Moon Cursed (Wolf Hollow Shifters Book 4)

by Nikki Jefford

  “Your mate is bossy,” Elsie said with a grin. “I like him,” she added.

  Chuckling, Kallie handed Elsie a bowl of stew. “I’m quite fond of him myself.”

  Elsie ground chunks of stew between her teeth and swallowed it down. This batch was extra chewy, reminding her how much she loved the taste and texture of wild game—food that wasn’t magicked out of anything else. The wizards at Balmar Heights didn’t seem to notice, but she did. She’d been too polite to ever mention anything.

  “What’s going on with the pairings?” Elsie asked between chewing.

  “Shifters were partnered after the battle,” Kallie said.

  “Who is Zackary with?”

  Before Elsie left, the council had paired him with a male from the den while he was on probation. But with the den mates only just returned, he must have been paired up with someone else.

  Kallie set her bowl in her lap and pursed her lips, eyeing the treetops in thought. “Hmm. Oh, right. He was paired with Chase. Neither of them looked happy about the arrangement.” She grinned with amusement then lifted her bowl to her lips, slurping a thick meaty portion into her mouth.

  “Which territory do they have? Who is next to them? What about on the other side?” Elsie fired off questions.

  Kallie answered them all patiently before clearing her throat and changing the topic to a different shifter. “Wolfrik is working on the council to rescind the ban the elders put on Aden to take a mate.”

  Elsie sat up. It felt as though her heart rose in her chest, taking her with it.

  “Can you ask Wolfrik to do the same for Zackary?”

  In the following silence Elsie turned on the stump to get a closer look at her friend. Kallie’s lips were pressed together in a flat line. Seeing Elsie’s scrutiny, she sighed. “I wish you didn’t like him.”

  Elsie’s hope fizzled as quickly as it had risen. Kallie hadn’t witnessed Zackary’s dedication to the pack when he insisted on joining the search party to find Jordan and David. Elsie still remembered the rabbit he’d hunted and left for her that first morning of the journey. She knew he’d been the one to leave it for her after listening to her talk about her preference for wild game over fish. She’d smelled him on it after shifting to devour his gift. It was the sweetest thing a male had ever done for her.

  Elsie’s brows drew together. “You can’t keep judging him for past deeds. He’s been nothing but considerate and helpful since I arrived. That is the only Zackary that I know.”

  Kallie twisted her lips to the side and gave a begrudging nod. “I’ll talk to Wolfrik. Can I tell him about your situation?”

  “As long as he can keep it secret.”

  “Don’t worry. He’s not in the habit of information sharing so much as gathering.”

  They went back to eating their stew.

  Wolfrik’s swift return made Elsie suspect he’d cut in line. He sat on the ground beside Kallie alternating between a glower when he looked into the crowd and a contented smile whenever he glanced at his mate.

  Taking a closer look at him, Elsie noticed a new scar above his right thigh—bright red and circular.

  Elsie gasped. “What happened?”

  When Wolfrik squinted at her, she pointed at the welt on his side.

  “Oh, that.” Wolfrik shrugged. “Got shot during the fight with the humans. I’ve got another one in my back thigh.”

  Kallie clutched a hand against her heart, her lips frowning at the memory.

  “Did someone get the bullets out?” Elsie asked.

  “They’re out. I’m fine.” Wolfrik tilted his bowl back, chowing down on his stew.

  Elsie frowned and resumed eating hers slowly. Yet again, she wished she had been present for the battle. Once she was mated, Tabor couldn’t send her away at the first hint of danger. She’d finally become a full-fledged member of the pack.

  Upon finishing her dinner, Elsie bid her friends goodbye. She had arrangements to make before everyone headed off to sleep.

  Balmy early mornings were Zackary’s favorite time to labor. The end-of-summer heat could be some of the most brutal, and he’d been assigned the northwestern field where trees and shade were sparse. Thick rows of blackberry bushes teemed with ripened fruit.

  Fingers stained dark purplish-blue, Zackary attempted to pluck berries from their thorny bushes delicately. With his thick hands, berry picking didn’t come easily. He held a basket in one hand while pulling berries with the other. Some of the den mates had constructed little wood crates that could be filled with berries and stacked inside the basket so they didn’t all smoosh together.

  At the opposite end of the row, Chase cursed then sucked on his finger. So far, the shifter with the slimmer fingers was the one always poking himself on thorns. Chase kept his basket on the ground beside his feet, which seemed like a whole lot of unnecessary bending, but Zackary figured the male could complete the task however he chose. They’d only been patrol partners for a few days and didn’t spend much of it conversing.

  Their territory was one of the closest sections to the glade, which served as part of their border to the east. It meant an easy walk at the beginning and end of duty. Their northern border was the Sakhir River. It glinted in the background, casting a sense of serenity over the field.

  When Zackary had first started his new duties, he’d been bored out of his skull. But he’d quickly adapted, going into a focused trancelike state as he worked methodically, removing ripe blackberries from the bushes.

  Chase hissed, yanking his arm back. “Damn fucking thorns!”

  Maybe if Chase hadn’t drunk so much of Jager’s brew the night before, he wouldn’t be poking his fingers like a clodhopper. Zackary kept his comment to himself and his attention on his task. As with his friends, it was clear that he’d be the one pulling most of the weight in this partnership. He didn’t mind. Working hard helped him feel deserving of a place in the pack. It still wasn’t enough, but it helped. A little.

  “Greetings, friend!” Hudson called out, strolling in from his neighboring territory.

  He popped over briefly a couple times a day to say hello to his friend—singular—the greeting never included Zackary.

  He didn’t bother looking over, not until Chase asked, “No fair. You get a third partner, Huds. Hey, Elsie. Where’s Rosalie?”

  “Good morning,” Elsie said sweetly.

  The sharp tip of a thorn stabbed into Zackary’s thumb, instantly stinging his rough skin. Blood beaded to the surface. He rubbed his fingers together, smearing the blood rather than sucking his damn thumb like Chase.

  “Not exactly,” Hudson said as he and Elsie walked over. Chase jogged up to them, leaving his basket on the ground. Zackary remained standing in a sideways position, unsure whether to continue berry picking or act as though he was part of the conversation.

  Elsie threaded her fingers in front of her. The white dress clung to her petite frame. Hudson looked at her before explaining, “Elsie and Aden were paired together last night and assigned the eastern hunting grounds. Elsie traded partners with Rosalie and now she’s trading with you so that I can patrol with my buddy.” Hudson smiled big.

  “I’d rather pick berries than hunt animals,” Elsie tossed in.

  Pick berries with him? Become his partner?

  Everything inside Zackary stilled. He felt like a goddamned rabbit freezing up at the hint of danger, hoping it would pass him by if he didn’t make any sudden movements.

  Chase laughed. “Right, sounds great, but you can’t just go around trading partners.”

  “Why not?” Elsie asked.

  “Jager would have a shit fit for one thing.”

  “So, don’t tell him.”

  Chase’s next chuckle came out devious. “I didn’t realize you were such a little rebel.”

  “Never judge a shifter by her size. Do we have ourselves a trade?”

  “Done!” Chase said happily.

  Zackary’s jaw tightened. He still hadn’t moved, hadn’t
spoken. No one asked for his consent. That was how it had always been. “Just a dumb mutt.” That was what his father had always called him.

  “Some shifters are meant to lead, others to obey. You’re soft in the head, just like your mother,” Vallen had reminded Zackary often. “No female will ever want you. Keep your mouth shut, do as you’re told, and don’t embarrass me or I’ll run you out of Wolf Hollow myself.”

  The day a rabid wolf bit Vallen had been the best day of Zackary’s life. He thought he’d have to endure his father’s insults and fists for the remainder of his natural life. Vallen had made sure to hit him in private, but there were shifters who had suspected. None of them had spoken up—not once. No one cared about a dumb mutt. That rabid wolf had done him a huge favor. Too bad it hadn’t killed Vallen in the process.

  Chase took off with Hudson, not bothering to tell Zackary goodbye. Unholy rage rose up his bare chest straight into his head. His mouth opened, the word “no” rising up his throat. It didn’t make it past his lips. Obedience was too ingrained in him. He didn’t need his father around to flatten him under his callused heel. He would do what he was told, what others decided, because that was the only way he knew how to exist.

  Zackary returned to picking berries, being mindful of the thorns. Just because he’d been cornered into this situation didn’t mean he’d tear his fingers up in frustration.

  “You’re upset,” Elsie said, sounding confused.

  Zackary picked another berry before turning to face Elsie, his basket at his side. He started out his mornings in khaki shorts before taking them off in the midday heat. Now he wouldn’t be able to work nude in the sweltering sun.

  Elsie’s brows pinched together. She looked hurt. Zackary wished he could find the right words to tell her she should stay away from him. As much as he liked her, he’d accepted the council’s punishment, banning him from ever claiming a mate. He didn’t deserve a female, and if he couldn’t have a mate, he didn’t want anything else. Secretly, Zackary was the kind of romantic fool who only wanted to lay with the female he meant to claim.

  “You shouldn’t mess around with Jager’s pairings,” he told Elsie now.

  The hollow had a system. Besides, he didn’t want Elsie to get in trouble. She was their newest pack member and part witch. The pack was already wary of half-breeds. Though he did admire her audacity. Unlike Zackary, Elsie wasn’t one to keep her head down. Isn’t that why he’d noticed her in the first place? She hadn’t scorned him either.

  Only because she didn’t know any better. Not yet.

  Elsie frowned. “I would rather pick berries, but if you don’t want me for your partner, then I will trade back.”

  When she started away, the “no” that had been lodged inside the back of Zackary’s throat made it out. Elsie stopped and turned, facing him with a question in her eyes.

  “Rosalie will make a fuss if you trade back now. Her complaints could easily get back to Jager, and I don’t want him giving you any grief.”

  “So, you’re just looking out for me?” There was a hopeful lift to Elsie’s voice, but her lips still formed a flat line.

  If he truly had her best interests at heart, he’d send her straight back to Aden.

  Grrr, the thought of her spending her days running around with the werewolf burned and darkened the inside of his chest like charred deer meat.

  Rather than answer her question, Zackary handed Elsie his basket.

  “You said you wanted to pick berries. Watch out for the thorns.”

  Zackary walked over to Chase’s basket, picking it up with a grunt. Chase had only filled one small wood crate with berries. Slacker. Setting to work, he waited for Elsie to start up her usual banter. Instead, she worked in silence, and the longer it went on, the more uneasy Zackary felt. He snuck sideways glances at her—ones she did not return. Her concentration had turned to the task. Unlike Chase, she removed berries rapidly, without cussing.

  Zackary inched his way toward her, taking his time so as not to be obvious. He cleared his throat softly, trying to keep her from hearing the nervous vibration of his throat.

  “You had a safe journey back to Wolf Hollow?” He kept his eyes on the berries and the tips of his fingers removing them from the bush.

  “We ran straight home,” Elsie answered.

  Home. She’d called the hollow home. It shouldn’t matter to Zackary, but it did. His stupid heart hammered with happiness when he thought of Elsie choosing the pack over her coven. Even if he couldn’t be with her, at least she’d be a packmate. That was better than nothing, right? Sure, what about when she wised up, turned her sights elsewhere, and claimed a mate?

  Dark liquid burst between Zackary’s fingers as he squished an unfortunate berry into purple mash.

  “What’s it like at Balmar Heights? I’ve never known anything besides Wolf Hollow.”

  “What’s it like?” Elsie repeated. “How much time have you got?”

  He could hear the smile in her tone. It made Zackary feel lightheaded.

  “All day,” he said.

  And like that, Elsie lit up. She spent the rest of the morning telling him about life on the mountain among the magically gifted. Zackary asked questions, but mostly he listened raptly to a way of life so different from everything he’d ever known. Despite the differences, it turned out wizards and witches had the same squabbles and drama that came with group living. When Elsie told him about two witches who didn’t speak to one another for an entire year after one accidently ruined the other’s favorite sweater, he found himself chuckling alongside her. All the while, they picked berries, filling the baskets in no time at all.

  Elsie followed Zackary to a tree, setting her full basket beside his in the shade.

  “That was easy,” she said. “Now what?”

  “Now we keep an eye out. This patrol area isn’t very large. The berries will all get eaten tonight and we’ll pick a fresh batch tomorrow.” He looked at Elsie’s white dress and grimaced. The stains were a dead giveaway. “You might want to find some darker clothes to wear.”

  Elsie looked down as though noticing the stains for the first time. She shrugged.

  “Good thing we’re by a river.” A smile radiated over her face. She headed to the Sakhir, Zackary following behind her slowly, wading in behind her. When Elsie pulled her dress up her legs, he turned around to give her privacy. “Does my nudity make you uncomfortable?” Elsie asked curiously.

  Naked females had always made him wary. He feared his body would react and he would be ridiculed and rejected.

  “I do not wish to . . . offend you.”

  “Offend me?” Elsie asked.

  Zackary’s cheeks burned. There was no way he could explain without sounding like a horny mongrel. He did not want to scare her off with an erection. Females did not have to worry about such things. They didn’t have dicks that stretched and expanded like a third leg for everyone to see. He could hide his feelings, but not his desires. It made him feel exposed in a way that was as frightening as fuck.

  “Is there a lot of nudity at Balmar Heights?” Zackary asked, staring at the blackberry bushes in the distance. The cool water flowing around his ankles felt refreshing. He tried to concentrate on that rather than think of Elsie behind him. Had she removed the dress entirely?

  She laughed at his question. “Not publicly. Definitely not. Shifter life sounds barbaric to them.”

  Had she felt lonely growing up as the only outsider in the community? Elsie seemed like the kind of female who could handle anything, but it still angered Zackary to think of her being treated as different. Mostly, he was infuriated at himself for being such a prick to Tabor. He’d taken his own insecurities out on a half-breed. Real courageous of him. His jaw tightened as self-loathing sliced through him colder than the Sakhir in winter.

  “I’m rinsing my dress off. I’ll tell you when I’m finished.”

  Zackary bent down to submerge his hands in the water. He rubbed his palms together in the curren
t then swished his fingers around, but the stains stubbornly clung to his skin. There was no way Elsie would get them out of her white dress. Zackary cupped water into his palms and lifted them to his lips, scooping up several more handfuls of water to drink.

  “Do you mind taking my dress and laying it in the field to dry? I’ll put on my fur in the meantime.” The damp dress appeared at Zackary’s side when Elsie held it out. Forehead wrinkled, he took it, staring over the white fabric. There wasn’t a single stain or trace of discoloring. When he turned to question Elsie, he found her staring up in wolf form. Her lips formed a mischievous grin and her tail wagged. Sloshing back to shore, Zackary crossed the field going from tree to tree until he found a good branch to hang the dress from. The one he selected had two twigs that slipped under the sleeves. Elsie followed him around, sitting on her hind legs to watch. Finished with the dress, he offered her a grin.

  “Might as well avoid grass stains.”

  Elsie’s tail swished side to side over the ground. Zackary took a seat beneath the shade looking out over the field and the lazy flow of the Sakhir. When Elsie moved to his side and sat, he found his hand in her fur stroking down her back. Together, they surveyed the small territory, listening to the various bird warbles and calls. Zackary’s hand moved higher, his fingers running over Elsie’s head in a gentle caress.

  “You’re good company,” he remarked, lowering his hand to his lap. When Elsie nudged his arm with her nose, he chuckled and resumed petting her. “Okay.”

  Zackary barely registered the time slipping away until Elsie gave a wuff right before Hudson and Chase entered the field. They talked the whole way over until stepping into the shade.

  “Time to switch back,” Hudson said, addressing the wolf at Zackary’s side.

  When she stood up, Zackary did the same.

  “Turn around,” he growled at Hudson and Chase.

  Hudson’s gaze cut up to Zackary. He narrowed his eyes. “What about you?” he challenged.

  Zackary glowered back. “I’m turning around too.”

  Hudson didn’t move until Chase elbowed him. “Huds, be a gentleman . . . for Elsie’s sake.”