Feel anything besides terrified,” he growled.

  “I can’t,” she spoke to herself. “I’m about to lose my dinner all over this damn field.” Both hands immediately grasped her churning stomach willing it to behave.

  “Maricon,” the Spaniard cursed, “little girl,” she heard Antonio’s voice at last. “Stop feeling scared and get pissed off.”

  “Where have you been?”

  “Don’t worry about that now,” he said calmly, voice dropping an octave. “Don’t make me regret claiming you.”

  Smiling she teased, “Don’t make me regret letting you claim me.”

  “Remember, the guys have taught you everything you need to survive the first trial. Size-up your foe. Read their body language. Learn their fighting styles. Some will be formally trained warriors, others will be street f
ighters. You’ll be able to tell the difference. All will be deadly. Of that, you can be certain. However, they will also all have a weakness.” He paused. “Find it.”

  “Easy for you to say,” she scoffed.

  “You only have to fight three,” Nicolae stated nonchalantly making the hair on her arms stand on end, “and it will be one at a time.”

  “One at a time? I feel so much better now.”

  “And Raina,” Antonio’s voice lowered, “don’t die.”

  “I know.” She stopped at the edge of the knoll to stare at the combat area. The scent of dried blood much stronger now along with the moldy dirt stained with past misdeeds. “I know.”

  *****

  The heat radiating off of the torches against her bare arms had her sweating like a Sumo wrestler. Looking down at her outfit, she realized her dark sweatpants and dark tank were perfect for unrestrictive movement; however, they didn’t offer any protection against swinging swords or flying chains or whatever.

  “Miss Jacobs,” the large, gray-haired man waved her over.

  Reluctantly, she moved closer. When she was beside him, he adorned her forehead with a red sticky substance the consistency of finger paint that smelled overly sweet like mashed berries.

  “It is berries,” Nicolae spoke to her telepathically, “mixed with red dirt from the mountains. It is what was used to draw on the cave walls.”

  “Why is he putting it on me?”

  “It anoints you as the one completing the trials.”

  “But they already know who I am.”

  “It is part of the ritual.”

  “I understand.” In reality, she didn’t understand any of it.

  Wordlessly, the man motioned for her to stand in the center of the knoll.

  Following his command, she waited as he held both hands toward the heavens and announced, “Tonight, on the night before the full moon, when the spirits of Artemis, Diana, and Athena look down upon us we bring forth the first trial.” The man pointed at her. “On the Battlefield of our ancestors, the pack calls Raina Elaina Emmanuel Jacobs to the circle. Her blood challenges the scrolls of old. It is here on the Battlefield where she will prove herself worthy to be called Supreme Pack Alpha of the European Pack Alliance. May her victory be sweet or her death be swift.”