by Tara West
Eilea was at a loss for words. An abomination? She had faced all kinds of prejudice in her life, but never had she been more offended, more pained, by Nakomi’s insult.
“Excuse me?” Amara snapped. “My mom was human.”
Nakomi skirted her mate’s bed and wagged a finger in Amara’s face. “And where is she now?”
“Dead, as far as I know.”
“As far as you know?”
Amara looked out the infirmary windows. “We weren’t close.”
Nakomi let out a grating squeal of laughter. “Exactly. Humans are incapable of loving their shifter offspring.” She snarled at Eilea, eyes shifting from mahogany to gold. “If she mates with your fathers, she will only bring heartache to them and any children they conceive.”
“I beg your pardon.” Indignation made her blood boil. “You don’t know that. You don’t know anything about me.”
Nakomi gave Eilea a long look meant to intimidate, a look that said Eilea was no more significant than the mold growing under her shoes. “I know you are human, and that is enough for me.”
“And what do you know of humans?” she retorted. How dare this wolf-girl pretend to know anything about her species.
Nakomi’s full lips thinned into a wicked grin. “I know they are greedy and selfish and not like our kind.”
That bitch! Of all the fucking nerve. Eilea had quit her career as an esteemed surgeon in Houston’s top hospital and moved to nipple-biting, bear-shitting Alaska to help Nakomi’s kind. Wasn’t that proof enough she was anything but selfish? And what about Uncle Joe? He’d been so dedicated to the Amaroki, he’d ignored his own flesh and blood when she’d needed a father figure. Did their sacrifices mean nothing? “You’re wrong.”
“Am I?” Nakomi laughed. “You humans care more about celebrity gossip than helping your neighbors.”
“Don’t listen to her, Eilea,” Amara said. “She’s generalizing.”
“No, I’m not.” Though Nakomi spoke to Amara, she kept her wolfish gaze trained on Eilea. “I’ve had enough dealings with humans to know. You cannot mate with Amaroki.” Her words were harsh. “You will not make a good mother.”
Nakomi’s accusation was like an arrow of venom shooting straight into her heart. “You might think you know humans, but you know nothing about me. After my loving mother was killed by a drunk driver, I was raised by a caring, sweet grandmother.” She recalled her mother’s gentle touch and grandmother’s kind smile. Her gram was different than most grandmothers, a little quirky and sometimes embarrassing with her weird voodoo beliefs, but she had loved her. She’d died of a stroke ten years ago, leaving a hole in Eilea’s heart the size of Texas. “If I ever have a child, I’ll love that child as much as the women in my life loved me.”
“You won’t have a child if you mate with them.” Nakomi crossed to Eilea, flashing the fingers of one hand. “You will have five, and you will have to raise them. Are you prepared to give up being a doctor?”
Amara slipped between them. “Step back, Nakomi.” Amara’s command was low yet powerful.
Silence stretched between them, mimicking the widening chasm in Eilea’s heart.
Five kids? One or two, maybe, but five? No. Fucking. Way.
Nakomi laughed triumphantly. “I knew it.”
AFTER MAKING THE ROUNDS, Eilea stole away for a moment to herself. Nakomi’s words had shaken her so badly, she needed time to decompress. She snuck into her office, locking the door behind her, angry when she couldn’t find her bag of dark chocolates to console her. She dug through the trash, not surprised to find the empty bag and wrappers. Jimmy had literally eaten everything in her stash.
Douche-nugget.
Surrendering to fatigue, she laid her head on her desk, berating herself when her eyes watered. She had no idea why she was crying. It wasn’t like Nakomi had told her anything new. Eilea knew it would never work out with the Lupescu brothers, but deep in her soul, there had been a flicker of hope, a tiny ember in the chasm of despair and darkness. Now that ember had been snuffed for good. Even if she wanted to mate with the Lupescus, there would be other prejudiced shifters like Nakomi, determined to make her life miserable for thinking humans and shifters could mate.
Those few tears turned into a steady trickle. She sobbed into her arms, mourning the loss of the family she’d once had and the one she’d never have. Why had her Christian god taken her parents? Why had the Amaroki gods taunted her with the hope of a new family?
At some point her tears turned into soft sobs, and then her sobs mellowed out into slow and steady breathing. Damn, she was tired. She closed her eyes. Maybe all she needed was some sleep. Maybe fatigue had burned out her adrenals, and her body was signaling she had to rest. Maybe she’d no longer be depressed after she recharged.
Chapter Nine
EILEA DREAMED SHE WAS floating across the clouds in an ethereal place illuminated by a glowing moon that hung low in the sky, like a giant bloated thumb. To the right was a stone well, swirling mists pouring out like a smoking volcano. In front of her was a buffet offering breads, cheeses, fruits, and meat. Beside that was an intricate iron table and two chairs. Just beyond the buffet was a shadowy forest, treetops lit by the moon’s rays.
Mist flowed around her like the currents of a stream, tickling her bare feet. She was no longer wearing her hospital scrubs but a beautiful, silky dress with straps that looped around her neck and bared her shoulders. The straps dug into her skin, like they would in real life, and details were surprisingly clear.
A cloaked shadow emerged from the forest, floating to her as if being propelled on a current of air.
It pulled down a hood, revealing a beautiful woman with alabaster skin, dark hair, and silvery eyes. “Hello, Eilea.” She gestured to the table of food. “Won’t you join me for a repast?”
She warily eyed the woman. “Where am I?”
The woman piled a platter with food and set it on the smaller table. “You are in Valhol.”
Eilea’s stomach rumbled at the tantalizing smell of fragrant cheeses and meats. “What is that?” She vaguely remembered her uncle telling her something about Valhol being the shifter name for heaven, but no, she couldn’t be there.
Her smile widened, revealing a dimple on either side of her mouth. “Think of it as heaven.” She poured crimson liquid from a jug into two silver goblets.
“Heaven? Am I dead?”
“Certainly not.” Her laughter was light and lilting. “You are a temporary visitor.”
She looked over her shoulder at the mists that ran down behind her, falling over the edge of what appeared to be a cliff, then descending into darkness. A mournful howl coming from somewhere beyond the forest drew her attention. Was it a wolf or something more sinister? A terrifying thought struck her. If she was in the afterlife, were spirits here, too?
“Is Katarina here?” she blurted, her stomach twisting. The food no longer smelled good.
She shook her head. “If she was here, she wouldn’t be haunting the Amaroki.”
“Who are you?” Eilea asked sharply.
The woman splayed her hands and sat on the edge of the chair. “I am the Goddess Amara.”
That was the Amaroki goddess who’d frequented Amara Thunderfoot’s dreams. “You are one of the Ancients. My friend Amara is named after you.”
The goddess nodded. “She is.”
“Why have you brought me here?” she asked, fearing the answer.
“To talk.” The goddess took a long sip from her goblet. She motioned to the chair beside her. “Please sit.”
Eilea did so, prepared to bolt if things went sideways, though where she’d run to, she had no idea.
“Have some wine,” the goddess said, pushing the goblet toward her.
She scowled at the swirling crimson liquid. “I’m on duty.”
“Of course.” The goddess laughed, “But you are dreaming now. A little wine in a dream won’t hurt. It may even help.” The goddess picked up her goblet and drank ag
ain.
She had a funny feeling in her stomach, like she was being tricked. “What’s in it?”
“Wine spiked with the blood of my mates,” the goddess said casually, as if drinking blood was an everyday occurrence.
“You’re trying to feed me blood?”
Her red lips stood out against her porcelain skin. “You want to be like us, don’t you?”
“I never said—”
The goddess held up a silencing hand. “No truer words are spoken than in the longing of one’s soul.”
“Wh-what?” she stammered, though she knew what the goddess was saying.
“You have always wanted a culture to belong to, have you not?”
She averted her eyes. “I never said that.” But she’d thought it many times.
“You thought you’d find camaraderie among your fellow doctors, but they disrespected you because of your ancestry and sex.” The goddess ran a fingertip over the rim of her goblet. “You searched for your heritage among the Africans, but they mistrusted your American birth. You sought acceptance from your uncle, but he always put the Amaroki people above you.”
She swallowed the lump of granite that had formed in her throat. Had the goddess been reading her mind? If so, there was no use denying it. She’d always wanted to belong to something, anything. She’d lived a lonely life with just her eccentric grandmother, but there was no way she could change who she was. Could she? “What’s your point?”
She tossed her curtain of black hair back. “How do you think I became a shifter?”
“I don’t know.”
“It is a very long story, one perhaps your mates can tell you, but I wasn’t born a shifter. I became one through the blood of my mates.”
“Hang on.” Eilea abruptly stood, looking at the goblet as if it held poison. “You want to turn me into a shifter?”
“I’m offering you the blood of the Amaroki.” The goddess gave her a pointed stare. “What you do with it is your choice.”
If she was turned into a shifter, she could mate with the Lupescus. She would belong to them, and that was the crux of the problem. She didn’t want to belong to any man. But how amazing her life would be as a shifter. She’d have an instant family she could rely on. “This isn’t something I can decide in a second.”
“I figured you’d be pragmatic about this,” the goddess said and sighed. “Very well. I’ll bring you back one more time. Think about it. Choose wisely. Once made, you will not be able to change your decision.”
A KNOCK ON THE DOOR awakened Eilea. She sat up and checked the time. She’d slept two hours, probably not long enough to enter into deep sleep but enough to dream. What had she been dreaming about? She vaguely remembered a beautiful woman and clouds, but her mind was too fuzzy to piece together the rest.
When the knocking persisted, she stumbled to the door and unlocked it before falling into her chair.
Amara Thunderfoot hung over her like a mother hen. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah.” Eilea yawned into her hand. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
“You’ve been in here a long time.” She took a closer look. “Have you been crying?”
“Crying?” Eilea wiped moisture from her face. “I fell asleep.”
“Oh, good. I thought Nakomi upset you.”
She grimaced, recalling the African shifter’s harsh words. “She did.”
Amara knelt beside Eilea and took her hands in hers. “Don’t listen to her. I work almost every day as the tribal healer, and Rone watches the kids. You don’t have to give up your career. I’m sure the Romanian tribe would appreciate a medical doctor who understands them.”
She jerked free of Amara’s grasp. “I’m not moving to Romania. After this is all over, I’m turning in my resignation and moving back to Houston.”
“But why?” Amara cried in surprise.
“Nakomi was right. I don’t want five kids. I don’t want to be married to four controlling men.”
Amara plastered on a forced smile. “I didn’t either at first, but I love my life now.”
“Amara, you’re a shifter. I’m not. I’m not meant for this world.” A vague memory flitted through her mind. She saw a goblet of red wine and a beautiful woman offering to turn her into a shifter. Where had that come from?
“If you’d just give them a chance,” Amara pleaded. “They are only controlling when your safety is threatened.”
“Which will be all the time.” Amara would be upset for her fathers, but it couldn’t be helped. She would not choose a life out of guilt.
“You don’t know that,” Amara said, sounding like a deflating balloon.
“No, Amara.” Eilea turned up her chin, steeling her resolve. “It would never work, and I refuse to lead them on.”
The beautiful woman’s face appeared again, this time as a wisp of smoke in the window above Eilea’s desk.
“You have until the next full moon.” The woman’s lips didn’t move, but Eilea heard her voice as clear as day.
She pointed at the window. “Are you seeing this?”
Amara stood. “Seeing what?”
Eilea blinked hard, and the woman was gone. “My fucking insanity, that’s what.”
BORIS AND JOVAN WERE hulking white beasts outside, pacing the perimeters of the building with gleaming axes slung across their broad shoulders, looking into the forest with narrowed eyes like they expected the boogie man to come out and attack them. A white wolf Eilea assumed was Marius accompanied them. What the heck? Why were they in shifter form? Was it to ward off ghosts or something worse? She didn’t see Amara’s mate, Drasko, but she assumed he was somewhere out there, too.
Geri sat in the waiting room, chair propped up against the makeshift door, an axe lying across his legs. She thought about asking him what was going on, but decided she’d rather not know. She had enough to worry about. She could tell Geri was tired by the way his head kept bobbing toward his chest, his eyelids heavy. Hell, everyone was exhausted. Even Nakomi had finally agreed to take a power nap in one of the exam rooms, demanding that Eilea wake her in a few hours. She didn’t want to anger the shifter, but she was sorely tempted to let her sleep the rest of the night. Maybe she’d wake in a better mood. And maybe shit-eating gremlins would fly out of Eilea’s ass.
She made the rounds again, dismayed when not one patient had a reduction in fever. How could they sustain such high fevers for so long? Night had fallen. The days were rapidly getting shorter as winter approached. Eilea sure as hell hoped they figured out how to close the portal before winter swallowed them whole. Drasko had informed her they were relocating at dawn. She worried about the Spiritcaller alpha, whose oxygen level was critically low. How would he handle the move?
Raz was softly snoring beside one of her mates, curled up like a cat at the foot of his bed. How did the old woman have such flexibility? Amara looked after Nakomi’s mates, keeping cool compresses on their heads. She was a great help, even if she couldn’t access her healing powers.
Jimmy kept to himself, constantly telling everyone he had to check on supplies when he only went into the janitorial closet to let out gas. Sadly, he didn’t wait long enough, and most of the smell followed him back out. Amara finally said something.
With an exaggerated pout, he stormed into the bathroom, slamming the door behind him.
Amara laughed under her breath. “Douche.”
Jimmy emerged from the bathroom about an hour later, throwing an empty bottle of antacid medicine in the garbage.
He ambled around the infirmary, groaning and rubbing his belly while pretending to be helping, but mostly he just got in the way. Though Eilea tried to focus on her patients, she could feel his eyes boring holes in her skull. What the hell was the matter with him?
He circled the room, edging a little closer to her with each pass.
Jesus, the guy was creepy as fuck.
Finally, he was just one bed away, pretending to check a bed pad when she knew he had no intention of changing it. “H
ey, sorry about earlier,” he blurted.
She gritted her teeth. “About what?”
“You know.” He shrugged, flashing a bashful grin.
She wasn’t fooled “Let’s see.” She counted on her fingers. “You flirted with me, then stole my food, then nearly knocked me out with your flatulence.”
“All of the above.” His flush deepened, making him look like an overripe carrot with that fake tan. “I don’t usually fart. Those fiber bars were really strong.”
“Everyone farts, but whatever.” She felt the elder Spiritcaller’s pulse. It was weak but still there. His raised welts had scabbed over and turned a dark green, looking like dried up slugs. She was alarmed when she touched one, and it crumbled apart like dead leaves. If she didn’t know better, she’d have sworn the man was petrifying.
“Do you have a thing for that shifter?” Jimmy said at her back.
She stiffened, speaking through tight lips. “The one who had you in a chokehold?”
“Yeah.”
“Why is it any of your damn business?” This asshole was getting on her last nerve.
“I don’t know. I just thought it was weird. I mean, I’m all for interracial dating, but people should stick to their own species.”
She imagined she was channeling Nakomi’s inner-wolf. “Can you stop talking now?”
“Is it because I’m white? Because color doesn’t matter to me. Actually, I lied.” He flashed a sideways smile. “It does matter. I prefer dark chocolate to white chocolate.”
Her jaw dropped. “Excuse me?” She was so stunned, she didn’t know what to say. Was this douche calling her a candy bar?
“You know what they say.” He waggled his brows. “The darker the chocolate, the sweeter the flavor.”
She blinked. “That doesn’t make any sense. Milk chocolate is sweeter than dark chocolate.” Surely nobody was that stupid. She wished he was a figment of her imagination. That would make sense, since she was currently living in a nightmare.