Fated Curse

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by Skye Malone


  18

  Wes

  If ever he met this Dal Hegnar bastard, Wes was fairly certain his wolf would rip the man’s throat out.

  And Wes wouldn’t give a damn.

  In the restaurant lit only by the waning embers of the fire at their side, he lay with his arms around Lindy, wishing it could be enough to protect her. Hell, wishing someone had protected her all those years ago when she was just a kid.

  And didn’t he know that feeling?

  Gods above, he wanted to get his hands on the bastards who’d brainwashed her into giving up more than she could ever understand she was sacrificing. Who’d offered up a child to their own selfish worldview, to hell with all it would cost her.

  And now…

  He drew her closer, nestling her deeper into his arms. He couldn’t do what she asked. He simply couldn’t. Everything in him recoiled from the sheer thought, like someone was asking him to rip his own lungs out.

  She planned to die.

  His wolf wanted to die at the thought.

  He didn’t know what she was to him, really. Not beyond the delusion the beast inside him believed, some mad claim that she was his mate, of all things. But that didn’t mean he could ever do this.

  She was so sure there was no hope. How did he argue with that when he didn’t even know what was going on?

  His brow furrowed as he squeezed his eyes shut. He couldn’t argue with her about it, but maybe he could prove there was an alternative. Someone had to have answers for this, whether it was her family or the bastards who forced this on her.

  Resolve settled in his chest, and he drew her closer. Even if he had to hunt down the Order himself, he’d find a way to save Lindy.

  Rest didn’t come easily as the night slowly passed. Every little shift and noise she made when it was her turn to keep watch brought him back to consciousness, and when the next morning finally arrived, exhaustion weighed heavy on him. Lindy didn’t say much before he shifted back into wolf form, and they left the restaurant in silence after making sure the fire was out.

  She didn’t eat, and he didn’t ask, but he kept his eyes peeled. The neighborhood around them was eerily still, without so much as a mouse huddling beneath the frozen bushes. Only a pair of ravens watched from a steepled rooftop, and even they didn’t make a sound. It wasn’t until he and Lindy reached another neighborhood around a small lake that he spotted a squirrel and took off after it, bringing it to her only a moment later.

  Immediately, she shook her head.

  A gruff growl left him, and she looked at him in alarm, but he simply began ripping meat from the small creature and then nudging it toward her.

  Pain twisted her face, and it hurt to see. He wished so badly that he could communicate with her the way he did with his pack. That somehow he could let her know this was okay, and it didn’t make her a monster. The farthest thing from, really, considering how desperately she was fighting to remain human in spite of everything against her.

  He made a short huffing sound, nudging the meat. The pain on her face only deepened, but after a moment she closed her eyes, reached out, and took some of it all the same. Never opening her eyes, she stuck it in her mouth and swallowed, shudders rolling through her. But her hand went back quickly, grabbing more, shoving it in her mouth, and gulping it down like she couldn’t devour it fast enough.

  His heart aching, he sank onto his haunches, watching her. If nothing else, she wouldn’t starve.

  After a few bites, she got up and walked away as fast as she could. He swallowed down the rest of the food in one bite and then followed her, keeping up as she moved along the roads through the city. He tried not to think the worst about how she paused from time to time, looking around as if picking up on things even he couldn’t hear, only to veer off along another road like she was avoiding something.

  But it worried him. Was that ability chewing away at her… her soul, or whatever it was she thought this power was consuming? And what would happen if she stopped using it—if she even could? Stumbling upon the Order wasn’t a better option, though at least with the draugar he could kill them in wolf form.

  Not a hundred of them, though. A thousand. However many might be lurking deeper within the streets of Minneapolis.

  Anguish throbbed through him. If she stopped using whatever this was, and he didn’t hear the draugar or the Order in time, she’d have to use even more power to eliminate them. Gods above, what he wouldn’t give for his pack around them both now, helping protect her from this.

  The day passed, and they spent the night camped in the looted remnants of a store, where he made love to Lindy and then held her as she fell asleep in his arms. When the next morning dawned, they continued on in silence beneath the overcast sky.

  Time passed with only brief stops and small meals of whatever he could catch. Midway through the second day, they found a ransacked sporting goods store with a few mismatched snowshoes that fit Lindy still clinging to a display on the wall, along with replacements for her gloves and coat now stiff with blood. They spent the fourth day backtracking when every other road seemed to empty into dead ends they couldn’t cross, and the fifth day was a serpentine mess of avoiding the hungry packs of wild dogs or the coyotes now roaming the area. At long last, they left the metro area behind entirely, continuing north and knocking snow from road signs in an attempt to find their way.

  He’d always liked GPS, but by the gods, he never thought he’d miss it this much. Locating a specific house in all of Minnesota was entirely different than his own sense of general direction.

  As they walked down a stretch that once had been a state road, he scanned the trees and abandoned cars. From what he could tell of the overcast sky, they were only a few hours from nightfall, if not less, and he hadn’t seen a decent place to spend the night in a while. Worse yet, they were heading east again, meaning at any moment they could run into the fissure torn through the earth.

  With her family possibly at the bottom of it.

  Lindy’s feet stopped. “Oh, thank God.”

  She took off through the snow, moving as fast as she could for a turnoff on the opposite side of the road.

  He gave a small yip at her.

  “This way,” she called over her shoulder.

  She hurried down a stretch that may have been a gravel road, given the rocks turning up in the deep snow. There were no tracks or sign that anyone had come this way in a while, but after a small eternity of slogging onward, the path finally came to an end in a little brown ranch house half buried in white.

  Lindy stopped when she saw it, her entire body becoming still, and he got the strangest feeling from her body language that she was checking something, even if she didn’t move at all.

  Worried prickled through him, the feeling familiar after so many days.

  And then she took off again.

  He raced after her. Had something gone wrong? The door was sheltered from the deepest snowdrifts by the porch and the trees around it, leaving it practically bare but still closed. Without a word, she fished for a key inside her pocket and then jammed it in the lock, turning it quickly. Shoving the door open, she strode inside, her snowshoes thumping on the tile floor.

  “Dad?” she called. “Frankie?”

  Dread sank into Wes’s stomach. He couldn’t hear a damn thing. No movement, no voices. Nothing.

  Oh gods…

  Lindy unfastened her snowshoes swiftly and then hurried deeper into the house, calling out as she went. He stayed with her, sniffing for any hint where her family might be. But the smells were old and the silence didn’t change. No one was in the bedrooms, nor the living room or the garage. But the car was still there.

  Shit, this couldn’t be good.

  He followed her into the kitchen, torn about taking the time to shift back. In human form, he could talk to her. But if a draug was nearby, he could only kill it as a wolf.

  The silence was killing him.

  Air escaped Lindy at the sight of a cell
phone lying on the kitchen island, and when she spoke, her voice was thin. “Dad’s.” She crossed to the phone, clicking it on and then cursing to discover the battery was dead.

  Short breaths left her and she turned away, clutching the cell as she leaned on the kitchen island. He walked closer, rubbing up against her, and her hand dropped to him, stroking his fur distantly.

  A shiver went through him. He loved that sensation. He only hoped it was helping her somehow.

  “Frankie’s cello is gone,” Lindy said, her voice tight but matter of fact. “But his phone is here too. Mom thought music was a waste of time, so if she’d found them already, she wouldn’t take the—”

  He glanced up as she cut off.

  Pushing away from the kitchen island, she strode toward the refrigerator, her body language tense. But he couldn’t understand what she was seeing. There was just a collection of random magnets in a row. Some pictures. A grocery list for bread, milk, and cheese.

  But Lindy turned to him with a relieved smile. “I know where they are. Dad, he…” She swiped a stained glove over her face as if trying to focus. “He made up codes in case Mom…” She shook her head. “Just in case. Milk is north, cheese is east, bread is south. But eggs are missing, so that means they headed west. The magnets in a row are miles.” Grinning, she turned back to him. “They’re okay. Come on.”

  Racing back to the front door, she retrieved her snowshoes and strapped them on with speed born of days of practice. Without another word, she tromped through the house and out the back door.

  Hope pounding through him, he followed her.

  Hurrying across the yard, Lindy headed into the forest behind the house. When she reached the tree line, her eyes darted around, and then her grin widened. Moving fast, she took off at an angle through the forest as if following some kind of trail, though he’d be damned if he could see it. The tree cover was thick, and the undergrowth was too, a tangle of frozen woods that seemed to go nowhere.

  And that didn’t change while the minutes ticked on.

  Wes glanced around, worried. The sky was getting darker, and beneath the trees, the shadows were thick. Sure, Lindy could detect the draugar, but that left all kinds of predators to contend with—not the least of which were humans.

  He paced after her through the deepening shadows, his wolf sight helping him pick out the shapes of their surroundings more than any light now. Maybe he should shift back, nudity and cold be damned, to tell her they needed to find some place safe for the night. They’d locate her family, but this wasn’t—

  The distant sound of a cello carried on the breeze, so faint his ears could barely catch it.

  Lindy stopped.

  Wes glanced at her, alarmed. Human ears shouldn’t be able to pick up on that faint of a noise, and yet from her body language, he knew she could hear it.

  Trepidation moved through him. Craving raw meat. Possessing strong senses. Those were ulfhednar traits, except all in the wrong combination. Wes’s human body didn’t need to eat those things. He didn’t throw up when he consumed a regular meal.

  She started through the trees, and he paced after her quickly. What the hell had the Order tried to make her into?

  The music strengthened in the forest as they followed the sound, the melody beautiful and haunting, sad and uplifting in turns. The notes seemed to twist among the trees, like the woods itself was singing, drawing the two of them onward through the darkening shadows and deepening night.

  If that was Frankie, then gods above, the kid was incredible.

  The trees parted at long last, revealing a sprawling, one-story log cabin that blended naturally with the trees around it. A green roof was peaked sharply above a covered porch that sheltered a dark-brown door and windows with red shutters. Light glowed from beyond the curtained windows, beaming gold out into the snowy night. Amid it all, the sound of the cello never faltered, mesmerizing with its beauty.

  Lindy slowed, her body language suddenly nervous. For the thousandth time, he wished he’d shifted, if only to provide some kind of comfort. But he nudged her side all the same, and she nodded distantly, her eyes still on the house. Drawing a steadying breath, she walked toward the door.

  A faint sound came behind them, nearly lost beneath the cello music.

  Wes whirled. A large man stood there, bundled in a dark-green coat with heavy winter pants to match. He wore a deer hunter cap on his head, the flaps tucked down over his ears, and held a bundle of chopped firewood in his arms.

  He was also seven feet tall if he was an inch and built like a solid block of muscle.

  Wes risked a fast glance at Lindy. Did she know this guy? Was this her dad?

  The alarm on her face was enough of an answer.

  His lips curled back in a snarl.

  The guy’s eyebrow twitched up, not a shred of fear in his expression. “Well, you’re a long way from home.”

  Wes moved ahead of Lindy, blocking her from the man. Something was off about this guy, though the gods help him if he knew what. But that didn’t matter either, because Lindy couldn’t use seidr. Not with what it would cost her.

  A low growl filtered out from him, daring the man to try coming closer.

  “Where’s my family?” Lindy demanded.

  The man cocked his head at her. “What’s your name?”

  “Answer the question.”

  Wes growled louder, seconding the command.

  The guy chuckled.

  At their back, the door opened. Immediately, Wes backed up, trying to keep the guy and the opening door both in view.

  A middle-aged man stood there. Dressed in jeans with a sweater and flannel shirt layered beneath, the man was stock-still as if frozen in shock.

  Alarm threaded through Wes. He was also missing his left hand.

  The man took a step forward. “Lindy?”

  Turning, she gasped. “Dad!” She hurried toward him.

  Wes stayed put, eyeing the other guy who simply grinned wider.

  “Looks like your girl made an interesting friend on the way here,” the big man commented.

  Her father didn’t react to the comment. For a moment, he held Lindy close and then stepped back, looking her over swiftly. “Come inside, please. Thank you for keeping an eye out, Henry.”

  The big guy nodded.

  Her father motioned quickly, stepping back to give them room. Lindy headed in immediately while Wes hesitated, staying between her and the large man and fighting the urge to growl again.

  Still grinning, Henry motioned as if to say “after you.”

  Wes backed toward the door and slipped inside. The entryway emptied into a spacious room with hallways stretching off on either side and an open door to what appeared to be a den on the far end. The smell of cooking meat and warm spices filled the air, reminding his stomach of just how long it had been since he’d eaten anything but small game and cold meals from a can. The cello music continued, wafting down the hallway to the right, though when Henry shut the door behind them, Lindy’s father called out over the sound of it.

  “Frankie? Could you come out here a minute, please?”

  The music stopped. A boy came running from the hallway, and at a glance, Wes could instantly see the relation. He had Lindy’s same dark eyes, same chin and nose.

  “Lindy?” The boy rushed to her, and Wes heard Lindy take a sharp breath like she was bracing herself before the kid threw his arms around her.

  Tension seeped from Lindy’s shoulders as she hugged him back.

  But then the boy caught sight of Wes, and he froze, his eyes going wide with fear.

  “It’s okay, Frankie,” she said.

  “But that’s a—”

  “I said it’s okay.” Lindy’s voice took on a hard edge.

  Henry chuckled at them. “Your friend here have any clothes?”

  Wes looked up in alarm while Lindy stared at the man.

  The guy smiled. “Come on, I can tell an ulfhednar when I see one too.”

  L
indy looked between her father and Henry. “Dad, who is this?”

  Her father shifted his weight apprehensively, and Wes caught the way the man eyed him, his body turning ever so slightly toward Henry as if intending to ask the big man for assistance somehow.

  Which made no sense.

  “Honey, how about you ask your friend to do whatever he needs to do, and we’ll talk more after that?” her father offered carefully.

  What the hell was this?

  Lindy didn’t say anything more, though, and in wolf form, Wes was stuck in silence. With a small jerk of his head toward her, he waited, watching the others carefully while she lowered the bag from her shoulders and drew out his clothes.

  “Bathroom down the hall, third door on the left,” Henry said, nodding over his shoulder.

  Wes didn’t budge.

  “It’s okay,” Lindy said softly.

  Only then did he take the clothes in his mouth and go.

  19

  Lindy

  Lindy watched Wes pad away, wishing irrationally that she could have gone with him. “Are you guys okay?” she asked, forcing herself to refocus on her dad and Frankie. “No… problems?”

  Andrew nodded. “Yeah, honey.” He gripped Frankie’s shoulder with a smile. “No problems at all.”

  Relief pushed a breath from her chest, and her legs felt shaky. After so long worrying that she’d reach her family only to find something terrible had happened to her brother or dad, some part of her just wanted to collapse.

  But there was a stranger here, and she couldn’t risk fully letting down her guard.

  She glanced at the man warily. Henry was huge. World Wrestling Federation huge, and this whole time, he’d never stopped grinning like this was all some great joke, only no one else knew the punchline.

  “So…” Andrew cast a quick look to the hall. “That isn’t Hayden.”

  Lindy hesitated, not sure how to begin to explain. Her family hid from the ulfhednar as much as the Order, and for her to show up with one…

 

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