by Tara West
“Because many don’t come back, and those who do return changed.”
“Changed?”
Shadows fell across Tatiana’s features, making her look far older than eighteen. “Evil.”
Amara’s hand flew to her throat. “Holy shit!”
“Now you see why I don’t want to move there.” Tatiana frowned.
“Yeah,” Amara breathed, feeling bad not just for her friend, but for her family.
Tatiana crossed her arms with a huff. “All I know is if your brothers expect me to live near demons, the least they can do is give me my own bathroom.”
HAKON PARKED THE RENTAL car and shared wary looks with his brothers before getting out. He breathed in the cool autumn air, scanning his surroundings. The debris from the fire was long gone, and in its place was the frame of a house on a concrete pad. The smell of meat came from an old wooden smokehouse outside the barn.
Rone patted his stomach. “Mm, I’m hungry.”
“We’re not imposing on them,” Hakon said. “We’ll eat at the inn.”
“What are you doing here?” Jovan, Amara’s second alpha father, strode into view, his lips pulled back in a feral snarl.
Though Hakon was shocked by the hostile greeting, he held his ground. “You know what we’re doing here.”
The older man waved a fist. “You should not have come. We told you we’d handle the Devoras.”
Hands clenched, Drasko stepped ahead of Hakon. “And yet you haven’t.”
“They are on the run,” Jovan said through clenched teeth. “They’ll return within one week or they forfeit the rights to their land and home.”
Luc shot Hakon a knowing look. He’s hiding something.
Hakon said, “That’s cutting it close. I need to leave for my rotation in ten days.”
Jovan spit into the dirt. “You should be looking after our daughter.”
Why is he so angry? Rone asked.
Something is very wrong, Luc answered.
Hakon refused to be intimidated. “She’s safe. She’s with our fathers.”
“What if the Devoras don’t return?” Drasko asked.
“Then we claim their property as compensation for the destruction of our homes.” Jovan shook his fist at them once again. “Now go back home.” Without a backward glance, he stomped back to the barn, slamming the double doors behind him.
Hakon gaped at his brothers.
Drasko stared at the barn doors. We need to find out what they’re hiding.
Agreed. Hakon led the way.
Hakon’s vision tunneled on Amara’s fathers in the dim light as they hurled Romanian curse words at them.
As his eyes adjusted, he noticed only the second alpha Jovan and the tracker Geri were there, drinking beer on an old sofa in front of a fire pit. A woman stoically rocked in a chair behind them, avoiding eye contact with Hakon and his brothers. Her lips twisted in a scowl while she knitted what appeared to be a blanket. Hakon assumed this woman was Katarina, the wicked stepmother who’d been unnecessarily cruel to Amara and then tried to run off with the Devoras. A large bed piled with a few threadbare blankets and a few other pieces of furniture appeared to be all they had left after the Devoras burned down their house.
Hakon stomped forward, crossing his arms. “There’s something you’re not telling us.”
Jovan and Geri shared dark looks.
Finally, Jovan dragged a hand down his face with a weary sigh. “Six weeks ago we chased the Devoras into the Hoia Baciu Forest. The villagers have been taking turns watching for activity. They haven’t come out.”
Hakon shared wide-eyed looks with his brothers. This was an alarming change of events. There wasn’t a single shifter child who didn’t have nightmares of the Haunted Forest. Though Hakon had always believed the stories of Hoia Baciu were exaggerated so children would stay close to their parents, he wasn’t reassured by the haggard looks of Amara’s fathers, as if they were living in a waking nightmare. “Why didn’t you tell us this?”
“We didn’t want you going after them,” Geri answered. “It’s too dangerous.”
“Do you think something happened to them in there?” Drasko asked.
Jovan gave them a long look, one so piercing Hakon was compelled to look away. “What do you know of the Haunted Forest?”
Hakon and his brothers shared questioning looks. Finally, Hakon turned back to Jovan. “Our family said it’s a cursed place.”
Jovan solemnly nodded. “It is not a place meant for the living.”
“We’ve heard tales of demons,” Hakon added. Even from a young age, his perception had been that his Romanian grandparents made up most of the stories to get him and his brothers to behave during their visits.
Geri frowned. “Those weren’t tales.”
“When we were banished, we were forced to live in a cabin on the edge of the Baciu.” Jovan’s voice trembled. Weird for a second alpha to appear so shook up.
“And?” Drasko prodded.
Deep lines framed Jovan’s eyes. “We saw horrors that no ordinary man could survive.”
“What horrors?” Luc asked, reminding Hakon very much of the childhood Luc, who’d hung on his grandparents’ every word whenever they told tales of the forest.
Jovan nodded to his brother. “Geri, show them.”
Geri rolled up his sleeves, revealing several long, raised scars that looked like worms imbedded in his skin.
“What happened?” Rone blurted.
Geri shrugged, staring blankly at something beyond Hakon’s shoulder. “Demon burn. I wandered too close to the veil.”
Hakon remembered their grandparents speaking of the veil, a thin layer of mist that surrounded the heart of the haunted forest like a magical dome. Their grandparents had told them not to wander too close to the veil, or they’d be infected with burning blisters—demon burn. He had thought that, too, had been an exaggeration.
“And the Devoras are in there?” Hakon had a hard time believing they would’ve escaped into the Haunted Forest. Had that been their only option, or had they gone there by choice?
“They are,” Jovan said solemnly. “Wolves who have passed through the veil for even a few hours return changed. It will twist your mind.”
“And your soul.” Geri’s stony expression made the hairs on the back of Hakon’s neck stand on end.
“And they have been there six weeks?”
“Da.”
Drasko threw up his hands. “So now what?”
Jovan shrugged, averting his eyes. “We wait and see if they come out, but I doubt they ever will.”
Hakon almost thought he heard pity from the older wolf. How could anyone pity the Devoras after what they’d put Amara through?
Jovan sank into the sofa cushions. “This is why we didn’t want you to come. The scrolls have spoken of wolves who’ve returned from the veil as unholy demons. I would hate for something to happen to my daughter’s mates. You have too much to live for now.”
“And what about you, Jovan?” Katarina interrupted, looking at him with watery eyes and a trembling lower lip. “Don’t you have anything to live for?”
Jovan scowled for a moment and then turned his back on her, mumbling as he stoked the fire. “Not anymore.”
She dropped her knitting and stumbled across the barn, throwing open the door dramatically before rushing outside. Jovan nodded to Geri, who followed her.
Hakon felt pity for Amara’s fathers, who’d not only lost their home but their marriage. Hakon still didn’t understand how she could’ve run off with the Devoras. She made him appreciate Amara all the more. Amara was dedicated to her mates, selfless, and compassionate, qualities Katarina obviously lacked. One more reason Hakon had to stay and see that the Devoras were punished for what they’d done to Amara.
“We’ve come all this way,” Hakon said. “We can at least help watch the forest this week.”
Jovan’s eyes hardened. “I’ve already said we don’t want you here.”
Hak
on braced his legs apart. “Too bad. We’re not leaving.”
Jovan snickered. “We have nowhere for you to stay.”
“We’re staying with our mother’s brothers,” Drasko answered.
“Do as you will then.” Jovan waved them away before turning back to the fire. “But don’t go into that forest.”
“We won’t,” Hakon said. Though he still doubted the exaggerated tales of the forest, something strange was happening.
Chapter Five
No sooner had Hakon pulled their rental car in behind Amara’s fathers’ truck than a pack of four older men jumped into and old station-wagon and tore off down the road. They’d obviously been in a hurry to leave. Hakon hoped he could get rid of Amara’s fathers as easily.
The canopy of trees blotted out most of the moon’s light, but the camp was illuminated with torches, an old lamp, and a small fire surrounded by rusty metal folding chairs and logs. The air was stagnant and musty, pressing down on Hakon’s chest like a lead ball wrapped in a pile of old, moldy socks and forcing him to strain for each shallow breath.
Boris, head alpha, and Marius, the gamma and Amara’s birth father, got out of their truck, wielding gleaming axes. How odd. Maybe Marius needed one, but Boris was a protector, strong enough to rip trees out of the ground or crush a bear’s skull with his hands. What use had he for an axe?
Boris and Marius had insisted on accompanying them that night. Though Hakon appreciated their concern, he got the feeling Amara’s fathers didn’t think he and his brothers were up to the task. Their lack of faith in them was insulting. Hakon and Drasko were the biggest protectors in the Amaroki, and Luc was the best tracker. They were more fit to guard the veil than anyone, and they certainly didn’t require axes.
I don’t like this place, Luc projected to them, nostrils flaring as he skirted the car like a dog with his tail between his legs. Something smells unnatural.
Easy, Luc, Hakon said. Nothing is going to mess with us.
The tracker was too much on edge. Though he’d wanted to leave Luc home, his beta brother had refused to let them avenge Amara’s honor without him. Hakon knew Luc’s tracking skills would come in handy should the Devoras try to escape, but he worried Luc hadn’t had enough time to recover from his mission in North Korea. Hakon’s mind was eased when Luc broke from the pack and stealthily circled the perimeter of the camp, blending in with the trees with his camos and painted face.
According to Boris, they were stationed at one of ten camps surrounding the veil, which was visible only to shifters and wild animals. The veil, which reminded Hakon of a curtain of fog, was about thirty yards from the campfire. Hakon wasn’t certain, but he thought he saw a shadow with long claws dart past the other side of the curtain. Clearly his mind was playing tricks on him.
“This is where you will camp for the night.” Boris nodded to the low-burning fire and a threadbare tent in the narrow clearing among the pines. “You will be relieved at dawn by another pack. You must all stay awake. It’s not safe to sleep so close to the veil.”
“Thank you.” Hakon puffed up his chest, standing a good two inches taller than Boris. “We’ve got it from here.” His two brothers stood behind him, their shoulders pulled back and chins held high. Hakon felt pity for whoever or whatever was foolish enough to cross the Thunderfoots.
Boris and Marius exchanged grim looks.
“We will stay with you the first night,” Boris said as he sat on a log beside the fire, draping the axe across his legs.
“You’ve put in enough time. We can handle ourselves.” Hakon waved them away with a forced smile. He didn’t want to seem unappreciative, but they were worrying for nothing.
“Listen, pups.” Boris fixed him with a scowl. “There’s a reason we didn’t want you here, the same reason our sons are not allowed to watch the veil. We’re staying with you tonight. Our daughter would never forgive us if you were taken by the forest.”
“Taken?” Rone’s voice shook.
Hakon repressed a curse. These men are trying to scare us, Rone. Don’t fall for it.
“What do you think happened to the Devoras?” Boris asked, slapping his palm against the head of the axe. “Do you think they went in there willingly?”
“Yes,” Drasko interjected. “To escape you when you were pursuing them.”
Boris shook his head, snickering. “There is no fate worse than being consumed by the Hoia Baciu. The Devoras were either tricked into going into the forest or a demon took them.”
Hakon gaped. “A demon overpowered a protector?” That didn’t make sense. Surely a demon was no match for a beast as big as a bear and twice as strong.
Boris heaved a sigh before sharing another knowing look with Marius. “Some demons are bigger than protectors.”
Hakon had to force his mouth shut.
“Don’t worry,” Marius said. “They can’t get you unless you wander too close to the veil.”
“We think a demon must have tricked them,” Boris added. “They can mimic the voices of your deceased loved ones.”
“They probably disguised themselves as the Devoras’ dead mate and brother,” Marius said.
Hakon’s gut soured. He’d thought talk of the demons and spirits behind the veil was only hearsay, rumors of whispers heard in the night.
“Damn,” Drasko grumbled before projecting to Hakon. We may need our own axes.
Hakon rubbed his stubbled chin, eyes narrowing. Something didn’t add up. “Why are we watching the veil if the Devoras disappeared behind it six weeks ago? They’re obviously dead.”
Boris arched a pale brow. “Or undead.”
“W-what?” Rone stuttered.
Boris’s features darkened. “There are tales of packs wandering into the veil and returning as unholy creatures.” Marius folded his arms, leveling them with a hardened stare. “Where do you think the origin of werewolves began? It was based in truth. Shifters were transformed in the veil.”
A chill swept up Hakon’s spine. Were these wolves for real, or were they trying to frighten them?
“They prey on human flesh,” Boris added with stony eyes. “One bite can turn any of you into werewolves.”
“Fuck.” Rone stumbled back, falling into a metal chair, its hinges screeching under his weight.
For the first time in Hakon’s adult life, his knees weakened, and it took all his strength to remain standing.
“How do we fight them without getting bit?” Drasko asked.
Boris and Marius held up their axes. “A silver blade,” Boris said, handing his axe to Hakon.
“These axes may very well save your life.” Marius gave Drasko his axe.
A howl rent the stifling air.
Rone’s eyes widened. “What was that?”
“A demon.” Boris’s tone was grim. “It scents fresh blood. Don’t let it lure you to the veil.”
“Nepotii,” a scratchy, familiar voice called from behind the veil. “Bunica has fresh cookies for you.”
Luc raced into camp and clutched Rone’s shoulder. Drasko let out a low growl, followed by a whimper.
Hakon gaped at them, all moisture in his mouth drying up like he’d swallowed a wad of cotton. That sounds like our bunica.
“Neopotii, come here,” the old woman begged.
Boris’s pale brows dipped low. “Ignore it.”
Through the curtain of mist, Hakon made out the shadow of a stooped woman, his bunica, who’d died five years ago. Or at least, a demon mimicking his bunica.
The protector inside Hakon wanted to charge the devilish creature. “This place is fucked up.”
Marius rubbed his face, the lines framing his eyes deepening. “Now you see why we didn’t want you to come here.”
“Help, Neopotii!” The demon waved its hands. “Bunica needs you!”
Luc let out a pitiful howl. “Isn’t there a way to shut it up?”
Boris shook his head. “Not unless you leave.”
Good idea, Luc said.
I
miss Amara, Rone whimpered.
Hakon stiffened. We are Thunderfoots. We are not cowards! They couldn’t return to Alaska with their tails between their legs while other wolves did all the work. He clutched the axe in a death grip. “We’re not leaving.”
“Fine.” Boris threw up his hands. “But you must promise us one thing.”
“What?” Hakon held his breath, awaiting Boris’s answer. He didn’t think he had enough resolve to make any more commitments. He and his brothers had already taken on more than they’d prepared for.
“Do not tell our daughter of the horrors you’ve seen,” Boris said.
“She’s been through enough in her lifetime,” Marius added. “She doesn’t need to know about the veil.”
“You’re right,” Hakon said, “she’s been through enough.” He made no promises, though. He had a feeling Amara would coax it out of him. She had a way of bending him to her will with a coy smile or her sultry voice.
As he and his brothers sat around the fire, trying and failing to tune out the demon with their grandmother’s voice, he realized Amara’s fathers were right. She couldn’t know what they were doing. It wasn’t wise to make her sick with worry in her condition, which meant he and his brothers would have to avoid conversation with her while they were in Romania. His brothers wouldn’t like it, and neither would he. Hakon had been looking forward to the sweet sound of her voice after his shift, but he saw no other way around it.
The demon’s cries intensified. Luc and Rone covered their ears, and Drasko swore. Hakon had a feeling this was going to be the longest week of his life.
AMARA SHUFFLED DOWNSTAIRS, checked on her dogs, then went to the bathroom to throw up before crawling back into bed with an icepack on her head. This had been her routine for the past five mornings. Her in-laws knew not to offer her any food before 10:00 a.m. because she couldn’t keep it down. Around ten thirty, she’d develop a voracious appetite and eat a few waffles and scrambled eggs, and then go back to bed once more and sleep until past noon. She didn’t know if it was the pregnancy or her depression that made her so tired, but she felt like a bum.
She was so sick most mornings that she had to postpone visiting the local animals. Her energy didn’t pick up until late afternoon, leaving her just enough time to play with her dogs before she had to lie down again. She couldn’t imagine going through this four more times, although she’d gladly put up with a lifetime of morning sickness as long as her mates safely returned to her.
