by Tara West
Aguk clutched his beer bottle like a weapon. “Watch your back, pup, before this disgraced wolf breaks all your bones.”
Constantine stepped between them, pleased when Aguk backed away. What a coward Aguk was to challenge a gamma instead of another alpha. “I don’t think you have the strength to let go of that bottle. You’ll have to put it down if you want to fight us.”
Aguk arched a brow. “You misjudge me. Your ignorance will be your undoing.”
Dimitri looked Aguk over with contempt. “Shouldn’t you be at home with your mate and children?”
“My family is none of your concern.”
Constantine noted the slur to Aguk’s words.
“They don’t seem to be your concern either,” Dimitri snapped.
When Aguk stepped back, hanging his head, Constantine shook his head in disgust. How pathetic. These wolves had no self-respect. He scowled once more at Ranko, who rolled on the floor, clutching his elbow.
Constantine puffed up his chest. “Let this be a lesson to you all not to challenge the Lupescus.”
The Stormwatchers nodded, looking at the floor.
With a disgusted snort, they turned their backs on the disgraced wolves and returned to their table. A roar sounded behind them, and the wooden floorboards shook beneath their feet. Constantine spun around but not fast enough. He shifted into protector form as protector Aguk towered over Dimitri, dropping a meaty fist on top of his head. The crack of Dimitri’s skull ricocheted through the room and twisted Constantine’s innards.
“What have you done?” he hollered as his brother crumpled into Dejan’s arms.
Aguk turned up his chin, malice in his eyes. “You can’t be chieftains with only one alpha. Guess your grandfathers won’t be able to claim the chiefdom.”
The bar patrons scattered when Constantine roared, barreling into Aguk and throwing him on top of the bar, which snapped under his weight. Glass and debris flew. Aguk rolled off, crying out at a large shard protruded from his shoulder. He stumbled to his feet with all the finesse of a sick, injured cow. Yanking the glass out of his back, Aguk flung it at Constantine.
Constantine dodged Aguk’s sloppy throw and pounded his chest. “Only a coward attacks a man from behind!”
“Only fools turn their backs on their enemies,” Aguk said.
When Aguk flung a broken chair at Constantine, he easily deflected it. The drunk was losing steam and coordination. Constantine raised his fists, preparing to charge again and finish him off.
Ranko stumbled to his feet, shifting into a protector and standing beside his brother. Constantine didn’t like his odds, but he could take on two drunks.
“Constantine!” Andrei and Dejan cried as he was about to charge.
He faltered and looked back. Dimitri was as lifeless as a corpse, blood pouring out of one ear. He needed medical attention, and every second he wasted fighting the drunks could impact his brother’s chance of survival.
His hesitation was all the Stormwatchers needed to make their escape. Whimpering and howling, they stumbled out of the bar. Constantine badly wanted to go after them, but revenge would have to wait.
He fell on his knees beside his brothers, taking Dimitri’s lifeless hand in his. “Dimitri! Speak to me.”
But Dimitri made no sound, and his eyes rolled to the back of his head. That was when Constantine saw the massive swelling on one side of his head.
Constantine released an enraged and desperate roar. “Ancients save him!”
Chapter Twelve
Hakon woke with a sore neck after spending a restless night on the den recliner. There was no way he could go upstairs to sleep in that big bed without Amara, and he couldn’t face his brothers after their discussion. They’d touched a nerve last night, and he didn’t trust himself not to pull a Drasko and do something he’d later be sorry for. Throwing a bottle against the fireplace was nothing compared to what his protector had wanted to do, which was tear the whole place down.
Ever since they’d returned from Romania, Hakon had been on edge. Drasko’s banishment had magnified the tension in their once happy home and increased Hakon’s anger tenfold. If it wasn’t for Amara, Hakon would’ve gone insane. And yet Drasko had to survive without her. How had his brother managed to repress his rage without snapping a human’s neck? Drasko had always butted heads with his bosses, but that was before he’d been touched by the demonic veil.
His buzzing phone cut through the fog of depression. A familiar number lit up the screen. Why was Amara’s grandfather Klaus calling him? Had she enlisted his help in pardoning Drasko? He thought about letting it go to voicemail, but instinct told him he needed to answer the call.
He hit Talk. “Hello?” “Hakon.” Klaus had a frail, high voice, like his lungs were made of cracked glass.
“Yes.” He tensed and moved to the edge of the chair. “What’s wrong?”
“You need to bring Amara to Romania.” His voice splintered and broke. Was he crying?
Hakon clutched the phone to his ear, his heartrate accelerating. “What happened?”
“The Stormwatchers attacked our grandson, Dimitri.”
Fuck! He’d suspected the unruly wolves would be a problem for Amara’s family, but after four months, he’d assumed they’d dropped their grudge. Still, that didn’t mean he’d take Amara to Romania. Not when she was about to deliver his child. There were too many threats in that country, from its menacing forest to the tension between his and Amara’s families, the Stormwatchers, and the Romanian chieftain.
“Amara is giving birth shortly. You expect me to take her to the other side of the world in her condition?” Hakon suspected he wouldn’t have a choice. Klaus wouldn’t be so upset if it wasn’t serious.
“He’s in a coma. He’s not healing.”
Hakon sank into his seat with a curse. Fuck! “Amara can only heal cuts and small wounds,” he said without conviction. That wouldn’t matter to Amara; she’d want to see her brother.
“If you don’t let Amara at least try to save her brother, she will never forgive you if he dies.” Klaus’s voice shifted from shattered glass to deep, menacing protector. “Neither will your sister.”
Before he could answer, the older man hung up on him. He threw the phone across the room, smashing it against the wall. Damn Amara’s grandfather for being right.
None of this would’ve happened if they’d listened to Drasko and finished off the Stormwatchers instead of shipping them off to Romania. If Amara’s brother died, Tatiana would never get the chance to know her mate, and her pack would be weaker with only three brothers. But how could he take his mate to Romania when this act of aggression by the Stormwatchers meant he’d be dragging her into the middle of a civil war?
“AMARA, WAKE UP.”
She sat up reluctantly, angry when she saw Hakon hovering over her. Had he known she was visiting Drasko? Was that why he’d awakened her? Drasko had been arguing with one of his bosses, and she was afraid he was about to lose his job or worse—his temper.
She rubbed the sleep from her eyes. “What is it?” She wasn’t sure, but she thought she saw pity in his eyes.
“Dimitri was attacked by the Stormwatchers.”
“What?” Her hand flew to her throat as panic iced over her limbs. “Is he hurt?”
Hakon cleared his throat. “He’s in a coma, and he isn’t healing.”
“A coma! Ancients save him.” Amara got out of bed and went to her dresser, and frantically threw clothes into a duffle bag. “What are you standing there for?” She waved him away like she was shooing a dog. “We need to hurry.”
“Look out the window. The snowfall is too heavy for travel.”
She shoved the bag at his chest. “I don’t care.”
“Amara, look at me.” He dropped the bag on the bed and grabbed her elbows, forcing her to stand still. “I know you’re upset, but my job is to protect you and our baby, not your brother. I have a bad feeling about Romania.”
“If you don’t
take me,” she shrieked. “I swear I’ll never speak to you again.”
AMARA HAD JUST FINISHED packing when her mates’ parents arrived, along with a teary-eyed Tatiana.
Ignoring the others, she carefully went downstairs, mindful of her huge baby lump, and took her sister-in-law in her arms.
Tatiana fell against her with a heartfelt sob. “Ever since I found out they were my mates, I’ve done nothing but complain. And now I may never meet him.”
“He’s not dead yet, sister.” Amara stroked Tatiana’s smooth, dark hair. “We must pray to the Ancients that I make it there in time.” She realized her desperation and depression were nothing compared to what Tatiana must be going through. Amara’s brothers were destined to mate with Tatiana; she didn’t know how she’d react if one of her mates was in a coma.
Tatiana pulled back, wiping her eyes. “I’m coming with you.”
“You are?”
“No, Tatiana,” Hakon said as he stepped between them and his parents. “It’s too dangerous.”
Tor cleared his throat, his expression stoic. “Tatiana is going. She needs to see him before....” He looked away.
Amara didn’t want to think about what would happen if they didn’t make it there in time. They simply had to, which meant they didn’t have time to stand around arguing about who was going.
Hakon threw up his hands with a snarl. “But the Stormwatchers.”
“Will cause trouble, and so will the rest of Chieftain Obren’s family,” Tor said, “which is why you’re taking Skoll and Van with you.” He nodded to his brothers, who stood impassively beside him. “And I’m temporarily rescinding Drasko’s banishment.”
Amara clutched Tatiana for support as her knees threatened to buckle. “Drasko is coming?”
Tor nodded. “I’ve already sent for him.”
“Oh, thank the Ancients,” Amara breathed, butterflies fluttering in her chest at the thought of seeing him again.
“Sending him will be a mistake,” Hakon said in a low voice.
The lines on Tor’s brow drew down. “You need to set your animosity aside for our family’s sake.”
“I don’t trust him,” Hakon said evenly.
“I trust him,” Luc said to Amara’s surprise and relief.
“So do I.” Rone joined his brother.
Her heart clenched and then expanded, and she couldn’t help but smile at her mates for standing up for their brother. Hakon turned to them with a dark look, and she knew he was speaking to them telepathically, probably telling them to shut up.
“I trust him more than Chieftain Obren’s family,” Tor added, “and you will need all the support you can get. Things could get ugly while you’re there. In fact, I know they will.”
“Then we shouldn’t go,” Hakon said.
Tor shook his head. “We don’t have a choice.”
“Curse the Ancients!” Hakon grumbled, his shoulders falling in defeat.
Amara and Tatiana breathed collective sighs of relief, holding tightly to each other. She hoped she reached Dimitri in time and her magic would be strong enough to heal him.
Chapter Thirteen
Hakon was apprehensive as he followed his family onto the tarmac. The drive to the airport had been treacherous because of the increasing snowfall, making his anxiety soar. It wasn’t snowing at the airport, but being there put them that much closer to Romania, the last place in the world he wanted to take his mate. What kind of protector put his mate and child in the path of certain danger?
He tightened his hold on Amara’s hand when he saw Drasko waiting beside the plane with Agent Johnson. His brother must have flown in as soon as Tor called him. Even from a distance, he could see Drasko had changed. He’d lost weight, and his eyes were weighted down with heavy circles. Hakon feared his brother’s outward appearance mirrored what was on the inside—a damaged, desperate wolf whose soul had been altered by the demonic veil.
“Drasko!” Amara screamed, lurching forward.
He refused to release her hand. “Do not speak to him.”
She blinked at him with wet eyes. “Why?”
“Don’t fight me on this,” he said from between clenched teeth.
He flinched at the heated glare she shot him. Didn’t she realize he was doing this for her own protection?
When the family was almost upon Drasko, Tor surged ahead. “Son,” he said, nodding to Drasko as if he was meeting an acquaintance.
“Father.” Drasko nodded back, his face a mask of stone.
The protector in Hakon rumbled with the urge to break free, shielding Amara from Drasko’s gaze. As he struggled to reign in his temper, he squeezed her hand so hard, she hissed. He loosened his hold but refused to let go.
Tor looked awkwardly at the plane, shifting from foot to foot. “You made good time.”
Drasko gave him a curt nod. “I knew it was urgent. Anything new about Dimitri?”
“Nothing yet,” Tor answered.
Amara’s hand shook in Hakon’s. When he looked down at her, his chest tightened. Her lower lip trembled as she gazed longingly at Drasko. He didn’t remember her giving him such a look. That’s when he realized she loved Drasko more than him, even though his disgraced brother was undeserving of her love. The thought filled him with jealous rage; he couldn’t ignore the crushing feeling of betrayal.
When Drasko turned to Amara once more, Hakon felt the quickening of her pulse through their joined hands.
“Amara,” Drasko said in a voice that was too sultry. His gaze roamed the length of her, as if she was a prized cow.
“Do not speak to her,” Hakon said with a menacing bite. “As far as I’m concerned, you’re still banished.”
Drasko’s face fell before he once again plastered on a mask of stone. “If that’s what you want.”
“It is.”
“Nobody asked me what I want,” Amara cried.
Amara, do not challenge me! Hakon projected. I am doing this for your own safety.
Amara ripped free of his hand and backed up into Rone and Luc, taking their hands and giving Hakon a look of pure hatred. He swallowed hard, feeling as if she’d cleaved his heart in two.
“So what is my role on this trip?”
Hakon turned to Drasko, whose passive expression revealed no signs of gloating after Amara had rejected Hakon. He should’ve been grateful to Drasko, but this somehow bothered him more. “Your role is to do whatever it takes to make sure no one hurts Amara,” Hakon said. He refused to turn around and look at her after her stinging rejection.
“You expect me to do that without talking to her?” Drasko asked, an edge to his words.
“I do.” He ignored Amara swearing behind him.
Drasko narrowed his eyes. “What is your role?”
“I do whatever it takes to make sure you don’t hurt Amara.”
Her swearing grew louder.
Drasko flinched as if he’d been struck. “I won’t hurt her.”
“Good, because if you hurt her again,” Hakon paused, his voice stretched thin like canvas over a drum. “I’ll kill you.”
THE PLANE RUMBLED AND shook, hitting pockets of bad air. Amara pulled down the window shade and held tightly to Tatiana. The poor girl hadn’t stopped crying since they left Alaska. Amara prayed Dimitri would survive for Tatiana’s sake. Amara knew the first-hand pain of losing a mate, though she and Drasko hadn’t been permanently separated, at least she prayed they wouldn’t be.
“I never even got to meet him,” Tatiana sobbed.
“I’m going to do everything in my power to heal him, Tatiana,” she soothed, stroking the girl’s hair. “I promise.”
Tatiana blew her nose into a napkin, then hiccupped. “W-what if we’re too late?”
“We won’t be.”
Tatiana nodded, closed her eyes, and clasped her hands in a prayer pose.
Her attention was instinctively drawn to Drasko, who sat diagonally across from her in the other aisle, along with Skoll and Van. He’d been s
tealing furtive glances in her direction. She wondered what he’d been thinking. Was he surprised by the size of her belly? Did he long to sit in Tatiana’s place, receiving Amara’s healing touch?
Hakon sat on the other side of Tatiana. His long legs were stretched out in the aisle, and his eyes kept drifting shut. She hoped he’d fall asleep soon, so she could talk to Drasko. Rone and Luc sat opposite them, offering her sympathetic smiles. Those smiles could have many meanings: sympathy for her brother, sorrow for Tatiana’s heartbreak, or pity for her dilemma with Hakon and Drasko.
When she smiled back, they beamed.
We spoke up for Drasko, , Luc projected.
She jerked upright, a train whistle going off in her brain. They spoke up for their brother? Hakon couldn’t possibly win with everyone against him. You did?
Yes. Rone frowned. Do you still hate us?
An arrow shot through her heart would’ve had the same effect. I never hated you. I love you. I’ll always love you. She’d been angry, but she’d never meant to give off the impression that she hated them.
Give Hakon time, Luc said. He’ll come around.
Her shoulders fell when she recalled Hakon had threatened to kill his brother. I don’t understand why he’s being so cruel to Drasko.
Rone shook his head. He’s the protector. It’s his job to make sure you’re safe.
Luc added, Hakon is in a difficult position. Drasko understands.
Do you think Drasko will hurt me?
Luc thoughtfully rubbed his chin. I’m not sure. The veil changed him.
She swallowed back a lump of sorrow. It changed all of you.
But him the most. Rone’s face fell. He got the demon burn.
So did I. Her arm bore only faint scars from the strange hives, though the memory of the excruciating pain still seared holes through her mind.
Shadows fell across Luc’s features. Drasko could snap your neck in a heartbeat.
He won’t.