Shifters Forever Worlds Mega Box- Volume 3

by Elle Thorne

  After the melee, after the brigands that had set upon Calder’s family were dead, Calder took his sons out to the forest to talk to them, to explain what had happen.

  He’d told them about the village. Their people. How they had once been bear shifters and now were cursed by the witch. How his boys carried the curse, and as far as he could tell, it would be transferred as such, from father to son.

  He also told them about the Valkyrie, a secret he hadn’t even told Brenna about.

  For Calder held a secret. On his many hunting trips, he’d not only brought back meat to sustain his family, he’d visited the village where it all began.

  He’d seen the women. The Valkyrie. He’d noted the way they trained. He’d witnessed their hatred of men.

  And he’d fostered his own hatred. He’d noted the Valkyrie. He’d seen an occasional visit from Freyja. And he would have attacked, if he’d thought for a moment he could be victorious. The thought that he might lose his life and leave his mate to fend for herself and their sons had stayed his hand and his temper.

  It had not, however, quenched his thirst for vengeance. He would carry this desire, and he would pass it on to his sons, that was his intent.

  So, he’d told his sons about the witch and the Valkyrie, their uncle Halvar. He’d told them everything, and when they grew older, he’d taken them to see the Valkyrie village. He’d taken them three years in a row, until the last time, when they’d found the village gone, all signs of where they’d gone carefully hidden.

  Calder and his sons had scouted, studied the ground for any sign of which direction the women had gone. There was no hint, no clue. It was obvious there was a deliberate attempt to keep their tracks hidden.

  Why? Did they know he was watching them? Did they know he targeted them? Spied on them? Was that why they’d moved?

  “Where do you think they went?” Gunnar had asked him.

  “I do not know, son.” But he made it his mission to find out.

  And his sons had made it their missions as well. And their sons’ sons. And so on, and so forth, through the generations, the rivalry of the Valkyrie and the berserkers was born and fostered.

  There would be no peace between them until the berserkers’ bears were returned to them.

  Second Epilogue

  Freyja’s final words

  In a village far from the cave, far from the massacre that had happened so many years ago, Brenna visited a merchant.

  No longer was she recognized, no longer did she fear being discovered by her father or the abusive husband she’d once had.

  Still, she covered her hair, wore a scarf so it would hide part of her face, because, ultimately, she did wonder if she’d be found out. If Calder would be discovered. If the Valkyrie would wreak havoc on her life.

  She ran the fabric the merchant carried between her fingertips, knowing his was not something she’d be able to afford. She’d chosen her life, and she did not regret it. Fabrics from far away were not to be a part of it.

  A wonderful mate and three healthy sons were the path she’d taken.

  She had no qualms regarding the choices she’d made.

  “You have fine sons,” a voice said.

  Brenna knew that voice, but had not heard it in years and years. She turned slowly to face the speaker.

  She stared at the woman. She knew her.

  Freyja.

  That Freyja knew of her family was a frightful thought. This witch was not to be trifled with. Brenna remained calm, no small task. She looked around to be sure they had no witnesses or eavesdroppers. “You know I have more than one?”

  Freyja nodded. “I do. And like their father, they cannot shift.”

  Brenna lowered the fabric, stepped closer to Freyja to keep their conversation even more private. “Because of you.”

  Freyja’s smile was tight. “Because of the action they took against our own people. The atrocities.”

  Brenna acknowledged with a nod. It was not untrue; the clansmen of Calder had not been good to Freyja’s village. “So, you know of my sons, and my mate.”

  Freyja inclined her head. “I do.”

  “And yet you’ve not sought to harm them. Us.”

  “You spared my niece.”

  Brenna cocked her head, studying the almost-unaging witch. “Eerika?”

  Freyja rewarded her with a slight smile. “My youngest sister’s firstborn.”

  “She saved me once, long ago,” Brenna added, and then the thought occurred to her. A thought that made her flesh crawl and her blood run through her body with the burn of ice water. “And now? Will you seek to exact revenge on my sons?”

  Freyja shook her head. “I shall not, but their kind will always do battle with the women of my daughter’s descendants. They’ll be locked in an eternal struggle that can only be solved in one of two ways. The eradication of either breed, which would end all the battling, or if the berserkers learn how to turn their kind back into shifters.”

  “You could put an end to this, Freyja. It is in your power.”

  “It no longer is.”

  “How can that be?”

  “My daughter Helga and Eerika are no longer alive. Killed in battle. Astrid has moved the Valkyrie into hiding.”

  “You are a powerful witch. You can find them if you wish. You can change the course of this.”

  “Oh, but I cannot change the course. I cannot reverse my spell. And I cannot find the Valkyrie. They have located a council of witches whose joint power exceeds my own. Their spell keeps my seekers from finding the Valkyrie. And now that Helga is no longer with them, I have no blood connection to use to see.”

  Brenna exhaled. “And so, it is to be like this? Forever more?”

  Freyja shrugged. “There are ways to change the course, but those are not for me to speak.”

  * * *

  Brenna entered the cabin and dropped the bag of sundries she’d acquired at the traveling merchant’s.

  No Calder. No sons.

  She stepped outside just in time to see them entering the clearing.

  Four fine figures of men. She filled with pride at the sight of them, thankful they were hale and hearty.

  Her gaze centered on Calder, who still made her heart beat faster and her body course with a heat she’d never lost.

  His gaze locked with hers.

  He pointed to Torsten and Halvar. “The boys have done some fine hunting.”

  She smiled at her sons. “I see it was a good trip for you.”

  “And yours?” he asked.

  She’d keep her secret, she decided. “It was a good trip as well. The merchant had much to choose from.”

  He stepped closer, kissing her lips, the amber flame of his bear flickered in the depths of his eyes.

  She savored the taste of his lips, wrapped her arms around his neck.

  “I am happy you are home,” she whispered. “Finally.”

  “Always.”

  Challenge

  Range and his small but lethal pack of dire wolves have been the go-to guys for Mae Forester.

  But Mae didn’t send them this gig. It came out of the blue.

  Range and his team not in a position to turn down a buck, not these days.

  The picture of a violet-eyed beauty in the assignment file further complicates matters.

  * * *

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  Chapter One

  Isolated Region, Alaska.

  Range dropped his gear at the back door.

  “How’s the hunting,” Asa asked.

  “Got one waiting to be dressed.” Deer. Range loved his venison.

  “Dressed? Do you really plan to cook it?”

  Range shrugged. Normally, he and his three brothers would simply shift into their wolves and feed on the carcass. “Davin griped last time that we don’t act civilized often enough.”

  Asa laughed. “So, you’re going to humor him and cook?”

  “Hell, no,”
Range laughed with his brother, “He’s doing the cooking. And he’s dressing the deer.” He put his rifle on the rack in the utility room.

  “Shit, that reminds me, a call came in on the business line.”

  The business line. The line they used for the contract work they picked up.

  “Mae called?” he asked.

  “No,” Asa looked puzzled, “some dude. Name was George something or another. Said he had a job for us.”

  “Hmmm. Wonder who gave him our number?” It wasn’t that Range and his three brothers didn’t freelance for people other than Mae Forester of Bear Canyon Valley, it was just that Mae was the one who usually put them in touch with those that needed them.

  Mae Forester had been a part of Range and his brothers’ lives since they were little tykes. Mae, who’d seen them fed and raised without being killed. Mae who’d kissed their cheeks and bid them farewell when they’d joined the Shifter Special Forces, SSF.

  And finally, Mae who’d advised them not to join a research program that one of the commanders of Shifter Special Forces had offered them.

  They’d joined the program. For a whole year, they’d agreed to be guinea pigs. Poked, prodded, stuck with needles, monitored, and tested.

  They said that Range, Asa, Davin, and Jason would be stronger and perform better.

  They never mentioned there might be complications.

  Fuckers.

  The four brothers had left the program early, finished their time with the SSF, and left all that behind, taking with them only the medals they’d earned for heroic acts and the complications that had come from the testing.

  Complications that every now and then, would rear their ugly heads and mess up their lives.

  Range had taken the money they’d all pooled together and bought property in Alaska, some mighty remote property where they didn’t have to deal with people. Or other shifters, or anyone.

  Occasionally, Mae would reach out and give them a job. Something that kept their bank account from hitting rock bottom. She’d told them with their skills, they could put themselves on the market and make a lot more.

  But money hadn’t been something they needed. Not much.

  Until now.

  One of their former team members in the SSF had called. His daughter had a disease that Range couldn’t even dream of pronouncing. The treatments were ridiculously expensive, and wouldn’t you know it, they weren’t covered by the SSF insurance plans.

  Range had to tell Vince that he couldn’t help him, but he’d ask around. That had been yesterday. Then he’d tried to reach Mae at her hair salon, Forester Cuts, but had to leave a message for her to call him.

  Now it looked like she’d drummed up some business, so maybe they could help Vince out.

  “Got a number for this George guy?”

  “It’s on the pad by the phone.”

  Range kicked his boots off and pulled a lager out of the fridge.

  Jason happened to walk in and see his older brother getting the beer out. “I don’t know why you bother.”

  It wasn’t a secret that shifters didn’t get inebriated from alcoholic beverages.

  “I like the taste,” Range grumbled. “I don’t need a nagging wife.” He delivered a mock punch to Jason’s shoulder.

  Jason pivoted and dropped, then popped one toward Range’s jaw.

  Range drew back. His shifter speed was supernatural, but after all the testing, he was even faster than most shifters.

  Jason laughed. “I miss it.”

  Range knew what he meant. He missed the military life. The missions. The occasional gig these days didn’t do much toward recreating the action they used to have on an almost-daily basis.

  “Me, too.” Range downed half the bottle in one swig. “I’ve got a phone call to make. Hopefully there’s a job for us that will let us help Vince.”

  “Hopefully,” Asa added.

  * * *

  Range put the phone down, a stunned look on his face. When things seemed too good to be true, they usually were. He dialed Mae’s number.

  The other end was answered on the first ring. “Forester Cuts.” Mae’s voice.

  “Mae.”

  “Range!” Mae sounded happy to hear from him.

  As always, her voice made him feel like he was in a different time, a different place.

  “I just got your message. Doc and I were on the mountain, sorry.”

  “No problem. How’s Doc?”

  “He’s great.” Mae’s voice had a smile in it. “What’s going on?”

  “Well, I originally called to see if you might have a job—we could use a little money.” He didn’t want to tell her why. He wasn’t sure if Vince would appreciate it. “But I’m guessing you know that since we already got a call. You sent George our way?”

  There was a pause on the other end of the line, then, “No. I didn’t recommend you to anyone recently. I usually don’t give anyone direct access to you guys.”

  “Odd,” Range muttered.

  “But you do have a reputation for getting things done. I’m guessing word’s gotten around, so it’s not surprising you’re getting calls.”

  Truth was, Range wasn’t all that social, neither were his brothers. If they’d had their druthers, they’d only deal with Mae.

  The job had a nice price tag attached to it. And though he hadn’t said yes, Range had told the man he’d be calling him back within the hour. He still had to discuss the details. He checked his email to see if the information that George had said he’d be sending had come through.

  George. He seemed like a slick-talking character. Something about him rubbed Range the wrong way. Was it the nasally way he spoke or the autocratic tone in his voice? Either way, Range shoved those thoughts aside. His duty was to do the job, collect the cash, and help Vince.

  “I’m sure you’re right,” he told Mae, his voice distracted.

  “Are you okay, Range?”

  He didn’t want to tell her he was having aftereffects today, from the testing. He didn’t want to worry her. She already felt bad enough for the choice he’d made to be a part of the testing, even though he and his brothers were old enough to own their decisions when they’d made that one.

  “I’m good, Mae. Just fine.”

  “Okay,” Mae said, but it was clear from her tone that she doubted him.

  He clicked refresh on the monitor. Yup. There was the email from George Skople.

  “Hey, Mae, I’ll give you a call later, all right?”

  “Sure, Range. Give the guys a hug for me?”

  He laughed. “I’ll tell them you’re sending hugs.” Like he’d be hugging his brothers. He pressed the icon to end the call.

  He opened the email and hit print without looking at the attached documents.

  The first couple lines of the email said the client wanted an ex-girlfriend located. No need to bring her in, simply relay the address.

  Hell, I can handle this one alone.

  That way he could leave his brothers here in case another job came in.

  Then he saw the price tag.

  Finding an ex-girlfriend for $300,000?

  Maybe she’d stolen a painting from the client’s mansion or something.

  He printed several copies, snatched them off the printer and took them to the kitchen where he heard his brothers carousing.

  “Looks like we get to help Vince.” He dropped the papers on the kitchen table. Four printouts, one laid in front of each chair at the table.

  “I’ll take this one alone, no need to trouble all of us.”

  “No, shit? I know Vince will be happy.” Davin picked his copy up.

  The others did the same.

  Jason let out a wolf whistle. “Holy hell.”

  Range frowned and started to thumb through the copy he’d printed for himself.

  He quickly saw the reason for Jason’s whistle.

  A stunning woman, tall, statuesque, a strong jawline, sexy lips, and eyes that looked like they burne
d with a deep violet fire.

  “No wonder you want to take this job alone.” Davin tapped him on the bicep with his fist. “I’ll offer to do this, if you want to stay home.”

  Range ignored him, scanning the rest of the documents. “Why do you think he wants her so badly?”

  Jason laughed. “Have you seen her?”

  “I don’t know,” Range’s wolf was sending out alarms.

  Asa folded his arms over his chest. “I know. I know Vince’s daughter needs the treatments. I know we don’t look a gift horse in the mouth.”

  “Yeah,” Range said, but still.

  But still.

  Chapter Two

  The Heights, Houston, Texas. A week later.

  Eira’s phone rang.

  Again.

  For the millionth time, it seemed.

  She rolled her eyes.

  “Why did you give that guy your number?” Emme asked.

  Eira didn’t. She hadn’t counted on the asshole taking her phone and using it to call himself. Stupid, stupid, stupid.Even more stupid that she hadn’t replaced it yet. But a harmless one-night stand—what did it matter? She shook her head. “What is important now is that I need to not hear from him anymore.” What a pain in the ass. One date, if you could call it a date, and now he had become a stalker. “I’m going to a couple places downtown tonight. On a case. Anyone want to join?”

  “Places?” Hélène asked. “Care to be more specific?”

  “Yes,” Eira smirked, as if Hélène didn’t know. “Couple of clubs.”

  “Oh! I’m in!” Lina beamed.

  Her roommates never turned down a chance to go out.

  “Who are we following?” Emme asked.

  Eira ran a private investigation agency. Most of her cases revolved around cheating husbands and cheating wives. She made a hefty amount of money, courtesy of one of Houston’s top divorce lawyers, who hired her for every case.