Her Forbidden Harem

by Savannah Skye

  Even then, I wavered. I wanted to believe it was possible. But they were men, they were human and they were Wolf Takers. Three groups with which I had issues. I didn’t trust men because I had witnessed first-hand how they could treat women they supposedly loved and I wasn’t ever going to become one of those women. I didn’t trust humans because, in the end, it was us and them – in the pinch they would betray you for their own kind, that was where their loyalties lay. And as for Wolf Takers, maybe I couldn’t hate them as I once might have, but I had experienced their intolerance. My guys did not seem part of that but it was how they had been raised. You can’t escape your upbringing forever.

  No. I didn’t know how this whole thing was going to end, but when it was over, we would go our separate ways. It would be sad – it would be devastating – but it would be right.

  For now, I tried to force such thoughts from my mind, to live in the happy isolation of our own little bubble with the men who, for now, were mine.

  But it was not just my problems that existed outside of our little world, and even someone as occasionally self-obsessed as me could not ignore that. Back home a war was brewing. It was so hard to believe - such a thing had not happened in werewolf society within living memory, and a mere few days ago had seemed unthinkable. Now it seemed unstoppable.

  That evening, after a day of pleasure, thoughts and conversation inevitably turned in that direction.

  “I just don’t understand what the MacKenzie have to gain,” said Colt, shaking his head.

  “The idea is,” I replied, remembering what Uncle Farley had said, “they put Dad on the opposite side of a popular cause like The Brotherhood, then, when he attacks The Brotherhood, a lot of his own wolves will be against him. Then the MacKenzie step in as a pro-Brotherhood pack and all the disaffected Hokkai wolves side with them.”

  “That’s a very devious plan for a werewolf,” commented Clarke. “Good one though.”

  “No, it’s not,” Jackson scoffed. “The MacKenzie are going to be wiped out.”

  “Well, they are now,” I agreed, a little indignantly. “Because we found out it was them. The Hokkai will annihilate them. But if they hadn’t been found out…”

  “It would still be an awful plan,” Jackson interrupted. “It sounds good but think it through. What happens after the MacKenzie take over Hokkai territory alongside The Brotherhood? The Arctic and the Kenai have no love for The Brotherhood. The Kenai are probably as humanized as any pack and they’re big enough to crush the MacKenzie if they wanted. If what you said is MacKenzie Sean’s plan then the man is a fool. He’ll end up wiping out his own pack.”

  I found all that a little hard to believe. “That was the plan my Uncle Farley suggested to my dad when all this started. He didn’t know it was the MacKenzie but he’s a very smart human. I’d be surprised if he hadn’t thought it through.”

  Clarke frowned. “You have a human uncle?”

  “Not a biological uncle. Sort of honorary. He’s an old friend and advisor of my father’s. I’ve known him all my life.”

  “What’s his surname?” Jackson had a strange expression on his face.

  “Castleford? Why?”

  “Farley Castleford advises your father?”

  “Yes. Why?”

  Jackson drummed his fingers on the arm of his chair. “Farley Castleford owns property in MacKenzie territory, doesn’t he? I saw signs up when we left the MacKenzie Pack Lodge.”

  I shrugged. “I don’t know, but I wouldn’t be surprised. He’s a property developer and a very rich man.”

  “Rich men always want to get richer,” murmured Jackson, half to himself.

  I nodded. “Uncle Farley certainly knows how to make money.”

  “I wonder how far he might go.”

  “What?”

  Jackson looked at me as if uncertain how to begin. “The MacKenzie territory is pretty low grade as far as werewolves are concerned, but to a real estate developer, it’s prime land, especially where the MacKenzie Pack Lodge is situated. That area is worth a fortune, but MacKenzie Sean wouldn’t sell at any price – giving up your Pack Lodge for money would be a sign of weakness. But what might happen if the Hokkai went to war with the MacKenzie. We know the Hokkai would win and One-Eyed Jack isn’t moving his Lodge, so what happens to that land?”

  “It’s up for grabs,” said Clarke. “And no werewolf would want it.”

  “But there’s someone close to Hokkai Jack who does,” said Jackson darkly. “Someone whom he might want to thank for all his good advice.”

  “No.” It all made sense but I couldn’t bring myself to accept it.

  “We knew there was a traitor somewhere in the Pack Court. It being a human makes so much more sense than…”

  “No.”

  “Would your father have ever suspected the MacKenzie of this sort of plot, if Castleford hadn’t put the idea in his head?” asked Jackson. He spoke softly, trying not to hurt me any more than he had to. “Would a man as smart as Castleford have presented a plan that – like I said – doesn’t actually pan out? But he knew that a werewolf, especially one as straightforward thinking as your father, would buy it without asking questions. Then, all he had to do was plant the evidence, pushing us all in the right direction. And we’ve all acted just like he expected. Like you said; smart man.”

  I didn’t want to hear. I couldn’t believe the possibility. It wasn’t like he was close family - someone I had loved - but Uncle Farley had always been there, and was someone I had trusted.

  “It would explain how they found us at Hobton,” added Clarke. “I really didn’t think anyone had followed us. And who else knew we were going there?”

  “What are you saying?” The words fell quietly from my lips, as I was still in shock. “That Uncle Farley has… what? Funded The Brotherhood to create a werewolf war? Tried to have me killed to make my father angry enough to start it?”

  Jackson nodded as kindly as he could. “And to net millions on the property market.”

  The conflicting emotions roiled inside of me, but I like to think that, however selfish I can be from time to time, I am a pretty decent person, and there was one thought that came out over all else.

  My head snapped up. “We can stop the war. We have to tell my father.”

  I still wasn’t sure if I could believe all this, it seemed so mired in the worst of human nature that it seemed inconceivable that anyone would do such a thing. But if there was even a chance then I had to let Dad know. At the very least, it would delay the war until he could establish the truth or otherwise of what Jackson was saying.

  “I can drive back tonight?” suggested Colt.

  “I’ll go,” I said, resolutely.

  All three guys shook their heads.

  “No way,” said Jackson. “You’re in no less danger now than ever. Probably more. And in the city especially. Our first job is still to keep you safe, and even if we go with you, that gets a lot harder if we go back to the city. I know what you’re going to say.” I had opened my mouth to argue. “And we usually end up letting you do what you want, one way or another, but not this time.”

  I shook my head. “It has to be me. My dad has known Uncle… has known Castleford for decades. He’s not going to believe this from anyone but me. Even then it will be a hard sell.”

  “Write him a letter.”

  I tried to fight my case but the guys were adamant. A letter from me would be enough to stop the war, and if Dad had further questions then he could always come out here to get them answered in person. They were not going to risk my life when it was not necessary to do so.

  “Okay,” I finally agreed. We were wasting time and that would not do right now. Every moment might be precious as we had no idea how advanced preparations for the war were. Might it even have started? Being cut off, which had seemed like a Godsend earlier in the day, now counted strongly against us.

  I sat down to write the letter, as quick, blunt and to the point as I could make it. I h
ad no idea how this would affect Dad, who had already been shaken by the recent turns of events. How would learning of his friend’s treachery hit him?

  “Here you go.” I handed the sealed envelope to Colt, who gave me a comforting smile. He had a smile that I could not help but answer, and he gave me a light kiss on the lips before heading for the door.

  “It’ll be alright. I promise.” And hearing those words from him almost made me believe it.

  I slumped in the shoulders as I heard the front door slam.

  “He’s right,” said Clarke, putting an arm about my shoulders. “Colt will deliver the letter, the war will be put on hold. Think of the lives you’ll have saved.”

  I nodded. “I just wish I could be there for my dad when he gets the news.”

  “I’m sure he’ll…”

  But the sound of the door opening and closing at speed cut Clarke off.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked as Colt ran back in. “You forget something?”

  But Colt’s face was deadly serious. “There’re people outside. Advancing through the woods. I reckon they’ve got the place surrounded. It’s The Brotherhood.”

  Chapter 19

  That seemed to confirm the truth of Jackson’s accusations about my Uncle Farley. We had taken every precaution against The Brotherhood finding us here at Dun Shiftin. The one person we had told was my father, and, sadly, one person whom he would have trusted that information with was his old friend.

  That confirmation ought to have been a crippling moment for me but I had no time to process it.

  “There.” Jackson pointed through one of the upstairs windows to a flicker of light out in the dense woods that surrounded the house. “And there. They’re coming.”

  “You should have kept driving,” I said to Colt. “Now it’s too late to get out.” The Brotherhood were blocking the driveway.

  “I wasn’t letting them attack without you knowing about it,” replied Colt.

  “You did the right thing,” said Jackson, firmly.

  “Now what?” asked Clarke.

  “Now, we defend ourselves.”

  Which was easier said than done in a house this size. There was no way we could cover all of the doors and windows. Even if we covered all those on the ground floor, then that left the possibility of them climbing up to the second-floor windows and then attacking us from within.

  “At least from above we have a vantage point,” said Jackson, as he led the way up the stairs. At the top of each flight, we hastily dragged large piles of furniture into place, blocking their progress. It was a stop gap, but every moment might count. “If we can slow them down then we have a better chance of picking them off one by one. Does your father have a gun room?”

  Werewolves don’t like guns – we’re more fans of hand to hand, claw to claw, tooth to tooth combat – but you have to move with the times, particularly if you’re a Pack Leader with a list of enemies as long as Route 20.

  “What’s the long-term plan?” I asked. It seemed inconceivable that the four of us would be able to kill all of them.

  “Same as it’s always been,” said Jackson, cryptically, adding no further explanation than that.

  On the top floor, we did our best to make every staircase secure, then headed for the windows. We could see The Brotherhood approaching from every side. I had no idea they even had this many followers.

  “All these people hate me?”

  “They just haven’t gotten to know you,” said Clarke, dryly.

  “Let’s not give them the chance.”

  “Agreed,” said Jackson, raising a rifle to his shoulder. “Let’s see how easily they spook.”

  He took aim and fired. It was an impressive shot from the third floor of a large building, and we all watched The Brotherhood man knocked to the ground, crying out in pain. Unfortunately, it did not look like the others were simply going to run away when faced with this defense.

  “Make it hard for them,” said Jackson.

  We all picked a window and began to fire at will at the oncoming Brotherhood. I had to admit, I wasn’t the best shot in the world – it’s just not something that werewolves are taught – but the guys were amazing, picking off man after man. Several of The Brotherhood changed – a response to fear or anger, but my bodyguards just kept firing until all the wolves had reached the base of the house and were out of our firing zone.

  “Won’t stop them for long,” growled Jackson, under his breath.

  He was right, of course. My father might have had guns in the house, but no werewolf in his right mind would keep silver bullets lying around – that was asking to get killed with your own weaponry. The guys might have been able to shoot a fair few of our attackers, but it was unlikely they had killed any of them. Normal bullets still hurt werewolves, so hopefully a few of them were out of the fight, but the odds against us remained ugly.

  “Clarke, keep watching the windows,” said Jackson. “Make sure they don’t try to climb up. Colt, with me.”

  Having received no instructions, I just followed Jackson and Colt and we stared down the stairwell. Suddenly, Jackson took aim and fired, and a roar of pain and anger echoed around us.

  “We make it as difficult for them as possible,” Jackson said to his friend.

  Colt nodded. Then both men clambered over the pile of furniture that blocked the stairs and headed down.

  “No. You get back there,” snapped Jackson, as I tried to follow.

  I made no answer except to change into wolf form.

  Jackson shook his head. “I don’t know why I bother giving you orders. We hit hard, we hit fast, and we pull back. Got it?”

  I nodded my shaggy, russet head.

  On the second floor, we met The Brotherhood negotiating the first of the blockades we had put in place. They were so intent on what they were doing they did not notice our approach and Colt launched himself at them with the force of a cannonball, knocking Brotherhood men – some in wolf form, some human – out of his way. Jackson was just behind him, and together the two men put their shoulders to the barricade they had built, which now crashed down the stairs. Wardrobes, tables and easy chairs tumbled down in an avalanche of expensive antiques, winging and crushing The Brotherhood men on the stairs as they tried to get out of the way.

  Those who were already on the second floor, having recovered from Colt’s initial attack, had now recovered and sprang at the Wolf Takers. This was where I came in. I bounded forward, taking a wolf in mid-air as he sprung at Jackson. We rolled together on the ground and I came out on top, slashing my claws relentlessly at his body until he stopped moving.

  I jumped up, looking for my next prey. Jackson was fighting with a knife and I guessed the blade was silver coated from the way the wolves screamed when it went through them – a Wolf Taker knife. He moved with an agile yet powerful grace, exercising such perfect control over his body. He understood how werewolves fought so well that he never seemed to have to get out of the way of their claws, he simply wasn’t there when they swung. Catching a wolf off-balance, he landed a kick in its chest and it went backwards over the bannister, crashing to the floor beneath.

  Colt was a more power-based fighter. He dove at the wolves, pummeling with his fists, his muscles bulging with effort, each blow landing with the force of a steam hammer. One to the stomach, two to the snout, one to the chest and then an uppercut to send the wolf flying before his assailant had even managed to fight back.

  Joining the fight, I squared off against a big grey wolf who roared ferociously at me – he knew who I was, the man-bitch they were after. He dived, I dodged, then spun about to slash at his back. He flung himself back at me, pain making him careless, and I rolled onto my back, kicking him hard in the stomach with my legs and sending him sailing over the bannister.

  The thrill of victory bubbled in me, mixing with adrenalin and making a heady cocktail. It was easy to get carried away on such a mixture and I was eager to keep fighting. But The Brotherhood on the ground floor
were regrouping for a fresh assault. More importantly, there was more than one way up through the building, and if they took another they could get past us and take us from behind, or continue up and surprise Clarke.

  “Back upstairs!” called Jackson, and although my wolf blood screamed for me to stay and fight, I followed his instruction.

  We rushed back the way we had come, negotiating the blocked staircases, and made it back to our third-floor stronghold unharmed.

  “That was amazing,” I enthused, once I had shifted back.

  “Take it easy,” said Jackson. “Don’t let the bloodlust get you. It won’t be so easy next time – they’ll be expecting us.”

  I nodded, trying to control my excitement. Even on the hunt I had never felt like this. It must have been how my ancestors felt – wild wolves who fought amongst themselves all the time. I never would have guessed myself as the type to give way to this sort of thing but it was intoxicating. My father would be so proud. I hoped I would get to share it with him.

  “Anything?” Jackson turned back to Clarke.

  Clarke shook his head. “All looks clear outside. I think the fight on the stairs drew them all in. Now they know they’re going to need all their number to get past you.”

  Jackson nodded. “Good.” He turned to me. “You asked what the plan was.”

  “And you said ‘same as it’s always been’.”

  Jackson nodded. “Yeah. Keeping you safe.”

  “What?”

  Jackson looked me in the eye. “You have to go tell your father about Castleford. Stop the war. We’ve got all The Brotherhood in here now and the great thing about werewolves is they can’t imagine anyone running from a fight. You can climb down the outside of the building. Colt’s car is still out there.”

  “I won’t leave you.” Whatever my fears and doubts about the future were, I knew how I felt about these men and I could not leave them to die here.

  “You have to,” said Jackson. “Or many more will die. We can keep The Brotherhood busy for long enough that they don’t realize you’re gone.”