Longing for Her Wolves: A Reverse Harem Paranormal Romance (Hungry for Her Wolves Book 2)

by Tara West

  Luc grimaced. Until Hakon is sure of that, he has to be like this.

  It breaks my heart. She sniffled, casting a furtive glance at Hakon, relieved to see he’d fallen asleep. Tatiana, whose eyelids had also gone heavy, was resting her head on his shoulder.

  It breaks our hearts, probably Hakon’s more than anyone. Luc said. Drasko was his best friend.

  What can I do to help us heal? she asked.

  Be patient with Hakon. Rone glanced at his sleeping brother. Let him know you still love him.

  She resisted the urge to look at Hakon once more, fearing she’d only feel resentment. Recent unpleasant memories with her alpha seemed to overshadow the good ones. After all the strife between them the past four months, she couldn’t help but wonder if she still loved him.

  AMARA CLOSED HER EYES and leaned against the window, pretending to be asleep. Rone and Luc were already asleep. They must’ve had a rough night, too. She’d been so upset after her argument with Hakon that she’d barely slept. Not to mention her baby had recently discovered her bladder. She was confident he was a future kicker who’d mistook her bladder for a football. She heard a snort and snuck a peek at Hakon. He and Tatiana were asleep, their heads bent together, hands entwined. How sweet her alpha was to offer his sister support during this difficult time. If only he would comfort her, too, instead of making demands and pushing her away.

  She closed her eyes again and visualized her second alpha’s handsome face, reaching out with her thoughts. Drasko, I’ve missed you.

  The silence that followed was deafening.

  I know you hear me.

  His audible sigh resonated in her head. Hakon doesn’t want us talking.

  I don’t care. Her eyes flew open and she gazed at Drasko. He stared back with a look so foreboding, it made her flesh crawl. She fought back tears. Why wasn’t he fighting for her? You need to know that I’ve never stopped loving you and I don’t blame you for anything. It was my fault. I shouldn’t have gotten between you and your father.

  I shouldn’t have lost my temper.

  You were recovering from being touched by the veil. Your soul still hasn’t healed, thanks to that stupid banishment.

  He closed his eyes. I deserve to be punished.

  No you don’t.

  I don’t want to argue with you.

  Me, neither. I’m not going to stop fighting for you, and if I can steal a chance to be alone with you, I’m taking it. Your soul needs me, Drasko, and I need you. Another long pause, this one more painful than the first. Drasko?

  I don’t know what to say to that.

  She couldn’t tell if he was tired, afraid, or if he simply didn’t care. No, he had to care. She’d spent too many nights watching him stare at pictures of her on his phone.

  Say you love me, she demanded, the sting of his indifference piercing a blistering hole through her heart.

  More than my very life. I would die for you, Amara.

  He still loved her! She wanted to jump from her seat and shout with joy.

  “What are you doing?”

  Amara gasped as she looked over at Hakon who was staring at her suspiciously. His sister sat up beside him, rubbing sleep from her eyes.

  She arched back, then stared at her round belly. “Why?”

  “It was a simple question,” he snapped.

  “What does it look like?” she huffed. “I’m sitting in a plane, waiting to find out if my brother survived the night.” She turned her back on him, ignoring his audible swearing and resisting the urge to swear back. How could he be so cold, so unfeeling toward her? If it truly was his job to protect her, he was doing a terrible job. Her body might have been whole, but Hakon’s dark looks and accusations were shredding her heart to pieces.

  SHE LOVES ME! SHE STILL loves me!

  For the first time in over four months, Drasko’s heart was whole, beating wildly against his ribcage as his mate’s words played in his mind. She’d never stop fighting for him. He rubbed his scarred arms. The grim reminders of the veil no longer burned his flesh, but they’d darkened his soul. Hearing her voice in his head once more was like visualizing spring after a long, cold winter.

  Knowing she still loved him was reason enough for him to fight for survival during his bleak and lonely existence. He would give his very life to keep her safe in Romania, and if his chieftain and brothers ever let him return to her, he wouldn’t let the demons that had touched him win again. He’d fight them with every breath in his body, just to feel her soothing touch and hear her whispers of love in his ear once more.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Amara’s grandparents were waiting for them when they pulled into the drive. She waited for one of her mates to help her out of the rental truck. Her stomach was so cumbersome, she couldn’t get out by herself unless she rolled like a bowling ball. Besides, the compacted snow on the ground looked too slick for her to chance on her own.

  When Rone opened the door, the frigid air hit her like a brick, and a shiver wracked her as she inhaled, ice filling her lungs like frost creeping over vegetation. She grabbed both his hands, letting him heave her out, then leaned into him so she didn’t slip. In the next moment, she found herself in her bunica’s arms.

  “Oh, pui de lup.” Her grandmother held her face in her hands and kissed her cheeks. “How I’ve missed you.”

  Ignoring the bustle of her mates and their dads, Amara relaxed into Bunica’s embrace, letting her love and warmth wash through her. She’d missed her Romanian family. Maybe if there wasn’t so much discord in her own home, she wouldn’t have longed for them. But now was not the time to dwell on her problems.

  She grasped Bunica’s elbows, squinting against the midday sun while searching her silvery-blue eyes. “Dimitri?”

  Bunica turned sad eyes to Amara’s grandfathers, who’d joined them.

  “He’s alive,” Bunic Klaus said, resting a strong hand on Amara’s shoulder. “But he barely holds on.”

  “Take me to him,” she demanded.

  Bunica released her, and she took Klaus’s hand, surprised to see his eyes brimming with tears. “Da, you are our last hope, nepoată.”

  “Soră!”

  Three blond and broad-shouldered brothers barreled toward her, arms outstretched, looking like Nordic gods swooping down from heaven. Constantine wrapped his arms around her.

  She cringed, hoping he wasn’t going to try to spin her around like he’d done the first time they’d met. “Don’t try to lift me,” she said, returning the hug. “I need to get to Dimitri.”

  Constantine passed her to Andrei and Dejan, and she quickly hugged and kissed them.

  “Amara?”

  She clung to Dejan’s arm. Tatiana was staring at them and biting her lower lip. She toyed with her gloved fingers, her nose and cheeks flushed from the chill. Skoll and Van stood protectively behind their daughter, giving them stern looks.

  “Constantine, Andrei, Dejan,” Amara said with a grin, “this is Tatiana.”

  Dejan stiffened beside her, looking like a confused deer staring into a set of high beams. “Great Ancients,” he breathed.

  Andrei’s nostrils flared as he flashed a wide grin. “Tatiana.” He bowed low, like he was an eighteenth-century gentleman. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. I scented you from miles away.”

  Tatiana’s cheeks flushed brighter. “Hi.”

  Constantine stepped forward, taking Tatiana’s hands in his and ignoring the growls from Skoll and Van. “Thank you for coming.” The way he looked at her with such profound longing compelled Amara to look away. Not too long ago, Hakon had looked at Amara that same way.

  Tatiana’s eyelashes fluttered. “It was the least I could do.”

  Amara cleared her throat. “We’re wasting time. Take me to Dimitri.”

  Constantine released Tatiana and turned to her. “Of course, soră.”

  Amara tugged her sister-in-law to her side. “Come with me,” she whispered.

  When Skoll and Van’s growls grew l
ouder, Amara said, “Ease up.” She nodded at her brothers. “They’re not going to jump her bones right here.”

  Skoll and Van stepped back, their rumbles softening.

  They followed her other brothers toward a salted path. She cast a furtive glance behind her. Her mates and grandparents were pulling suitcases out of the rental cars. Drasko stood awkwardly to one side, looking like the family pariah, with his hands thrust in his jacket pockets, his eyes downcast. The crack in Amara’s heart lengthened, making her resent Hakon for allowing Drasko to be forgotten.

  His fathers didn’t pay him any heed either. Their main focus this trip was to make sure Tatiana wasn’t “marked” by Amara’s brothers.

  She knew from experience their protectiveness would do little good. If Tatiana and Amara’s brothers wanted it badly enough, they’d find a way. Skoll and Van dogged Tatiana’s heels as they went to the house, but at least they weren’t breathing down their daughter’s neck. Progress.

  “Where are our fathers?” she asked Constantine, disappointed they hadn’t been there to greet her.

  Constantine frowned. “They are at the pub, where Dimitri was attacked.”

  Her heart seized. “What are they doing there?”

  Shadows fell across Constantine’s features. “Waiting to see if the Stormwatchers show.”

  She swallowed, suddenly tense. “Will they fight them?”

  “Da, but I doubt the Stormwatchers are brave enough to return to the pub.”

  As they followed her two youngest brothers up the stairs, Amara admired her grandparents’ new furnishings and freshly painted walls. She glanced into the kitchen, noticing they’d gotten a new fridge. Well, at least it appeared newer than 1960. She briefly wondered how her grandparents could afford to rebuild their home, but she didn’t question it.

  Andrei and Dejan led them to a room at the far end of the hall, opposite where Amara had slept during her earlier visit to Romania. She looked longingly at her old room, wondering if her grandparents had remodeled it, too. She sure hoped it hadn’t changed much. She noticed Skoll and Van hung back at the other end of the hall. Hopefully, they’d stay there.

  Dejan knocked on the door before pushing it open. Dimitri was asleep, his mouth open as he sucked in air. Beside him, Katarina, aka Stepmother from Hell, slept in an oversized chair, her head lolling.

  Tatiana turned to Constantine as a sob wracked her. He wrapped his arms around her, rubbing her back in a protective gesture. Amara’s heart softened at the sight. How she’d longed for that kind of comfort from Hakon during the many nights she cried over Drasko.

  Forcing her marital strife out of her mind, she turned her attention back to her injured brother. The swelling on one side of Dimitri’s head was severe, his eye buried beneath a puffy eyelid and his ear crusted with blood.

  Katarina startled awake. She looked around the room as if in a daze before focusing on her two youngest sons, then Constantine and Tatiana before finally settling on Amara. The hatred in Katarina’s eyes was palpable. Had Amara been a lesser woman, she would have cowered. Instead, she raised her chin. She would not be intimidated.

  “This is all your father-in-law’s fault,” Katarina rasped, “for sending those menaces to our country.”

  She stiffened. Being disowned by her family and forced to live with mates she’d tried to abandon hadn’t humbled Katarina one bit, which meant there was no hope for her. She was born a bitch, and she was going to die one.

  “I’m not here to fight with you, Katarina,” Amara said. “I’m here to heal my brother.”

  Katarina held Dimitri’s hand. “Can you?”

  “I’m not sure.” She sat on the bed next to her brother. “I’m going to try. You need to leave, so I can concentrate.” She couldn’t focus when hell’s spawn was breathing down her neck.

  Katarina’s lip pulled back in a snarl. “I’m not leaving my son.”

  “Mamă,” Constantine said, his voice low. “You’re leaving.”

  “You can’t order me around!” Katarina jumped to her feet raising her fists. As if she’d ever have a chance against Constantine.

  Constantine held tight to Tatiana. “You either walk out of here, or I carry you out.”

  Ignoring her son, Katarina crossed her arms, eyes narrowing at Tatiana. “Who are you?”

  Tatiana swallowed. “I’m Tatiana.”

  “Does she get to stay?” Katarina hissed.

  Poor Tatiana. Off to a bad start with her future mother-in-law after only exchanging a few words. Amara would gladly welcome Katarina’s wrath to get her to leave her sister-in-law alone.

  Amara nodded. “I need her with me.” Instinct told her if Dimitri sensed his mate nearby, it would strengthen his will to live.

  “Now, Mamă.” Constantine’s rumble, though low, barreled through Amara’s skull like a freight train.

  After Katarina stormed out in a huff, Constantine helped Tatiana into his mother’s chair. “Forgive my mother, Tatiana.”

  “It’s okay,” Tatiana said, seemingly unfazed by her future mother-in-law. She cradled his large hand in her small hands, tears streaming down her face as she gazed longingly at Dimitri.

  Amara’s resolve strengthened as the warmth of her magic flow through her. Though she’d only ever healed minor cuts and bruises, she had to heal Dimitri. For Tatiana’s sake alone, she could not fail and deny her sister-in-law the chance to know her mate.

  Leaning over his supine body, she felt his head, sensing confusion in his brain, which was a mess of misfiring signals and jumbled nonsensical thoughts. Closing her eyes, she surrendered to her healing magic, letting it pass through her and into Dimitri. As the magic flowed, a weightless feeling came over her. She was vaguely aware of her baby stirring and kicking, though this time he didn’t hurt her. The more her magic flowed, the more she felt as if she was detaching from her body.

  “Let go,” a familiar voice whispered.

  She recognized her namesake, the Goddess Amara. She flung her magic outward and felt a gentle snapping of her soul before she was soaring through the heavens through the clouds to that mystical forest she’d visited in her dreams. The beautiful goddess was there, mist swirling around her robes as she rocked an infant in her arms. How strange. Amara had never seen the goddess with a child before. From what she’d learned from her mates, the Ancients had had their children millennia ago, and those children had gone on to bear more children and so on, resulting in the present-day Amaroki.

  A strange feeling came over her as she walked through the clouds toward the goddess. She hesitated, thinking she recognized the scent of the tiny infant in the goddess’s arms.

  “Do not fear.” The goddess cooed at the infant. “It’s only his spirit. Like you, his body is still intact on the mortal plane.”

  The goddess was holding her unborn son!

  “Would you like to hold him?” she asked.

  “Yes please.” She eagerly held out her hands, her heart expanding with love when the goddess placed the small bundle in her arms. Emotion overwhelmed her when she looked at her sleeping child. He had Hakon’s chin and stern brow. In fact, he was a miniature version of his father in every way, including his dark hair.

  “Hello, little one,” she said, rocking him.

  They still hadn’t picked out a name for him. Hakon said the name would come to them after he was born. For now he was her perfect little pup, a far cry from a powerful protector and the future leader of their tribe. He was hers to protect and cherish. To think, she could’ve lost him after the Stormwatchers ran her off the road and Drasko hit her. She suddenly understood why Hakon had been so protective.

  She smiled at the goddess. “He’s beautiful.” She brushed a kiss across his forehead, inhaling his scent, a familiar blend of her and Hakon.

  The goddess cupped Amara’s cheek in a motherly gesture. “We don’t have much time. Your brother will wake you soon.”

  She didn’t want this to end. Her baby wasn’t due for two more weeks. How
could she go that long without holding him after experiencing the joy of cradling him in her arms? Still, she decided to push her needs out of her mind. She had questions that needed answering.

  “Goddess,” she asked, “will my brother live?”

  Her face fell and creases tugged at the corners of her eyes. “If his will is strong, then yes.”

  The tension coiled around Amara’s neck like a noose slowly starting to unwind. She was hopeful Dimitri would be invigorated by Tatiana’s scent. “What else can I do?”

  “You are doing everything.” The goddess clasped Amara’s shoulder in a firm yet gentle grip. “Your magic grows. Have faith in yourself.”

  She braced herself for the next question. “Goddess, why have the Ancients forsaken Drasko?”

  The goddess frowned. “We have not forsaken him, child. We have been with him this whole time.”

  They had? Drasko had always seemed so alone and isolated during her regular secretive visits. “Why did you let him get hurt by the veil?” She couldn’t help the note of accusation that slipped into her voice. “It changed him.”

  “It’s changed your mates and you, too.” The goddess shook her head. “They were not ready to be guardians of the veil. Your fathers warned them, but they were misguided by pride.”

  She recalled the many arguments she and Hakon had had over the past few months. “And now their pride is destroying our marriage.”

  The goddess clasped Amara’s elbows, swirls of mist in her eyes. “You think you are the only one hurting. Look beyond your own feelings. Think of the grief your alpha suffers. He’s lost his brother and his mate’s adoration.”

  Amara clutched her baby, shame washing over her. “I can’t help it.”

  “He is following the law,” the goddess continued. “Most importantly, he is following his vow to protect you. He is an honorable man with a heavy burden on his shoulders.”

  “Why did you create such a horrible forest?” Amara blurted, resentment welling in her chest. Her mates wouldn’t be under such emotional stress if it hadn’t been for the Hoia Baciu.