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

by Tara West

  A child’s cry cut through the thick fog in his head.

  Her eyes bulged. “Did you hear that?”

  He nodded. “What is it?”

  “It sounds like a baby.” She surged ahead of him, jumping over puddles of blood, heading toward a dark, narrow cavern.

  He lunged and jerked her back. “We shouldn’t go in there.”

  A foreboding feeling told him a demon lurked inside, eager to slaughter them, as it had done to the wolves.

  The child’s wails grew louder.

  She pulled free and ran into the cave.

  He followed her and stumbled over slick rocks, nearly falling face first onto the gleaming axe he held. What was happening? Why were they running? He tripped again, dropping the axe and slamming into the girl.

  She howled. “Watch what the hell you’re doing.”

  He fell to his knees, scrambling for his weapon. That’s when he saw three pairs of wide eyes staring at him from under a ledge. Before he could get to his axe, a child grabbed it and dragged it back into the shelter, crouching down in front of two younger boys, one barely a toddler.

  “Hello, sweetheart. Are you okay?” The girl knelt beside him, flashing a kind smile and holding out her hand to the kids.

  Who was this girl? He felt he should know her.

  The oldest boy tried to lift the axe but ended up dropping it on his foot. He cried out as the weapon clanked to the ground. Geri took that opportunity to snatch it up.

  The boy gasped, pushing his brothers against the wall.

  “Are you going to eat us?” he cried.

  The girl shook her head. “We don’t eat children.”

  The boys wore ragged clothes, and had mops of black hair, and grimy hands and faces. “What are you doing under there?” What was he doing here, for that matter?

  “They ate our family,” the oldest boy blurted, tears spilling down his dirty cheeks.

  “Who?”

  The boy blinked at him. “Why are you acting so stupid?”

  Geri growled, thinking he needed a reprimand, but the child was right. He was acting stupid. There was a weightless feeling in his head, and his thoughts were jumbled.

  “We need to leave this place,” the girl beside him said. “Will you come with us?”

  The boy dragged the back of a hand across his nose, smearing snot and dirt all over his face. “Where will we go?”

  The girl looked at Geri, who had no response. He didn’t know where to go. He didn’t even know where he was.

  She shrugged.

  “Will you take us to our chieftain?” the child asked.

  “Da.” Geri eagerly nodded. “That sounds like a good idea.” Though he didn’t remember who their chieftain was, instinct told him they’d be safe if they found him.

  The child looked from Geri to the girl. “Do you know your way out?”

  He shook his head.

  “We do.” The child stepped forward, pulling the smaller children with him. “Follow us.”

  Geri felt as dumb and useless as a cow, mindlessly being herded toward the slaughterhouse.

  When they emerged from the cavern, the children let out pitiful wails.

  Geri blinked at the carnage. Had these wolves been the children’s parents?

  The girl scooped up the smallest child in her arms, kissing his filthy cheek. “We should burn the bodies,” she said with a sob, rocking the crying toddler.

  “No.” Geri grimaced. “This place is evil.” Though his reason had fled, dark memories of snarling werewolves with venom dripping from their fangs slipped in and out of his mind, like glimpses of sunlight shining through patchy clouds.

  For some reason, the oldest child appeared to have all of his senses.

  “Show us the way out,” Geri said.

  The child sniffled once, then screwed his face up tight and directed them to a worn path that wound down the steep side of a hill. Geri led the way, gripping his axe tightly and sending up a prayer to his ancient gods that they would find a way to escape the cursed prison that had trapped his body and mind.

  “WHAT IS IT, JOVAN?”

  Boris’s brother’s pale brow was furrowed as he gazed into the forest, looking like he’d lost something inside the stagnant foliage. No leaves rustled in the wind. No animals moved. They could’ve been looking at a painting, the night was so eerily still.

  “I don’t hear Geri anymore.” Jovan’s wide nostrils flared, his long fangs digging into his lower lip as his frown deepened. “I’ve been reaching out to him and nothing.”

  “I haven’t heard him in a long while. The foul stench is getting thicker. It’s blocking everything.” He prayed to the Ancients Geri was safe, hating himself for his infirmity. He wouldn’t be able to help Geri if he needed him. He wiped sweat off his brow, trying not to become alarmed as his internal temperature rose. Now he knew how a chicken felt, slowly roasting over a fire. Was this Katarina’s evil plan? Kill everyone with demon sickness so she wouldn’t be alone?

  “Is it true only a witch can close the portal?” Jovan asked.

  Boris ignored the hammer banging at the back of his skull. “That’s what the goddess told our daughter.” An iridescent fog hung above them like a blanket tossed over the trees.

  “Unless we can convince Katarina to go through the portal.”

  Bitter laughter rose in Boris’s throat. “She never listened to us in life. Do you think she’ll listen in death?”

  “Why is she doing this?” Jovan’s luminous eyes shone with pain.

  Though he’d always tried to hide his emotions behind a stony veneer, he knew his brother’s heart ached for the mate they’d lost. He’d been the one to discover her body, murdered by a corrupt federal agent, and he’d always blamed himself for not saving her in time. Now the Amaroki tribe was paying for it.

  “Because she’s a vindictive bitch.” Katarina had been killed because she deliberately put herself in danger for attention. That had always been her way. Sadly, her selfishness and cruelty were magnified in death.

  “She could be listening,” Jovan hissed.

  Marius trotted up to them on all fours, a whimpering white wolf with tail tucked between his legs. Brother, do not bring any more of her ire on our heads.

  Turning his gaze to the sky, Boris pounded his chest. “I don’t care!” he hollered. “Do you hear me, Katarina, you unfaithful, evil catea? You can kill us all. It won’t change what you are. The only thing you’re accomplishing is making us hate you more.”

  His baritone bounced off the trees like a boomerang. It was as if no sound could penetrate the thick fog in front of them. If Katarina’s ghost was near, she didn’t answer. The deafening silence was almost as tormenting as her temper.

  He was sweating like a pig. He wiped his face with a trembling hand, innards churning. He suspected his sickness, and not his ire, had brought on the sudden wave of dizziness.

  The heat that raced across his back was more than he could bear. Stripping off his shirt, he threw it to the ground, his eyes filling with frustrated tears.

  Boris, your arms, Marius thought.

  “I know.” He leaned against a tree, startled by the cool veneer of the rough bark. “I’m not down yet.” He blinked when sweat dripped into his eyes.

  “You should go inside,” Jovan said.

  “Did you hear me? I said I’m not down yet.” He glared at them, then his legs abruptly gave way, and he crumpled to the ground like a puppet with cut strings.

  His brothers ran to him, calling his name, but he was so disoriented, their faces blurred, then spun. He was so dizzy, he felt sick.

  The pounding of feet shook the ground, and Drasko appeared, hovering over him in guardian form.

  Boris clutched Drasko’s furry arm. “Promise you will guard our women.”

  His massive brow drew down. “With my life.”

  Sighing, Boris finally gave in to the sickness that consumed him.

  THE FARTHER DOWN THE hill they went, the clearer Geri’s
mind became. By the time they reached the truck, and he saw the piles of ash and green goo, he remembered why he was here. He’d come in search of the Cloudwalkers and found them slaughtered by werewolves, leaving behind three orphaned children. His heart had never been heavier. So much death and destruction, all because his selfish dead mate refused to pass into the afterworld.

  With a feeling of detached dread, he watched Annie loaded the children into the truck. He wondered why they hadn’t been affected by the confusing mists, then recalled a tribal elder once telling him the veil shrouding Romania’s haunted forest had a disorienting effect on older shifters, and the younger the shifter, the less likely they were to be affected. Their innocence protected them from evil. That would also explain why the elder Eaglecallers had died while hunting near the portal, but the younger Strongpaw pack had emerged alive.

  A cool wind tickled his nape. Geriiii, a familiar sibilant hiss whispered in his ear.

  A line of mist rose from the forest floor like smoke from a forgotten fire, tendrils lazily swirling until the outline of a woman took shape. In the familiar sinful curves was the image of his dead wife, a blonde beauty with pale eyes and a sultry smile. The curvă who’d bewitched him and his brothers over twenty years ago, stealing their hearts and then their sanity when she betrayed them.

  “Geriii.” She held a hand out to him. “Come to me, my love.”

  “I am not your love anymore, Katarina.”

  She produced a familiar pout, the one she’d used so many times to get her way.

  “Go into the afterworld, Katarina. Close the portal before you destroy any more lives.”

  Tendrils of smoke wafted from her crooked finger as she beckoned him to her. “I will if you come with me.”

  “No, Geri! Don’t go.”

  He paid no heed to the plea in Annie’s voice. The witch was dead, and there was no other way to close the portal. If Katarina refused to go through, the Alaskan tribe would perish.

  He stiffened when the smoke from Katarina’s fingers reached him, tickling his nose with the familiar scent of her perfume.

  “Take the children to the lodge,” he said over his shoulder, attention fixed on the wicked spirit.

  “No,” Annie cried, latching onto his elbow. “Come with us.”

  “Tell my brothers and my children I love them.” He swallowed the rock of emotion lodged in his throat. “And tell Eilea I’m sorry.” He was sorry for so many things, but especially about how he’d wrongly judged her and made her cry. He was specifically sorry he’d never get the chance to love her.

  Shaking her off, he ignored her cries and threw his axe into the dirt. He put his hand in Katarina’s and followed her into the forest.

  “Geri!” Annie screamed. She trailed after him, slicing through the mist with her blade.

  Katarina hissed, fangs extending as she transformed into a smoky serpent. He watched in horror as she sucked in a breath, her sides expanding.

  “Run, Annie!” he hollered right before Katarina unleashed a stream of blue fire.

  Annie howled, shifting into a wolf and yelping as she ran away, blue flame licking her hind legs.

  “Stop,” he cried. “Enough wolves have died on your account.”

  “Wasss she your lover?” she hissed, her serpent tongue darting back and forth.

  He vehemently shook his head. “She is destined for another pack.”

  The serpent reformed as his dead mate, traces of the snake still visible in her cold eyes. “Come with me.” She crooked her finger again, black smoky tendrils flowing from her hand.

  He wanted to flee. If he went with her, he’d never break free of her. But he could not let his family perish. The smoke wrapped around his wrist like a noose, swirling around him in a cocoon that smelled of her. An unnatural chill wracked him, so paralyzing he fell to his knees. Frigid pain shot through his veins. He prayed to the Ancients his death would be fast, and he wouldn’t be bound to Katarina for an eternity, but it was a price he was willing to pay to save those he loved.

  Chapter Fifteen

  “EILEA,” JOVAN BOOMED from the doorway, “you have another patient.”

  She looked up and her heart seized. Jovan thudded down the stairs as a giant, white beast, Boris in his arms, and a howling white wolf following them.

  No, no, no!

  Her legs felt encrusted with concrete, her body numb from shock and pain as she trudged toward them. The cries and moans of the sick, the beeping of machines—it all faded into white noise as her attention centered on Boris, who looked like a child pressed against Jovan’s broad chest. Jovan laid him down on a cot, wrapping him in a blanket with the tenderness of a father swaddling a newborn babe.

  Amara reached her fathers first, holding a bucket for Boris, rubbing his back while he leaned over and vomited. Marius curled up beside Boris’s bead, whining softly and resting his chin on his paws.

  Eilea watched helplessly as Amara took care of him. Without thinking, she scratched Marius’s ears. He nuzzled her hand, his nose surprisingly dry. She looked into his glossy eyes. “Marius, are you getting sick, too?”

  He answered with a whimper. “Shift,” she pleaded, “so I can examine you.”

  He shifted, still curled in a ball. She felt his forehead, alarmed at the heat radiating off him. He closed his eyes, moaning when she brushed a lock of bushy hair out of his eyes.

  Not fazed by Jovan’s intimidating size or the teeth that hung over his lower lip like two, sharp tusks, she asked, “Can you please put Marius in a bed?” She pointed at the empty cot next to Boris.

  She covered his nude body with a sheet, then took his temperature: 104°.

  Marius looked up at her through heavy-lidded eyes. “I’m sorry to be a burden to you, lubirea mea. I’m supposed to be taking care of you.”

  She bit her lip, repressing a retort. Funny how his chauvinism didn’t bother her anymore. She could’ve said she was a big girl and would take care of herself, but she sort of liked the idea of this big shifter looking after her. It beat the alternative, which was losing Marius to this virus. She didn’t know how she could go on if her handsome shifters died. Blinking back tears, she forced a smile. “You are no burden.”

  He traced the curve of her face, the longing in his eyes making her heart beat with a dark, deep depression, one she hadn’t felt since her parents died.

  “You have beautiful eyes and a kind soul.” His smile was pained. “You would’ve made us happy. Not having the chance to love you will be my biggest regret.”

  “Marius, please don’t speak like that.” She held his hand, kissing his damp palm. “I can’t bear it.” She clamped her lips shut, unable to say more.

  When his eyes rolled back, and his hand went limp in hers, it took all her willpower not to fall on top of him with a sob, as Amara had done with her mates. Dear lord, she cared about him too much. She cared about all the Lupescus. If given the chance, she could love them, too, but that chance might never come.

  He barely moved when she gave him fever reducer and hooked him up to an IV. She did the same with Boris, brushing his hair out of his eyes while longingly looking at his wan face. She struggled to breathe when she realized they might be dead soon, because she had no idea how to cure them.

  “She blinked at Jovan. “I-I don’t know how to stop it.”

  He cupped her chin. “There is nothing we can do, lubirea mea, but pray to the Ancients.”

  She could’ve gotten lost in the love and kindness in his pale eyes. This giant beast was no monster. For the first time, she fully appreciated why they were called protectors.

  He dropped to one knee, his brow furrowing as he traced a line down her jaw with a thick finger. “What happened to your neck?”

  She slapped a hand over her bandage. “Never mind me. I have patients who need me.” His frown deepened. “Did a shifter do that?”

  She looked away, unable to meet his eyes. “Nakomi.” She regretted naming her attacker the moment the name left her lips.
What good would it do?

  He jumped to his feet with a roar, then went down the steps two at a time.

  Oh, fuck! Why had she told him?

  “Jovan, wait!” She chased him, unable to keep up with his long strides.

  When he reached the bottom step, his eyes rolled back and he toppled to the floor with a violent tremor, narrowly missing a shifter, who skirted him with a shrill scream.

  Eilea fell beside him. “Jovan.” She cupped his cheek, turning his big, furry face toward her.

  His eyes opened. “I can’t defend you. I’m sorry.”

  “I don’t need anyone defending me, and you don’t need to apologize. Can you shift? I don’t think we can carry you.”

  He shifted with a groan, his human body red with welts. He looked up at her with baleful puppy dog eyes. “I’m sorry, lubirea mea. This wasn’t how I imagined our courtship.”

  Raz knelt beside them and draped a blanket over him from the waist down.

  Two men nearby carried Jovan back up the steps to a cot beside his brothers, though they could barely lift him. Sweat dripped down their faces. She made them go lie down after depositing Jovan. Then she hooked him up to fluids while Amara coated his arms with the homemade concoction Raz had made.

  “Eilea, Amara, you need to leave.” Jovan got up on his elbows, his head bobbling like he was drunk. “There’s dark magic in the air. All these sick shifters are turning into werewolves.”

  After releasing a shaky breath, she regained her composure and wagged a finger at him. “Now you listen to me, Jovan. As long as you and your brothers need me, I’m not leaving.”

  “You have to.” He fell back. “Go with Geri when he returns. They’re going to nuke this place.”

  “Who?” she demanded. “When?” But he was unconscious.

  She raced outside in a panic. Spotting the big, brown behemoth, she waved him down. “Drasko!”

  He marched up to her with long strides, giving her a grunt of acknowledgement.

  “Boris told us they are nuking this place.” She hoped to read shock in his expression.

  When he nodded, her heart sank.