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

by Tara West

  “The Hoia Baciu was not our creation. Dark gods rule that realm. It’s tragic that the Devoras crossed the veil, despite the dire warnings, but desperation drives men to do terrible things.”

  Oh, shit. There were other gods? Evil gods? And the Devoras were now among them. What would they be like if they ever returned? Drasko had lost his cool after a brief encounter with the veil. She couldn’t imagine what it might have done to the Devoras after six months.

  Her throat went as dry as sandpaper. “Will the Devoras ever return?”

  “I can’t see into that dominion,” she answered, “but the Romanians must always be on their guard. Their chieftain should have ordered a longer watch.”

  Amara nodded. “I will tell Bunic Klaus.” He would know what to do, even if Chieftain Obren refused to be an honorable leader.

  “Yes, tell him, but he will not sway his chieftain’s mind.”

  Her sweet baby stirred, his tiny arms stretched above his head. Oh, how she wanted him to wake, so she could look into his eyes. “Then how do we sway him?”

  “You don’t, but it doesn’t matter.” She shrugged. “His reign is almost at an end.”

  She sucked in a sharp breath. “It is?” Could this mean her bunic would be the leader of the Romanian Amaroki? “What will end it?”

  A wind swirled around them, tossing the goddess’s hair wildly about her face. “War.”

  She stepped back from the goddess in surprise and lost her footing. Screaming, she fell through an abyss, her baby sucked from her arms.

  TIRES SPINNING OVER a slushy mixture of gravel, mud, and ice, Hakon pulled the rental truck into the parking lot beside a pub with faded blue shutters and a thatched roof that sagged under the weight of fresh snow. Skoll and Van were already out of their car, checking the building’s perimeter for any signs of suspicious activity. Luc followed their fathers while Hakon and Rone went inside. They spotted Amara’s fathers sitting in the back of the musty, dark pub.

  Amara’s alpha father, Boris, looked up from his drink when they entered and waved them to their table. Boris and his three brothers crowded around a decanter of brandy, looking pissed off and glum, their blond hair sticking up in all directions, their shirts crumpled and stained, and their pale eyes framed by dark circles. Hakon and Rone sat across from the sulking second alpha and Dimitri’s birth father, Jovan, who didn’t acknowledge them as he stared into his half-full glass. Hakon didn’t take the grieving father’s mood personally. He couldn’t imagine the rage and sorrow he’d feel if his son had been beaten nearly to death.

  Boris pushed a decanter of brandy and two empty glasses toward Hakon.

  He thanked Boris, and Rone poured him a glass. He downed the brandy in a few swallows, needing something to take the edge off after a tense flight with Amara and Drasko. After the way she’d bristled when he tried to touch her, he realized he’d lost his mate’s love. He tried not to think of the sting of her rejection on the long drive to her family’s farm, but he could practically feel the chill from her cold gaze boring into the back of his skull. Maybe she’d even come to hate him. The thought was almost more than he could bear.

  “We weren’t expecting you so soon,” Boris said after Hakon set his empty glass on the table.

  Hakon wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “We came as soon as we could.”

  Boris stared at Hakon a long moment, unnerving him with the assessing look in his ice-blue eyes. “Where is our daughter?”

  “She is with Dimitri,” he answered. Where else would she be? Dimitri was the reason they’d risked their necks to come to Romania.

  Jovan looked at him with a stony face, his eyes clouded. “Do you think she can...?” He broke off, looking away.

  Hakon wished he could offer Jovan more certainty. “Her powers are strengthening.”

  Marius, Amara’s birth father, and the youngest brother, cleared his throat. “Then we will pray to the Ancients she is strong enough to heal him.”

  “Do not pray to the Ancients.” Jovan slammed the rest of his drink back before refilling his glass once more. “They have forsaken us.”

  Boris’s eyes widened. “Don’t say that.” He cast a cursory glance above him, as if he expected Amarok to fall through the ceiling and crush them to dust.

  Jovan waved his drink, sloshing the amber liquid on his wrist. “Then explain why they’ve chosen such a faithless bitch for our mate.”

  Marius hung his head. “We should’ve never hidden our secret from her.”

  “You’re wrong, Marius.” The tracker, Geri, scowled. “She would’ve made all twenty-two years of our marriage even more miserable.”

  Hakon felt bad for Amara’s fathers. From what he’d heard and seen, their mate was a first-rate bitch, but the weight of their depression was sinking into his bones like a thick fog, and he had his own emotional burden to bear. He looked from Boris to Jovan. “Bunic Klaus sent us to retrieve you.”

  “We will return when we’re ready,” Jovan said. “We want to wait a while longer.”

  Hakon followed Jovan’s gaze. If the Stormwatchers were outside, Luc would’ve warned him. “Do you think the they will show?”

  “Either them or their in-laws, the Albescus. I’d happily kill either pack.” Jovan flexed his fingers, his knuckles loudly cracking. “The Stormwatchers attacked our son with the Albescus’s blessing.”

  “Brothers,” Boris said, “we must go after this drink. I’m anxious to see Amara and see how Dimitri has fared under her care.” He flashed Hakon an accusatory glare. “Where is your second alpha?”

  Hakon bristled at Boris’s tone. “He’s guarding your farm.”

  “So you brought him,” he said.

  “Tor said we must.” He prepared himself for their judgment. Amara had been crying to her family about Drasko’s unfair banishment. He’d overheard her phone conversations enough times to know she resented Hakon’s decision to support Tor’s decision.

  Jovan traced the rim of his glass, eyeing Hakon with derision. “Have you not forgiven him?”

  “It’s not a matter of forgiveness,” Hakon said, looking to Rone for support, his heart twisting when Rone wouldn’t look at him. “It’s a matter of trust. He’s too unpredictable. Anger clings to him like a shroud.”

  “It’s the demon burn. I should know.” Geri rolled up his sleeve, revealing the scars from his encounter with the veil. “I deal with depression every day. I’m lucky I have my brothers’ love. I wouldn’t be alive without them.”

  Hakon bristled when all four of Amara’s fathers gave him an assessing look. How dare they judge him when he only wanted to keep their daughter safe. “But you didn’t attack your mate,” he said to Geri.

  Geri rolled his sleeve down. “Neither did Drasko, from what I was told.”

  “Then I suppose her dislocated shoulder was imaginary,” Hakon grumbled.

  Boris shook his head. “We told you to stay away from the forest.”

  Again, Hakon looked to his brother. Rone stared into his glass, avoiding eye contact with everyone. Why didn’t he say anything? Did he side with Drasko, after he’d almost killed their mate?

  “It’s too late for regrets.” Hakon drummed his fingers on the table, trying to control his growing irritation. “My priority now is Amara’s safety.”

  Geri snickered. “And yet you brought her here.”

  “If I’d had a choice, she’d still be in Alaska,” he said venomously. He’d uprooted his family, putting them in harm’s way so Amara could heal their son. Was it too much to expect a little gratitude?

  “If you want to keep her safe, let her heal Drasko.” Geri clucked his tongue like an old woman. “Isolating him will only make the demon burn fester.”

  Hakon abruptly stood, pushing back his chair with such force, it toppled backward. “Thank you for your advice,” he said through gritted teeth. Amara would never forgive him if he said what he wanted to, which was to fuck off and go to hell, and he had a hard enough time trying to win her
affection.

  Boris squinted at him, a cross between a smile and a snarl tugging at his lips. “But as usual you will not heed it.”

  “We must return to Amara,” Hakon said as his brother silently stood beside him. “What should I tell your fathers?”

  “Nothing.” Boris and his brothers pushed back their chairs. “We’re leaving, too.”

  “MY BABY! MY BABY!” Amara screamed, arms flailing wildly as she tried to catch her son in the darkness. Where had he gone? Was he all right? Her eyes flew open, and she looked at wide, frightened eyes.

  Constantine hovered over her. “Soră, are you okay?”

  “My baby! Where did he go?” Amara cried, sobs threatening to choke her words.

  “He’s still in your womb,” Constantine answered, patting her bulbous tummy.

  “Oh,” she breathed, blinking up at him. She remembered the goddess’s words that the baby she was holding was only a spirit. Still, that didn’t ease the ache in her chest. To be holding her child and have him ripped away was more than her mother’s heart could bear.

  He helped her sit up, and that’s when she realized she was lying beside her comatose brother. She tried to gauge his injuries, but the room was too dark, and ever since the pregnancy, she no longer had superior eyesight.

  Tatiana knelt beside her, holding her hands. “What happened to you?”

  “I’m not sure. One second I was holding my baby and speaking to the goddess, and the next I was falling through the clouds.”

  “You spoke to the goddess?” he said in awe.

  “I need to speak to Bunic Klaus.” She released Tatiana, as memories of her dream unraveled like threads of an old, frayed scarf. “How long have I been here?”

  “It’s been almost two hours, soră.” he patted her knee. “You look tired. You need rest.”

  She squinted at Dimitri again. She wasn’t sure, but she thought the swelling had gone down. “I’m not finished.”

  She blinked against the glare when Constantine flipped on a light beside their bed. She looked around the room as her eyes adjusted. Andrei and Dejan were gone. Constantine and Tatiana hovered, their pinky fingers linked. She pretended not to notice their tender, subtle gesture of affection as she hid a smile. She wondered if Tatiana was still reluctant to move to Romania.

  “He looks a lot better.” Constantine pointed to Dimitri’s face. “His breathing is steady.”

  She leaned over her injured brother and felt his forehead. His thoughts were less jumbled. His brain signals still misfired but not as frequently. She was unable to hold back a smile. “He’s healing.”

  Constantine kissed her forehead. “Eat and rest, and then you can try again.”

  “Are you sure?” she asked.

  “You’re no good to him if you can’t keep your eyes open.”

  Amara shook her head. “We can’t leave him alone.”

  “I’ll get one of our brothers to watch him,” Constantine said.

  “You’d better not let my father-in-laws catch you two.” Amara nodded at their joined pinkies.

  Constantine and Tatiana broke apart, blushing.

  No sooner had Tatiana opened the door than Dejan bounded toward her. “Are you hungry?” He looked at her like a dog waiting for his master to throw a ball.

  She wrapped her arms around herself, her blush deepening. “Sure.”

  He waved her forward. “Our bunics have smoked meats and cabbage rolls.”

  “Wait, Dejan,” Constantine said, “it’s your turn to sit with Dimitri.”

  His face fell. “But I want to spend time with Tatiana.”

  “Dejan,” Constantine grumbled. “It is not wise to leave our frate alone.”

  Dejan hung his head, kicking at the rug.

  “I will come sit with you after dinner.” Tatiana squeezed Dejan’s hand, giving him a quick peck on the cheek before going downstairs, leaving him to stare after her with a crimson-stained face.

  Constantine hooked arms with Amara and helped her down the steps.

  Amara smiled at her handsome brother with wavy blond hair and a strong jaw. “Are you in love yet?” she teased.

  He heaved a woeful sigh. “From the moment I first laid eyes on her.”

  She squeezed his arm. “I can’t tell you how happy that makes me.” Tatiana and her brothers deserved happiness, a bonding without strife, unlike hers.

  The remodeled kitchen had a table twice the size of the old one. Bunica was helping Bunic Anton set out fragrant dishes. Katarina sat at the far end, apart from the others, sulking into a steaming cup of liquid. Amara’s mates, their fathers, her fathers, and her Bunics Nicolae and Novak were not there. Amara hoped they weren’t out looking for the Stormwatchers. The bustle in the kitchen stopped when Amara walked up to the table, rubbing her sore and distended belly.

  “Dimitri?” her bunics asked in unison.

  “He’s healing,” Constantine said. “Amara will try again after eating and resting.”

  The room broke into a cacophony of cries and cheers.

  “Where are my mates?” Amara asked Bunic Klaus, who was sitting at the head of the table, a broad grin stretched across his weathered face.

  “They’ve gone to the pub.”

  “Oh.” Her heart dropped. What if the Stormwatchers were there? Would they start a war?

  “I sent them to retrieve your fathers.” Bunic Klaus patted the seat beside him with a wink. “They’ll be back.”

  She certainly hoped so. Movement beyond the kitchen window caught her eye. Her hand flew to her throat when she saw Drasko rattling the posts around the animal pen while trudging through the snow. “They left Drasko?”

  “He’s on guard duty.” Bunic Klaus’s grin was replaced with a grim frown. “He’s not allowed inside.”

  Her throat tightened. “It’s freezing out there.”

  Her bunic tossed a scowl out the window. “He can warm himself in the barn.”

  She fell into her chair, feeling as if the ground was shifting under her feet. Her bunics had always been supportive when she’d called to complain about Drasko’s banishment. Had they only pacified her out of pity? Did they feel no sympathy for Drasko’s unfair treatment?

  Amara stared at her empty plate, hardly aware of Tatiana pulling up a chair beside her. The girl placed a hand on hers. “I’m on your side.”

  Amara squeezed her sister-in-law’s hand back. “Thank you,” she breathed. “You don’t know how much that means to me.”

  Bunic Anton set a steaming dish of stuffed cabbage rolls between them. “Thank you for coming, Tatiana.” He placed a hand on her shoulder, the lines around his eyes crinkling as he smiled affectionately at her. “I’m Bunic Anton. I’m sorry we did not have a proper introduction.”

  Tatiana craned her neck, flashing a subtle grin that didn’t mask the sadness in her eyes. “It’s okay. I only wish we’d met under better circumstances.”

  “Tatiana,” Bunica said, sitting across from Amara and tossing a silvery-blonde braid over her shoulder, “when I first met you, I had no idea you were going to be my nepoată.”

  “Me neither.” Tatiana blushed, stealing furtive glances at Constantine and Andrei.

  Amara’s two brothers sat across from them, staring at Tatiana like elk caught in a hunter’s crosshairs.

  Bunic Anton cleared his throat and sat beside Bunica. “Did you boys offer your soră and Tatiana a drink?”

  “I’ll get it!” Andrei jumped to his feet, nearly knocking a lit candlestick off the table.

  Bunic Klaus grumbled and swore. “First day with his new feet.”

  “And his new crush,” Bunica said with a wink, causing Tatiana and Amara’s brothers to blush anew.

  Amara laughed, but it died in her throat when Drasko spun around, pinning her through the window with his dark gaze.

  Amara, my love, he called to her.

  She abruptly stood, heaving her big belly out of the chair with surprising alacrity and nearly knocking over the candle again.


  “Where are you going?” Bunic Klaus asked accusingly.

  She feigned indifference. “To get some fresh air.”

  Bunic Klaus’s frown deepened. “Sit!”

  His protector voice rumbled so loudly, her knees turned to jelly. She fell back into her chair, emotion seizing her chest.

  “He’s banished, Amara.” Bunic Klaus’s voice softened as he reached over the table, cupping her hand. “I’m sorry, but I was given specific instructions not to leave you two alone together.”

  She refused to look at her grandfather, not trusting herself to speak. Those “specific instructions” came from Hakon, no doubt. Despite everyone telling her he was only doing his job, she couldn’t help but resent her alpha for the heartbreak he’d caused. She could still feel Drasko’s eyes boring into her, could still feel the longing in his heart.

  I’m sorry, Drasko. They won’t let me see you.

  It’s okay, my love. I just want to know that you’re well.

  She bit down on her knuckles. I’ll never be well until I have you back.

  AMARA WAS HARDLY AWARE of the taste of her meal, she was so worried over Drasko outside in the cold. Bunic Anton took Drasko a steaming bowl of food. Drasko took it with a nod of thanks, then leaned against a fence post, his back turned to her. He ate fast, and she knew he hadn’t been getting enough nourishment. When Anton went out with more food, she realized her other bunics were on watch, too. Though she should’ve been relieved Drasko wasn’t forced to stand outside alone, she wondered why so many of her family were on guard. Were they expecting another attack from the Stormwatchers? Then she recalled Goddess Amara telling her that war would cause Chieftain Obren to lose his power.

  She set down her fork, no longer hungry. Remembering the warning in her dream, she turned to Bunic Klaus. “I spoke to the Goddess Amara.”

  Forks clanked against dishes as everyone turned their eyes on her.

  Bunic Klaus wiped his mouth with a napkin, throwing it on his empty plate. “When?”

  “Just moments ago, when I was healing Dimitri.”

  He arched a bushy brow. “What did she say?”