Tempted by Her Wolves: A Reverse Harem Paranormal Romance (Hungry for Her Wolves Book 4)

by Tara West

  “We had one television in our house. Our mate watched it.”

  “And you didn’t?”

  “I don’t care for technology. I have farm work to do. Besides, our mate didn’t like company when she watched her shows.” Actually, Katarina hadn’t liked their company at all, not after she’d discovered soap operas. Geri hadn’t liked competing for Katarina’s affection with a television. They’d fought about it more than once, making him resent the technology even more.

  “Well, your ignorance shows,” Annie said. “You’re going to be in the doghouse for a while.”

  He contemplated her words. Perhaps she didn’t realize the complications from Eilea’s lost virginity. Their pack might not be able to seal the bond with her. The bond enabled them to telepathically speak with her. He’d heard rumors of other packs sealing the bond after taking their mate’s virginity before the ceremony, but he wasn’t sure if it could be done. Not that they were sure if they could anyway, being that she was human. Geri had been upset when he’d called Eilea a whore, but he didn’t realize what that might mean to her. Or maybe deep down he did. Maybe he meant to insult her, repay her for her infidelity. But had she been unfaithful? She hadn’t known Geri and his brothers then. Geri had been unfair and unkind, punishing her for her past, maybe even for Katarina’s past. Great Ancients, what had he done?

  She pulled over and turned off the truck.

  “What are you doing?”

  “This is as far as we can go by vehicle.” She gazed at a worn path cutting through the forest. “We’ll have to go the rest of the way as wolves.” She slipped off her seatbelt and got out.

  Geri grabbed his axe and joined her. The smell of dark magic was strong here. No way was he going into that forest without a silver blade, the only thing that could kill the demons that manifested in haunted forests. The hairs on the back of his neck stood when he caught a familiar scent. His stomach roiled. He’d only smelled that odd coppery smell once before, the night the Devoras had emerged from the Hoia Baciu as werewolves.

  “I can’t shift,” he said.

  “Why?” She took off her jacket.

  “Because I need to carry my axe.” He slung it over his shoulder, the silver blade gleaming in the light of the full moon. “So do you.”

  She shook her head. “We’ll never reach them.”

  She was pulling off her shoes when the stench of blood and rot hit him.

  He held out a staying hand. “Hang on.”

  She made a spluttering noise behind him. “What’s that stink?”

  “Great Ancients.” He breathed in deeply, recognizing at least three decomposing bodies mixed with the dark, coppery stench of evil. “I recognize it. Get back in the truck.”

  An unearthly howl shattered the stagnant air.

  Clutching his axe like a lifeline, Geri said, “Get in the truck!”

  “Not without you.” She tugged his arm.

  He shook her off. A slanted pair of blood-red eyes blinked at him from within the trees. He had barely enough time to push Annie to the ground and swing his axe when a demonic creature with patches of gray, matted fur, a wide, bony ribcage, and an emaciated waist sprang from the shadows, blood and poison dripping down the distended fangs, sizzling when it splattered the ground.

  Geri barely registered Annie screaming when his axe went into the demon’s chest. The beast lurched, then let out an eerie wail, grasping the handle before Geri swung around him, driving the axe farther in and jerking it out the creature’s spiny back.

  The monster looked at the gory wound in its chest with a slackened jaw. It tipped over, its body breaking in two pieces. Annie scrambled back when the creature shattered on the ground in a cloud of dust and smoke.

  She looked at Geri in horror. “What the fuck was that?”

  “A werewolf,” Geri answered grimly. “And there will be more.” He thought about retreating, but he refused to bring werewolves to the lodge, endangering his family. Besides, they had to get that witch. He prayed she hadn’t been eaten.

  Annie jerked her axe out of the truck. “I’m ready.”

  He admired the girl’s bravery and sent a prayer to the Ancients her courage wouldn’t get her killed.

  When three more werewolves emerged from the forest, he braced for battle. “You ready, kid?”

  “Not really.” The tremors in her voice revealed her fear. “But I won’t go down without a fight.”

  “Get in the truck bed,” he said. “Aim for their necks.”

  He didn’t have time to see if she followed his orders because a werewolf sprang at him. With a roar, he drove his blade into the beast’s neck, slicing off his head with a sickening crunch. The monster turned to dust before the head hit the ground.

  He whirled when Annie screamed, driving his axe into the ankle of a beast that had climbed up on the hood of the truck. The monster howled, scrambling over the top of the vehicle, right into her axe. She drove the blade through its skull, making disgusted noises when green goo splattered her. The monster rolled off and hit the ground in a cloud of smoke.

  “Look out!” she yelled, pointing.

  He spun around in time to duck when a drooling beast swiped at him with elongated claws as sharp as razors. A sickening screech rent the air when the monster sliced open the side of the truck, peeling back the steel panel in long curls.

  She jumped away from the creature when it snapped at her. Geri drove his blade into its back, dragging his weapon down the ridged spine, like he was slowly opening a zipper. It arched back with a squeal, its spine curling around Geri’s hands before falling out of the open cavity, clattering on the rocks like wooden bowls.

  The werewolf looked over its shoulder, whimpering, then curled into a petrified ball.

  Geri scented the air for any more threats. When he didn’t find any, he leaned his axe against the truck tire. Wiping sweat and goo off his brow, he looked at Annie. “Are you okay?”

  She was hunched over, clutching her knees. “I think I pissed my pants.”

  “You were amazing,” Geri said, impressed with her stamina and bravery.

  She flung goo off her clothes and face. “Thanks.”

  Funny how he’d once thought of Amaroki women as vulnerable and in need of protection. Maybe because Katarina had always acted helpless, relying on her mates to do everything for her. He realized it had been unfair to judge other women based on Katarina. His dead mate had been a special kind of selfish.

  “You sure we can’t reach the Cloudwalkers on foot?” he asked.

  She slanted a smile. “We’re going to have to, because no way in hell am I giving up my axe.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  AFTER CLEANING HER wounds and donning fresh hospital scrubs, Eilea returned to the main hall, relieved when she didn’t see Nakomi. In fact, her mates’ beds were empty. What had happened to them?

  She searched for Amara among the sick, dismayed when they vomited in buckets, on the floor, and even on themselves. Family members were doing their best to take care of loved ones. How horrible they must feel to know they would soon succumb to a sickness with no cure. And their numbers had doubled since she’d gone to sleep. She felt helpless.

  You have it in you, Eilea, a voice whispered in her ear. No one was near her. Had she imagined the voice?

  She spotted Amara Thunderfoot, but it took a long while for her to work her way through the crowd, as she checked on babies and administered fever reducer and fluids, hoping to make a small difference to those who needed her most.

  When she finally made it to Amara, her heart slammed against her ribcage when she saw that Hakon and Rone Thunderfoot had become ill. Her blotchy face marred with tracks of dried tears, Amara stoically took care of her mates and in-laws, changing their cold compresses and checking their fluids. Her two babies cried in a crib nearby, begging to be held.

  “Amara,” she said, her heart so heavy it felt near to bursting as she took the smallest child, Alexi, in her arms. “I’m so sorry.”
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  “Not your fault.” Amara smoothed a hand across Rone’s brow. Her mate didn’t respond. Other than his ragged breathing, he lay motionless on his cot.

  She checked the baby’s temperature, relieved to see it was normal. She hated how he cried when she set him down, but she had to check his brother, Hrod. Both children had normal temps, but they appeared dehydrated.

  “Amara,” she asked. “Have you had time to nurse?”

  “I haven’t had time to eat, much less feed them.” She nodded to Tor, his legs so long they hung over the short cot. “My father-in-law’s temperature is too high.”

  Hating herself for ignoring cries for help, Eilea pushed her way through the throng and found a bag of MREs, as well as formula and bottles, diapers, and wipes. After shoving the stuff in a bag, she took the stairs two at a time and handed Amara two MREs and gave each baby a bottle. “Eat,” she said to Amara, holding Alexi. “You will be no good to anyone if you pass out.”

  Nodding, Amara slumped on Rone’s cot and hastily ate her meal.

  Eilea sat nearby with Alexi in her lap. The baby sucked down his bottle too fast and greedily took another. Balancing the baby in one arm, she opened an MRE and spoon-fed Hrod macaroni and cheese. “Where are the Strongpaws?” she asked and held her breath, afraid to hear the answer. Had they succumbed to their illness?

  Amara’s face blanched. “We moved them to a private room while you were sleeping.”

  “Why?”

  “Albert is petrifying,” she whispered, eyes wide with fear.

  Eilea helped Alexi burp. “What?”

  Alexi let out a cry that yanked at her heartstrings and held out his arms to his mama. Amara took him, stricken when he crawled over her lap to snuggle against Rone. The unconscious shifter struggled for each ragged breath, unaware of the baby who wrapped his pudgy arms around his neck.

  Amara stifled a sob. “I don’t know how much longer I can do this.”

  Eilea picked up Alexi, bouncing him on her hip and trying to distract him when he reached out to Rone, calling “Dada.” She held him tighter, whispering soothing words in his ear. She was suddenly transported to the moment she’d awakened alone in that hospital room, calling for her father, but he never came. She rocked Alexi and sang a lullaby her grandmother had taught her. She’d probably screwed up most of the words, but it didn’t matter. The baby didn’t need lyrics.

  Despite the sounds of sickness and beeping of equipment around them, Alexi finally fell asleep. Amara took him from her, kissing the top of his head before laying him in the playpen beside his brother, who’d also fallen asleep.

  “Rone was such a good daddy.” Amara sniffled, wiping her eyes. “I don’t know what I’m going to do without him.”

  She laid a hand on Amara’s shoulder. “He’s not dead yet.” She cringed at her words. She knew there was little hope for the sick.

  “We believe Albert Strongpaw is turning into a werewolf.” Amara blinked back tears, biting on her knuckles as she stared longingly at her mates. “They all are.”

  “Jesus,” Eilea said, sinking down on a cot, a knot twisting in her stomach.

  Boris, Jovan, and Marius weren’t immune to this sickness either. It was only a matter of time before they succumbed to the disease, then what? For over a year, she’d fought the notion of getting together with the shifter brothers, worried they’d be too controlling. Now it appeared they’d never have a chance to mate. The thought made her heart ache so badly, she had to clutch her chest, breathing in through a hiss to manage the pain. She hadn’t spent much time with Jovan and Marius, but from the little time she’d shared with Boris, she knew he was a good man, putting her needs before his, caring too much about her wellbeing. He would’ve made a good mate and a wonderful father, but she’d never get to experience any of that with any of them except maybe Geri, the one brother who’d pleasured her and then called her a whore.

  “If you want to leave, I won’t blame you,” Amara said.

  “I’m not leaving.” No way in hell would she abandon the Amaroki when they needed her most.

  Amara narrowed her eyes to slits. “What happened to your neck?”

  Her hand flew to the scratch on her neck. The pain was nothing compared to the suffering of the Amaroki.

  Amara’s lips twisted. “Did Nakomi attack you?”

  Eilea heaved a groan and rose to her feet. “I need to make my rounds. I don’t want to get into it.”

  Amara’s arm shot out, blocking her from going. “At least let me heal you.”

  She felt selfish for even considering taking the shifter’s offer when there were others far worse off than her. “I’m fine.”

  “You don’t want my fathers seeing your injury.” Amara said coolly. “There’s no telling what they will do to Nakomi.”

  Awareness was like a cold bucket of water. “Christ. Fine.”

  Amara offered Eilea the faintest of smiles before placing a dry hand on her neck.

  Closing her eyes and lifting her chin, she waited for the magic to soak into her skin. She held her breath, waiting, and felt nothing. The look of panic in Amara’s eyes told her all she needed to know.

  Amara looked down at her hands as if seeing them for the first time. “I-I don’t understand what’s happening. It’s like my magic has dried up.”

  “I’ll tell you what’s happening,” a crackly voice said behind them.

  Raz peered at them, deep lines crinkling her foggy eyes. The matronly woman pointed at Amara with a crooked finger. “The portal is poisoning you, stripping you of your powers. Soon it will affect all of us, and we won’t be able to shift.”

  “Great Ancients.” Amara’s hand flew to her throat. “I thought I was immune.”

  Raz clucked her tongue. “Immune to the virus maybe, but not to the powers of the veil. This entire region will be like the Hoia Baciu unless we close that portal.”

  Lowering herself on Rone’s cot, Amara hung her head. “Let us pray to the Ancients that Annie and my father are successful.”

  Eilea was so petrified, she went numb. “Geri told me he was going to root out the witch, not close a portal.”

  “That’s right.” Amara blinked up at her. “He went to find the witch.”

  Eilea slowly lowered herself onto a stool. “Why do I feel something horrible will happen to him?”

  “Because you are a loving and concerned mate,” Raz answered.

  Eilea blushed. She did care for Geri, even though he’d been a first-rate jerk. She hoped his insult was a cultural misunderstanding and not an attempt to hurt her. Dread grew like a virus when Amara looked away.

  “There’s something you’re not telling me.” Eilea leveled Amara with a hard stare.

  “They went in search of the Cloudwalkers,” Amara said. “We suspect one of their women may be a witch.” She paused, then spoke on a rush of air. “They live close to the portal.”

  Eilea’s veins solidified, her heart slowing to a dull thud like her veins were filled with sludge. “And Geri and Annie went after them alone?”

  Amara threw up her hands. “Who else could go with them?”

  “How dangerous is it?”

  When Raz and Amara shared dark looks, warning bells went off in Eilea’s head.

  “There are usually demons near a portal,” Amara said quietly.

  Eilea’s world came to a grinding halt. “Oh god.”

  Raz shook her head. “Your god can’t save them now.”

  AFTER OVER AN HOUR of hacking through brush and climbing dangerous, steep terrain, Geri and Annie finally arrived at what was left of the Cloudwalker dwelling.

  They were going to find the shifters had perished. He’d smelled their blood for miles. What he wasn’t expecting was the extent of the carnage. Limbs and heads of what appeared to have been two packs of wolves were strewn everywhere. Even the protectors had been in wolf form, which meant they’d been caught unawares. Hadn’t they scented the werewolves approaching? Wouldn’t their instinct have warned them
of the danger? Only one of the wolves had an intact head, though he’d been gutted, his innards strewn across the ground as if his killer had used them to play jump rope. That wolf would need to be burned to ensure he didn’t turn into a werewolf. Actually, they all should be burned, just in case.

  The wind shifted, bringing with it a thin, pungent mist. A strange fog filled his brain. What was he doing again? He looked down at the mauled bodies of wolves. Why were they dead, and why had he come here? He looked at the axe in his hand, which was encrusted with dried green splatter. When he spotted a pile of green splat similar to the stuff on his axe, he wondered if he had killed the wolves. No. He wasn’t a monster. Was he?

  “Excuse me?”

  He looked up at the sound of a raspy girl’s voice. She clutched an axe to her chest. She was covered with the same green gunk. The girl looked familiar, with her long black hair, alabaster skin, and blue eyes. He suddenly remembered her face from the scrolls.

  “You are the goddess!” He knelt, bowing before her. Had he died and gone to Valhol?

  “No, I’m not.” She scratched her head, looking lost in thought. “I’m Annie, or maybe Takaani. One of those two names. I don’t remember which.”

  He straightened as a strange mist blew past her, blurring her face for a moment. He swatted the mist, which tickled his nose. “What are we doing here?”

  “I don’t remember.” She frowned. “But something bad happened.”

  Geri stepped back, nearly tripping over a severed wolf head. “Something very bad.”

  “I think we should leave.”

  When she held out her hand to him, he shrank back. What if she was the demon who’d slaughtered these wolves? But no. Something in the recesses of his mind told him this girl was his friend, that whoever the butcher was, he’d already been killed.

  He stepped over a bloody leg and a long rope of entrails. “We need to search the bodies. I think we were looking for someone.”

  “We can’t.” She reached for him again. “It’s dangerous here.”