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

by Tara West

  “What about Daniella Stormwatcher and her children?” Tatiana chewed her nails, looking from Drasko to Anton.

  Anton looked at her with raised brows. “What about them?”

  Tatiana looked like a wilting flower, cooking beneath their glares. “The werewolves could kill them.”

  Anton waved away her concern. “She should have a protector with her.”

  “I hope not the second alpha.” Tatiana continued biting her nails. “He has a broken arm. He won’t be able to take on three werewolves.”

  “Tatiana, listen to me.” Drasko grabbed his sister. “The Stormwatchers are not our concern.”

  Amara hated the thought of the werewolves harming Daniella and the children, but they couldn’t do anything for them. The thought of sending Drasko or Skoll there made bile rise in her throat. Besides, the Stormwatchers would just accuse them of lying, or worse, shoot them for coming onto their property.

  Tatiana jerked out of Drasko’s grasp, shoving him back when he tried to advance again. “Daniella is a bitch, but she doesn’t deserve to be eaten, and neither do her children.”

  Drasko threw up his hands with an exasperated groan. “If we leave you to fight them, they could come after you next.”

  “Then take us with you,” Tatiana suggested.

  “Are you crazy?” Drasko’s cheeks reddened. “We’re not taking you to the werewolves.”

  “Your sister-in-law is about to have her baby,” Bunica said.

  Tatiana gave Amara an apologetic look. “I’m sorry, but we can’t just sit here while babies are slaughtered.”

  “We can and we will!” Drasko bellowed in his protector voice, rattling the walls. “Now, not another word about it.”

  Tatiana swatted Drasko away when he reached for her, skirted him, then marched up the stairs.

  “Where are you going?” he demanded.

  “To the bathroom,” she spat, “so I can throw up in peace.”

  Drasko jumped when the bathroom door slammed. Swearing under his breath, he started toward the stairs. Amara wanted to call him back, but she couldn’t speak. Now she was tongue-tied around him?

  Bunica rested a hand on Drasko’s arm. “Let her go. Anton and I will go talk to her.” She winked at Amara. “Spend a moment with your mate.”

  “Thank you, Bunica,” Drasko said.

  Bunica lovingly patted his cheek, then she and Anton walked hand-in-hand up the stairs.

  Heavenly Ancients! They were finally alone.

  He turned loving eyes on her and knelt beside the sofa, taking her hands in his.“How do you feel?”

  Those pistons in her heart were ready to pound their way out of her chest. The pain in her womb was almost forgotten. Well, mostly forgotten. “Better when you’re with me, but I’m afraid.” What if she finally got Drasko back only to lose him again?

  He brought her hand to his lips, brushing a kiss across her skin. “I will do whatever it takes to keep you safe.”

  She rested a hand on his chest, needing to feel his heartbeat, the man she’d been longing for, for what felt like an eternity. “I know you will, but I don’t want anything to happen to you. I’ve missed you so much.” She felt a mixture of despair, hope, and longing spinning around his soul like a cyclone. She pressed closer, until their breath mingled, and let her healing magic sink into him.

  He rested his forehead against hers with a sigh. “I’ve missed you, too. Your healing powers soothe my soul.”

  They jumped when the front door opened and Skoll came in, wielding his hatchet. “I smell a change in the air.”

  Drasko stood, going rigid as he faced his father. “What change?”

  “Dark magic.”

  Drasko’s nostrils flared. “I smell it, too. What do we do?”

  “Board up the doors and windows. The werewolves are near.”

  “Tatiana!” Bunica shrieked from above. “Open up.”

  Skoll scowled at the staircase. “What in Ancients’ name is going on?”

  Amara froze when a familiar howl sounded in the distance. She looked at Drasko and Skoll in wide-eyed disbelief. “That sounds like Tatiana.”

  Anton ran down the stairs, wildly waving his arms. “She escaped through the window.”

  Drasko let out a primal roar. “I’m going to kill her!”

  Skoll raised his hatchet, his voice dropping to a rumble. “You stay here. I’ll go after her.”

  “You can’t go alone.” Amara swung her legs over the side of the sofa, instantly regretting it when a wave of pain rolled through her. “You must take Drasko,” she grunted, doing her best not to hunch over.

  He shook his head. “I’m not leaving you without a protector.”

  “Then take us with you,” she pleaded. “We’ll stay in the truck.” Yeah, it was a lousy idea, but she couldn’t think of a better one, and they were wasting time.

  “But the baby.”

  “Will have to wait.” She heaved herself up, forcing herself to maintain a straight face when the cramping returned with a vengeance. “We can’t let her die.”

  “Amara is right,” Skoll said, turning the gleaming axe over in his hand. “We should stay together. It will be harder for werewolves to overpower two protectors than one.”

  “But Ranko Stormwatcher—” Drasko said.

  Anton bared his fangs. “Has fled by now, if he’s anything like his ancestors.”

  “Curse the Ancients!” Drasko dug into her shoulders as he looked at her with a mixture of panic and anger. “You do not get out of the truck, Amara. Do you understand?”

  “Believe me, I won’t.” She sucked in a hiss as another nauseating cramp hit. As if she could fight werewolves in her condition anyway.

  Chapter Twenty

  Hakon raced after Luc in wolf form, which was much faster than going on two feet. Rone and Amara’s fathers followed, leaving their scent behind so Amara’s grandfathers could easily find them. The route was longer than they’d hoped, and the snow was too deep in some spots. Luckily they hadn’t run into any hunters. Hakon suspected the weather had kept them home. He and his brothers should’ve been there, too, looking after Amara as her time drew near. Hakon wasn’t sure if he resented her brothers or their enemies more for forcing him away from his mate.

  We’re almost there, Luc said. Their scent is strong.

  Hakon smelled it, too. A dark cloud settled over him, and he knew they were approaching the veil.

  He heard the Albescu’s laughter before he saw them. As they rounded a copse of trees, the moon’s rays cut through the branches overhead, illuminating the Albescu protectors as they released the tailgate of an old pickup truck, sending the truck coasting down an incline and straight toward the veil. Hakon shifted into protector form, leaping over their heads and in front of the truck. He stopped it moments before it crossed the demonic curtain.

  The Albescus and Stormwatchers scattered, shifting back to humans and jumping into their other two vehicles. Hakon heaved the old truck around, using the front end as a shield in case his enemies pulled out dart guns. Amara’s bound, gagged, and completely naked brothers looked up at him from the rusty bed, shivering with wide-eyed fright. They each had small, blood-crusted dart holes in their necks or shoulders.

  Hakon shook his head. “Maybe next time you’ll listen to your grandfather.”

  Luc and Rone climbed into the truck bed in their human forms, completely naked and shivering, and holding blades between their teeth.

  “Time to get those amethysts out of you.” Eyes blazing, Luc snarled at Constantine. “It’s going to hurt, but I don’t give a damn.”

  “What kind of a chieftain sends wolves into hell! They are just boys!” Boris said behind them in his protector form, ripping a tree out of the ground and throwing it in the road, blocking it as Chieftain Obren started up his truck.

  Obren got out, shifting back into a furry, gray protector. “Do you think I like doing this, Boris Lupescu?” He stepped over the tree. “You leave me no choice when yo
u challenge my rule. You are outnumbered.” He waved at his family. “We will let you take your sons and leave in peace if you vow that your father and your family will no longer challenge my chiefdom.”

  Boris ripped up another tree and waved it at his enemies, sending them scurrying, the cowardly Stormwatchers retreating even farther than their in-laws.

  “I can make no such promises,” Boris declared.

  Obren’s son Atan howled beside his father. “Then you shall all die.”

  Luc flicked a small purple stone out of Constantine’s wound with the tip of his blade, sending it skidding across the rusty metal bed, and Constantine shifted. He bounded out of the truck and joined his fathers. Luc dug out Dimitri’s amethyst next, and Rone freed the younger two brothers. They followed Constantine, baring fangs and circling their enemies. Rone and Luc shifted into wolf form and jumped out of the truck.

  Keep an eye open for dart guns, Hakon warned.

  With a grunt, Hakon pushed the truck back up the hill toward Obren and Atan. Their adversaries scattered as the truck soared past them and hit the fallen tree. Hakon joined Amara’s family, fur standing on end, and did a quick count.

  Between the four packs, their adversaries were only missing two alphas, which meant Hakon and his in-laws were outnumbered. He let out a high-pitched howl, hoping Amara’s grandfathers would hear his distress cry and find them.

  Obren whistled to his family. They reformed their tight circle, with the exception of the Stormwatcher alpha and his two youngest brothers, who hung back by their truck.

  The warring packs circled each other, but nobody made a move. Boris and his brothers were buying time, hoping their fathers showed up. If not, Hakon still felt confident they could take down the Albescus and Stormwatchers as long as they didn’t play dirty.

  What a coward, Luc projected, snarling at the Stormwatcher tracker when he shifted and climbed in the truck.

  Hakon flashed Aguk Stormwatcher a fanged smile. I can’t wait to drive my fist through their alpha’s face. The tracker slipped something long and gray to Aguk Stormwatcher. Was it a gun? Hakon thought he’d seen a barrel.

  Go see what he’s hiding, he said to Luc.

  Luc disappeared, deftly hiding behind the snow-covered vegetation as he walked a wide circle around their packs.

  Rolling thunder, and the vibration of the ground buzzing through Hakon’s toes, heralded the arrival of Amara’s grandfathers. Klaus knocked down a tree, flying over Obren and landing on his feet. “You dare try to murder my grandsons?”

  Klaus’s second alpha brother, Nicolae, followed him, picking up the felled tree and swinging it at the Albescus.

  They were enough of a distraction for Luc to sneak up behind Aguk and rip the weapon out of his hands by clamping down on Aguk’s wrist with his fangs. Aguk screamed as if he’d been shot, dropping the gun in the snow. Luc grabbed the strap between his teeth, dragging it away while Aguk chased him. Luc proved too fast for Aguk. The Stormwatcher turned and ran when Hakon charged him.

  Luc left the weapon at Hakon’s feet. It’s a fully automatic weapon with enough bullets to take us all down.

  Hakon handed the gun to Klaus.

  “What is this?” Amara’s grandfather yelled, shaking the gun at Obren. “An automatic weapon?”

  Obren averted his eyes.

  “These are forbidden by our laws, Obren,” Klaus continued. “Laws which you, as chieftain, are supposed to uphold. Why would you let your grandsons have one?”

  Obren turned back to Klaus with a shrug. “For protection.”

  “Protectors don’t need guns to protect themselves.” As if to emphasize his point, Klaus bent the gun’s iron stock into the form of a U. “You’ve dishonored yourselves enough,” Klaus said. “Come fight us like real wolves.”

  Aguk Stormwatcher turned and ran, his brothers trailing him, their tails tucked between their legs.

  Let’s go after them, Luc cried.

  No. Hakon gritted his teeth, swearing under his breath as he watched them go. He wanted to chase the cowards and rip them to shreds, but he would not leave Amara’s family to fight the Albescus by themselves.

  “Your grandsons have left you.” Boris pointed to the retreating wolves with a burst of laughter. “Now our numbers are greater than yours.”

  Chieftain Obren stepped back. “If you attack us now, it would not be a fair fight. Our tribe will not support your claim to the chiefdom when they learn you fought dirty.”

  Klaus shook his head, snickering. “I’ve never known a bigger hypocrite. But because I do fight fair, I will even things out for you.” He waved to Hakon. “Go after them. I know you want to.”

  Hakon shifted into wolf form and leapt into the air. Rone ran beside him as they followed Luc while he scented the Stormwatchers’ trail.

  Revenge will be ours, brothers! Hakon howled. Time to crush skulls!

  WHEN SKOLL SLAMMED into park, Drasko jumped out of the truck, not surprised to find Ranko Stormwatcher standing on the front porch, balancing a shotgun on the railing with his one good arm, his glassy, drunken eyes shining in the light from the full moon. Drasko wondered if that bloody bandage wrapped around his head was from a confrontation with his family. If so, he hoped they had won the battle.

  “Don’t shoot!” Amara yelled through the open truck window.

  Drasko did his best to ignore his mate. He couldn’t let her distract him.

  Skoll got out of the truck and leaned across the hood of the cab. “Put away your gun, son. We mean you no harm.” Skoll remained surprisingly calm for a second alpha. Drasko admired his father for keeping his cool.

  “What are you doing here?” Ranko slurred his words, making it clear he was tired or he’d had too much to drink. Drasko had the feeling the empty beer bottles at his feet were the cause. What a pathetic excuse for a protector.

  “The Devoras have escaped the forest. They’re coming here.” Drasko tried to keep his cool while inhaling the strong sulfuric smell of dark, unnatural magic. He spied a large hole in the ground and wondered if the smell came from there, but, no. This stink had a coppery tint to it, the same scent he’d picked up on at Bunic Klaus’s house.

  Ranko knelt beside the gun, looking down the barrel. “You lie.”

  “I don’t lie,” Drasko said. “My sister escaped and came here to warn you. I suggest you and your family leave before they get here.”

  Just then, an unholy howl rent the air.

  Ranko lowered his gun, gaping at the forest.

  “Your gun won’t work on werewolves,” Drasko said. “Do you have a silver blade?”

  Ranko stumbled back, the gun slipping from his hands and tumbling into the snow next to the porch. “No.”

  Drasko grabbed an axe from the truck and tossed it to him. “Be ready!”

  Tatiana bounded into the clearing on all fours, yelping when she almost fell into the deep pit in front of the house. She jumped over the hole with surprising agility, tumbling into Drasko’s legs.

  “In the truck, Tatiana,” he growled.

  Amara opened the door for her, and Tatiana leaped inside, whimpering. Bunica draped a robe around her, and she shifted back into human form.

  “Hurry!” Tatiana cried. “They are right behind me.”

  The demonic howls grew louder. “This is your one chance,” Drasko said, jerking open the truck door. “Leave, or stay and die.”

  Ranko nearly tripped over his own feet as he spun and went into the house, screaming for his mate.

  “We’ve done all we can,” Skoll said. “Let’s go.”

  Drasko hesitated, worrying about Daniella and the children.

  “Now, Drasko!” Skoll yelled.

  His father was right. Drasko’s responsibility was to Amara and Tatiana. Ranko would have to take care of his own family.

  As soon as Drasko hopped in, Skoll backed up, wheels spinning in the snow. Skoll swore as he dug a deeper hole. Drasko jumped out, shifted into protector form, and pushed the vehicle out of th
e icy muck.

  “Look out!” Tatiana screamed.

  Drasko flung himself away from the truck as a snarling, fanged creature charged him. The beast howled as it rammed the tailgate, making the truck lurch forward and the passengers scream.

  Spitting out a mouthful of snow, Drasco scrambled to his feet, then ducked. A second beast flew over his head. Drasko heard the slam of the truck door and saw Skoll sprinting toward them, clutching two gleaming axes.

  “Catch!” Skoll threw one to Drasko, and they both started swinging.

  Drasko’s heart hammered a wild staccato in his ears as three ugly, fanged creatures with red, glowing eyes, long, pointy snouts, emaciated waists, and wide rib cages circled them. All stood erect but hunched, with long, razor claws, the venom from their fangs sizzling as it dripped on the snow.

  Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Ranko Stormwatcher shoving his mate and children into their truck before getting into the driver’s seat. Ranko turned over the engine several times before it started. He tore off, pelting them with rocks and snow as they sped past them.

  The truck didn’t make it out of the drive; it swerved and crashed into a tree.

  When the babies began to cry, all three monsters turned toward the sound, their ears twisting while they licked their fanged jowls with long, gray tongues.

  They leapt away with unnatural speed and landed on top of the truck, ripping open the top like it was a sardine can.

  Daniella Stormwatcher screamed. Ranko got out, shifting into protector form. He swung his axe at the creatures, but when the largest of the werewolves let out an ear-piercing howl and advanced toward him, he dropped his axe and ran, leaving his mate and children to face the demons alone. The larger demon bolted after Ranko, and they both disappeared in the trees.

  Drasko clutched the axe tightly and dashed toward Ranko’s truck, swinging at the two remaining monsters. Daniella threw herself across her children. Drasko was able to make the beasts back off, giving Skoll time to help Daniella and the children out of the truck. Skoll handed them off to Bunic Anton, who clutched both babies to his chest and ran back to his truck.