The Curse (Shifter Origins)

by Harper A. Brooks

  Erec smirked. Why wasn’t he surprised? “She can handle that spear better than most men,” he replied.

  “I’m guessing that wound of yours is also from the fight?”

  “Unfortunately Claus was able to get a strike in again,” Erec said.

  Filip’s mouth tugged down in a puzzled grimace. “Again? What do you mean?”

  “Claus is Jerrick’s hound. He was the one who knocked me out during the raid of Mikel’s camp. The reason I was buried in the snow.” Erec ground his teeth as his rage resurfaced. He should have been the one in Boden’s tent questioning Claus. The bastard owed him answers.

  “Oh.” Filip was quiet for a long moment. “Then you should come with me.”

  Erec paused, unsure what he meant. “Er—”

  “I was going to visit my father’s tent after finding you. Be a part of the questioning,” Filip said with a shrug. “I think you deserve to be there as well. Especially after what he did to you and Mikel. Would you like to ask some things?”

  Erec grinned. “Actually, I think I do have a few questions for him.”

  …

  The temperature inside Boden’s tent was sweltering. The heat hung in the air like a hazy cloud, making sweat bead on Erec’s forehead and upper lip as soon as he stepped inside the cramped space. He wasn’t sure if it was from the large bonfire just outside or from the five massive men squeezed in the single canvas shelter. Six, including Claus’s half-conscious body, which had been tied to a chair that sat at the center. His chin was tucked to his chest. The new gash across his left brow and swollen eyelid hinted that someone had landed at least one good punch on him already.

  Kalle and Bec stood behind Claus, shoulder to shoulder, with their hands cupped behind their backs. Bec’s bald head gleamed with perspiration. Although his expression remained stern, unreadable, there was a pleased smirk twisting Kalle’s lips. He must have been the one to knock Claus—payback for having to listen to hours of his blabbering.

  Boden hovered over all three, unaware Erec and Filip had entered. As he moved closer to the chair, the top of Boden’s head skimmed the tent’s ceiling. “Now.” His voice boomed. Boden clutched the handle of his broadax so tight, his knuckles were white. “Stop with the games! Tell me what Jerrick is planning. What’s his next move?”

  Claus’s chin lifted, his eyes wide with panic. The skin of his face was pale from the loss of blood, almost translucent. He sputtered a cough, causing the middle of his bottom lip to split open.

  “I’m losing my patience!” Boden bellowed, raising his weapon. The sharpened stone caught the candlelight and gleamed ominously.

  Claus eyed the axe and trembled. “All right!” His voice was barely audible, a raspy whisper full of fear. “I’ll tell you. I’ll tell you!” He took his time swallowing and finding a good position in the wooden chair. When he opened his mouth, only a strained gurgle came out. Erec couldn’t decipher any words from it.

  Claus swallowed again, and Boden leaned in.

  Then, Claus tilted his head up, closer to Boden’s ear. “You’re. Going. To. Die.” He spit at Boden’s face, but thankfully, the wad of blood and saliva narrowly missed his cheek. Red-stained teeth flashed as Claus threw his head back and burst into a fit of high-pitched laughter.

  Boden roared, whipping his axe behind him, ready to deliver a final blow. “You foul little—”

  Filip rushed forward and held up his hands to stop his father. “Father, don’t! We need him alive.”

  “Don’t you see? Claus wants us to kill him,” Erec added, his pulse racing. “Then we can’t get any of the information we want.”

  Boden froze. His gaze jumped between Erec and Filip, seeing them for the first time since they had entered the tent. “What is he doing in here?” he barked at his son. His red face gained even more color.

  Filip, though, kept his tone calm, even when Boden’s alpha spirit lashed out, swirling around the confined space like a tornado. “I brought him. Erec’s my guest.”

  Erec could sense Filip’s own alpha wolf receding, becoming only a flicker compared to Boden’s storm.

  “This is my private quarters,” Boden growled. His muscles bulged under his chainmail as he glared at Erec. “Get out.”

  Erec was about to protest, but Filip’s sharp, “No,” kept him from speaking. Filip pulled his shoulders back, and his wolf reared up again, meeting Boden’s head-to-head. The energy in the room intensified, making it hard for Erec to breathe. The air crackled and sparked around them. Claus’s maniacal laughter echoed in his eardrums, drowning all outside sounds.

  Kalle and Bec shifted uncomfortably on their feet. Erec’s skin crawled as power bounced between father and son.

  Despite the change in the atmosphere, Filip’s face remained smooth, his demeanor composed. “He stays,” he said.

  Boden’s shoulders dropped, and at the same time, his alpha wolf retreated. Immediately, a rush of relief flooded the tent and washed over Erec, as if someone had opened the tent’s flap, letting in the winter chill.

  “He can stay,” Boden snapped.

  Erec couldn’t believe Boden the Warrior had backed down a second time. Maybe his sickness was affecting him in more ways than they had seen. He was losing control over his alpha wolf, too.

  Claus’s wild gaze shot to Erec, and his cackling ceased. Slowly, his expression twisted into sinister amusement. “Where’s the little lady?” he drawled. “Astrid…I believe that was her name. Where is she?”

  Liquid fire pumped through Erec’s veins. If he hadn’t reached Astrid when he had back in the forest, who knows what terrible things Claus would have done to her. Just thinking about it made wrath slam against his temples and his vision blur. “I told you never to say her name,” he pushed through a clenched jaw.

  “Astrid? My daughter?” Boden grunted and pointed a meaty finger at Claus. “You keep her name out of your mouth and tell us where Jerrick is.”

  Claus’s gaze stayed trained on Erec. Studying him. Testing him. “The alpha’s daughter…” He drew in a long, deep breath and closed his eyes, as if he was recalling her scent. “Hmm… How delicious.”

  Erec growled and leaped forward, but Filip’s hand was quick on his chest to hold him back.

  “He’s trying to get a rise out of you, Erec.” But Filip’s calm voice wasn’t enough to tame the whirlwind building inside Erec. Filip may have been right, but the predatory gleam in Claus’s eye whenever he purred Astrid’s name was all it took to slingshot Erec’s anger forward. He knew what Claus wanted with her; he knew what he was insinuating. There wasn’t a chance he was going to let this monster so much as lay a finger on her. Over his dead body. Erec’s wolf may have been lost to him during the day, but he was no weakling in his human form. He’d rip him apart limb from limb if he had to.

  “She seems delicate. Soft. Like a flower.” A wicked grin formed on Claus’s face. “I can change that.”

  Erec lunged forward again, but this time, Filip didn’t attempt to stop him. Erec’s fist met Claus’s nose hard enough to throw him and the chair back on its rear legs. The simultaneous crunch confirmed bones were broken. When Kalle and Beck shoved Claus upright, Erec seized his shoulder in a deadly grip.

  “Tell us what Jerrick’s next step is,” Erec demanded. “Now!”

  Blood flowed from Claus’s nostrils like a waterfall, but he smiled through it. His laughter rang out, piercing.

  Erec’s patience was about to snap. He reached into his boot and yanked out his knife.

  “Erec…” Filip’s warning came from behind him.

  “Don’t worry. I’m not going to kill him.” Erec’s gaze fell to Claus’s legs. Someone had given him pants to cover his nakedness from the change, but a dark stain marked the fabric where Astrid’s spear had punctured his thigh muscle. With how deep the injury had been, there was no way it was fully healed. Just then, an idea struck. “But he’s going to tell us what we want to know.”

  “Oh, will I?” Claus’s brows rose in m
ock interest.

  Erec plunged the blade straight into the wound and gave it a hard twist. Claus wailed in pain, jerking against the rope restraints and thrashing.

  Erec’s nails bit into Claus’s shoulder to hold him still as he stared directly into his eyes. He’d waited too long for this—too long to taste any sort of revenge for Mikel’s death. Or for what had happened to Astrid in the woods. This filthy mutt was going to pay.

  “Unless you want to lose complete use of your leg—” Erec gripped the knife’s handle, ready to turn it again, “—I suggest you tell us where Jerrick is and what his next step is.”

  Claus fought more, throwing his massive frame side to side. The chair whined under the weight.

  Another spin of the dagger had Claus howling.

  Claus’s gaze whipped around the tent, his eyes wide with terror. Real terror. Erec could smell his fear leeching from his pores. “I don’t know where Jerrick is!” he gasped. “H-He had me scouting the forest for any wanderers. Rogues.” His voice broke, and he sucked in air through his teeth. “Anyone else he can recruit.”

  “He’s lying,” Boden shouted.

  “I don’t think he is,” Filip replied.

  “Of course he knows where Jerrick is,” Boden said. “He doesn’t want to give up his alpha.”

  Claus shook his head vigorously. “It’s true! He was searching for your p-pack. He was following your trail to your camp west of the river.”

  “What about the prisoners? Why did he leave them in the forest?” Erec asked. His fingers stayed wrapped around the knife’s handle.

  The tendons in Claus’s neck bulged through his skin as he held in the pain. “They were the ones who refused to join in his mission.”

  “And what mission is that?”

  “T-Take out all packs to form one. Become the sole alpha. Rule over all of the land,” Claus replied.

  “So, it’s true…” Filip whispered. Worry washed over his face.

  “Jerrick will be happy to see you’re still alive,” Claus said, glancing up at Erec. “He’s been looking for you.”

  Erec stiffened. He let go of the blade. “What? Looking for me?”

  Claus nodded.

  “Why?”

  Suddenly, Claus’s body sagged in the chair, exhausted. His head fell to his chest.

  Heart pounding, Erec grabbed his arms and gave him a firm shake. “What are you talking about?” he yelled in his face, but Claus’s eyelids drooped. “Why is Jerrick looking for me?” Was it because he was a rogue? Did he want to try and force him into his army? But how would Jerrick know he didn’t have a pack? He couldn’t. There was no way.

  Silence was the only response. Claus didn’t move.

  Erec cursed. Had he accidentally gone too far and killed him? He smacked Claus’s cheek a few times to force him to gain consciousness. His head rolled to the side.

  “Kill me…” Claus’s voice was hardly there at all, just a breathy grunt. “Kill me… Jerrick’ll do worse.”

  Boden stepped forward, axe in hand. “Let’s just put the dog out of his misery.”

  Filip’s hand shot up to stop him. “No, Father. We can’t. Remember?”

  “First tell me why Jerrick is after me,” Erec pushed Claus again for an answer. “What does he want with me?”

  When Claus opened his eyes again, pure, heated rage burned there. He turned to Boden and let out a menacing growl. “Kill me, old man!” he bellowed. “Do it! Where are your balls? Do it!”

  Boden’s nostrils flared, and his breathing became ragged.

  “You’re not an alpha! You’re not a man! Your mate would be ashamed!” Claus’s shouts filled the tent. Blood sprayed from his lips with every word. “She’s looking down at you now, wondering how she could ever be mated with such a failure.”

  Erec froze, knowing full well that Claus had gone too far. Everyone else knew it, too. They stood as still as statues as the tension in the room hit its peak. Mentioning Boden’s dead mate was the trigger Claus had been searching for. That was it.

  “Not even death could save her from the embarrassment,” Claus snapped. “Boden the Warrior? You’re Boden the weak!”

  Boden let out a deafening roar.

  This time, when he pulled back his enormous axe, preparing for the swing, no one dared to stop him.

  Chapter Thirteen

  After Astrid had finished handing out meat and bread to all of the survivors and got them settled in, she went to explore the rest of Svanna Rock. As she had expected, the large clearing was entirely surrounded by the massive pink stones. She didn’t know how much validity Erec’s story about Maurus held, but if she were a great and all-powerful wolf spirit, this would be her home of choice. It was more like a fortress than anything, completely closed off from the outside world. Protected. And from the many other tales she had heard about the first wolf of their kind, Maurus was ruthless and wouldn’t accept anything less.

  A giant bonfire had been constructed at the heart of the rock enclosure. Its tall flames tickled the sky, which was painted a fiery orange as the day gave way to night. The heat it emitted was soothing to Astrid’s bones, as was the familiar feeling of her wolf returning from its twelve-hour hibernation. If she beat the curse, she could have her animal with her during the day hours, too, and that was something she dreamed of. Once night fell and the moon rose, she was whole. She wanted to feel that way all the time.

  Her father’s tent sat directly behind the fire. Its flaps were tied shut, but that did little to withhold the strong scent of blood that leaked from it. As much as Claus deserved whatever was happening inside and as much as witnessing it would give her a sick sense of satisfaction, Astrid knew better than to interrupt her father when he was handling enemies. It was something she had learned growing up when she had accidentally walked in on one of his interrogations as a child. The scene had given her nightmares for weeks. He may have always been sweet to her, but her father had gotten his reputation and his name of Boden the Warrior for a reason.

  Astrid found her tent near the bonfire, too, along with a few others, like Filip and Mila’s, which was just a few tents down. She recognized her brother’s because of the sound of his son Finn’s earsplitting wails, and hers from the fragrant scent of lilacs drifting from the structure. Her favorite flower. She inhaled deeply, loving the smell combined with the warmth of the fire on her cheeks. It reminded her of springtime, her favorite season.

  Astrid glanced over at the entrance of Svanna Rock, where she’d left Erec. He wasn’t there, and she wondered where he had gone. Where would he be setting up his tent? She hoped it was near hers. If her father had any say, it wouldn’t be.

  “Ash.” Filip’s deep voice rang out from behind her, making her spin around. As he strode toward her, a wall of pure crackling energy smacked into her, strong enough to knock the breath from her lungs—the aura of an alpha wolf, and it was coming from her brother. Around him, a hue of gold glittered, just like it had around her father.

  Confused, Astrid stared at him, wondering if she had misread something. But the closer her brother got, the more intense the aura became. It didn’t make sense. She had just seen her father, and his wolf had been just as powerful, just as encompassing as it always had been. What was going on?

  Before Astrid could say a word, Filip ushered her inside her tent and fastened the latches behind them. His expression was weary when he met her gaze, and knowing her all too well, he held up a hand to let him speak first.

  “Before you ask,” Filip began in a rushed whisper, “I don’t know how it happened or how it’s even possible, but what you’re feeling isn’t a delusion. My wolf has claimed its place as alpha.”

  “You and Father? There can’t be two alphas in one pack,” she replied, taking Filip’s cue and keeping her voice low.

  “I know.” He scrubbed a hand over his face and let out a hard sigh. “I know. But I guess with everything going on with Father…” He paused then decided to continue a different way. “It happen
ed after you left to rescue the prisoners.”

  “Well, make it stop,” she said, firmly. “Father isn’t dead. Can’t you push it back or something? Refuse it?”

  He shook his head. “It’s not that easy.”

  Astrid grunted. When two alphas from neighboring packs got together, for any circumstance, the tension was high enough. Alphas didn’t like to be challenged, so Astrid couldn’t imagine having two alphas ruling over one pack. It was dangerous. Deadly, even. “What did Father say about this?”

  “He hasn’t mentioned it, but I know he feels it, too. Our wolves almost clashed in his tent, while questioning Claus. It’s hard to ignore.”

  “I’ve never heard of a pack having two alphas before. What does this mean?”

  “It’s impossible to have two,” Filip said, his face grim. “Father will either have to step down or…” He trailed off, his gaze drifting over to one of the canvas walls.

  “Or what?”

  “Or one of us will have to challenge the other to be the pack’s alpha.”

  She gasped, dread encasing her heart. When two wolves challenged each other, it meant a fight, usually for dominance or territory. There could only be one winner, and the loser…he would die. Filip respected their father too much to take him out, but he did have a mate and a son to worry about. And Father, he loved his children more than himself, but he’d been alpha since youth. Would he give it up that easily?

  When Astrid met Filip’s eyes again, she could see the same realizations and questions hovering there. Filip wasn’t sure what he would do if challenged, either, and that scared her.

  “And what of the pack?”

  “I’ve tried to have as little interaction with people as possible. And with everyone busy settling in, I’ve been able to get away with it.” Then he added, “For the most part.”