The Curse

by Harper A. Brooks

  Astrid’s gut twisted. Erec was the one person who could save her from the Blue Moon, her only chance, and now he was gone.

  She had to rescue him before the Blue Moon rose, or they both were good as dead.

  And she loved him.

  The moment the words sprung up in her mind, her entire body uncoiled and relaxed. The same heated power she’d felt during her and Erec’s time together in the woods wrapped around her again. It weaved throughout every fiber of her being, causing goose bumps to rise. Filip had been right when he said when she finally knew it, she would know it. And she did. Absolutely. With her heart and soul. She loved Erec. He was her mate.

  And now he was gone, possibly forever. In an instant, horror, panic, and grief replaced every other feeling, all roiling inside and making her ill. Knees suddenly weak, she collapsed into the snow. Her stomach heaved and hot bile rose, scorching her throat.

  Jerrick could kill him. He could torture him.

  She gagged and coughed as her insides seized again in protest, bringing up more acid. If only she had told Erec she loved him sooner.

  Now that Jerrick had him and the Blue Moon was inching closer, she might never get that chance.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Nausea rolled through Astrid’s stomach. As did regret and fear. The emotions were too strong through the bond as people began to carry away the dead and treat the wounded. Her brother’s pain was still a constant throbbing in her side that made breathing difficult, even with the distance between them. That stabbing sensation layered with her pack’s anguish and her own worry for Erec was causing her stomach to roil and threaten to heave something up.

  There were no emotions from Erec that she could feel, and that only concerned her more. Was he dead already? Or was his unconsciousness only muting their pack connection?

  The morning air was thick with the scent of blood and the feelings of despair and apprehension. It hung like a fog around Svanna Rock, dense and oppressive. Astrid couldn’t help glancing up at the sky, too, half expecting to see another flock of arrows headed their way. No arrows appeared again, but that didn’t stop her from checking every once in a while.

  She had to see Filip. Her brother was strong—even stronger now that he was alpha—but she had seen the special knife Jerrick’s minion had used. It had been designed to render the victim immobile. Cause extensive blood loss. But Mila wasn’t new to treating injuries, even severe ones. She’d catered to many of her father’s and Filip’s battle wounds and even some of Astrid’s bumps and scrapes. If anyone would be able to stitch her brother up, it was his mate.

  He’s going to be fine. But there was a nagging uncertainty in the back of her mind. She had to see Filip and confirm it for herself. He would know what to do about Erec, too.

  Astrid strode over to the center of the camp where Filip and Mila’s tent was. A group of men had already reinforced the canvas sides and ceiling with tree branches, just in case of another aerial attack, and were moving on to her tent next. A good idea, considering many of the arrows had pierced the fabric. She would have to patch the holes to prevent rain or snow from getting inside, but that was a task for another time.

  Her father turned back the flap of Filip’s tent and stepped outside. The amount of blood covering his chainmail and soaking his hair would have been disturbing to Astrid on any other occasion, but it was the deep look of dismay on his face that made her pulse gallop. When his eyes found her, his frown only deepened.

  Something was wrong with Filip.

  He didn’t say anything as he walked away, and his silence was confirming her deepest fears. Panicked, she ripped away the flap and rushed inside.

  Filip was on the bed at the far end of the tent. His eyes were open—barely, but open—and he was looking at her. A whisper of a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, and Astrid could breathe again. Not dead. Her brother wasn’t dead.

  Mila was on her knees at his side, and when she rose to stand, that’s when Astrid noticed the dark crimson staining the blankets underneath his body. Filip had been stripped of his coat and shirt and lay bare-chested. Mila had already tended to his shoulder blade where the arrow had hit him. His side had already been wrapped, too, but blood drenched the bandages.

  Mila looked grim when she turned and took a bloody cloth over to the basin of water on the table.

  “Mila,” Astrid started, voice raspy from the fight. “How is he?” She was afraid to hear the answer, but she had to know.

  “I’m alive.” Her brother’s voice was gruff and tinged with pain, but it was music to her ears. His entire body trembled when he inhaled again, and he winced. Even though Filip wasn’t showing much of his pain, his hurt collided with her, as consuming as it had been before. Just through the bond, it was strong enough to make her light-headed. “That’s only because of your quick thinking, Ash,” he said.

  She walked over to the bed, begging her wobbly legs to not send her toppling over. She took her brother’s hand. His skin was cold to the touch, and it was unnerving. She hadn’t been quick enough, unfortunately, and now Filip was suffering for it.

  He must have sensed her sorrow because he gave her fingers a light squeeze. “I’m fine.” But the weakness to his voice and the chill to his touch said otherwise. “Mila sewed me up good. I just need to rest.”

  Anxiousness raked her insides. She knew her brother well enough to know when he was lying.

  “What did I miss?” he pushed through clenched teeth as he shifted uncomfortably in the bed. “I see you picked up a pretty nasty gash on your cheek. But none of those beasts are barging in, so I’m assuming we won?”

  She had forgotten all about the cut. It didn’t even sting anymore, and that meant it was already healing, which was good. She was lucky it had only been a surface wound. If only Filip had been as lucky. Even with the tremendous pain she sensed from his aura, she would still trade places with him in a heartbeat.

  You heard him. He’s going to be fine. He has to be. Might just take him longer to recuperate, is all.

  She blew out a breath, commanding her nerves to focus on the other problems they were now facing. Erec’s capture and the threat of another attack.

  “I don’t think it’s the end of it,” she whispered. “I have a bad feeling it’s just the beginning.”

  His brow furrowed. “Why do you say that?”

  “Jerrick’s men just retreated. And Jerrick himself was nowhere in sight. I think this was a test of some kind. A way to see what he was up against.” Actually, the growing itch of upcoming trouble was stronger than ever. She could sense the menacing energy in the air, taste it.

  “Maybe they knew they couldn’t win, and it was smarter to retreat.”

  There was no way they were that fortunate. Filip knew it, too, because his disbelief was evident, even when he spoke the words.

  “They have Erec.” Astrid couldn’t help the desperation in her tone. Or the way her heart pounded as images of Erec maimed and dying flooded her mind. “They grabbed him and fled.”

  His face fell. “What?”

  Tears gathered in her eyes. “Filip, I love him… I— I—” The words died on her tongue as the fear of losing Erec came crashing down upon her. “I can’t lose him…”

  “Then we need to get him back.” Filip pushed himself onto his elbows with great effort. Face contorted in pain, he tried to sit up fully. Mila rushed to the bedside again and pushed him back down.

  “Stay still,” she said, her expression stern. “Any movement like that will keep you bleeding.”

  Filip groaned loudly, but it was more from annoyance than anything else. He was never the type to stay put for too long. Something he and Astrid had in common.

  “Only a few days as alpha, and I’m already out of commission,” he huffed.

  “I’d rather you out of commission than dead,” Mila replied curtly. “Now, don’t move.” She threw him one more hard look before walking back over to the water basin to start wringing out the soaking rag
s.

  “You should probably listen to her,” Astrid said. She rubbed her eyes with her fists to keep her tears at bay. “She knows what she’s doing.”

  Filip gave a little shrug. “I’ll rest for today, but the pack needs me. Especially if you’re right and Jerrick isn’t through with us yet. We need to get Erec back.”

  “Do you have any ideas?”

  “Jerrick’s most likely taken him back to his camp. We need to find the camp, then we can scope his numbers and find out what we’re up against before forming an attack plan.”

  Sounded easy when Filip said it, but getting close enough to Jerrick’s pack without being seen—let alone finding his hideaway to start with—was going to be a huge challenge. And dangerous. Extremely dangerous.

  “We need to get him out before the Blue Moon.” Filip’s knowing gaze met Astrid’s, and like it always did whenever the topic of the curse came up, sorrow weighted the brown depths. It stretched across the bond, too, engulfing her in his worry. “We don’t have much time.”

  They had only days now. Every second was precious.

  Astrid bounced on her toes. “Then we’ll start the search today. Right now.”

  “You can’t go—” Filip started, but Astrid’s retort was quick, cutting him off. She had played this game too many times before.

  “I’m going,” she snorted.

  Filip smiled. “You didn’t let me finish,” he said. “You can’t go alone. Bec and Kalle will go with you.”

  “Oh.” That was reasonable.

  His voice turned serious. “Scout Jerrick’s camp. That’s all, Ash, and I mean it. Come back here and we’ll make a plan for the next step. Jerrick can’t know what we’re doing. Any rescue attempt now can ruin our chances of stopping him later. We need to learn all we can before we go to battle.”

  Astrid bit her lip. Though everything her brother was saying made sense, would she really be able to not do anything, especially after all the destruction Jerrick had caused? After all the lives he’d destroyed? And what if she found Erec there? Could she just leave him? She wasn’t sure she could answer those questions now.

  “Are you sure it’s best to go now? In the daylight? Without her wolf?” Mila chimed in, looking fearful. “Maybe if you wait for nightfall…”

  “I can’t wait,” Astrid said. “Who knows what Jerrick—” She stopped herself. She had to because tears were pricking her eyes again, and her temples were pounding. “I can’t wait…”

  Mila nodded as if she understood the turmoil Astrid was feeling. “Be safe then.” She walked over and wrapped her into a warm hug. “Come back to us.”

  “I will.”

  “I wish I could come with you,” Filip said. He winced again as another wave of pain shot through the bond, leaving Astrid momentarily breathless.

  “Stay here and get better.” She bent down and kissed his forehead. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

  “Just scout the camp. Please.” There was insistence in his stare and voice. “And don’t get hurt.”

  She nodded, not able to promise her brother anything just yet, and left through the tent’s opening. Once outside, she walked back to her tent and noticed Henrick standing there, as if he had been waiting for her to return. He had wiped his face clean of the blood, but the metallic smell of it still clung to his clothes. In his hand was a spear.

  But it wasn’t like any of the other spears in the weapons armory that she had used. The staff was made out of a polished dark wood, and intricate carvings decorated it. The closer Astrid got, the more she could make out what the designs were. At the base, two carved wolves stared at each other. Their tiny forms chased each other up the staff until they sat under a full moon at the very top, beside the spear’s tip. The detail was exquisite. Even the animal’s fur was sketched out and defined, and although these creatures were just made of shavings in the wood, Astrid could somehow feel the love between them, the joy. It made her heart swell.

  “Henrick?” Her voice was nothing but a breathy whisper as she took in the beauty of the weapon before her. “What’s this?”

  “A gift,” he replied with a grin. “For you.”

  She glanced at him, bemused. “You made this?” She’d heard Henrick had been an ironsmith for Mikel’s pack, but his skill surpassed any Astrid had ever seen before.

  He nodded. “I should have given it to you sooner, but I had some last-minute things to fix,” he said. “Now that Erec’s been captured, I know you’ll need it more than ever.”

  For a long moment, she couldn’t speak. No one had ever given her such a stunning and thoughtful gift. Her gaze traveled up and down the length of the staff, and she saw that the arrowed tip was not normal, either. Not made from metal but pink stone. And the sides had been cut very much like the knife Filip’s attacker had used, with jagged edges. Its frightening shape sharply contrasted the rest of the weapon’s beauty.

  Maybe that was the point.

  “Is the tip made from Svanna’s Rock?” she asked.

  “Yes, it is.”

  “That must have been hard to craft. How did you—”

  He held up his free hand to show the bandages wrapped around his palm and in between his fingers. “It wasn’t easy.” He laughed, hard and loud, his shoulders bouncing from the effort. “But it was worth it. The arrow can cut through almost anything.”

  Henrick thrust the spear toward her. “Use it well,” he said. Sorrow crept into his tone. “Jerrick took my Aggie from me. Don’t let him take Erec from you.”

  Aggie… His mate.

  When her blue-marked fingers wrapped around the wood, she smiled. It was surprisingly light in her hand and fit in her grasp perfectly. With a flick of her wrist, she gave it a quick spin, and the weapon became only a blur of air.

  She pulled the spear close to her chest. “Thank you,” she whispered, still amazed.

  With a weapon like this, she could strike faster and be more nimble with her attacks. If she ran into trouble during the scouting trip, she could defend herself, maybe even rescue Erec if the possibility arose.

  If there was a way she could rescue Erec without being spotted, why shouldn’t she take that chance?

  Henrick leaned in close, his expression taut with determination as if he knew where her thoughts were heading. “Now go get your mate,” he grunted. “Bring him home.”

  …

  Erec woke with a start and with the awareness of danger. He sat up quickly but groaned when pain in his head rushed forward, blurring his vision. He rubbed a throbbing temple and blinked through the pain. Steel bars stared back at him.

  He was in a cage. One similar to what Henrick and the other captives had been locked in.

  Panic slithered down his spine, coiling around him, and at the same time, the need to escape clawed at his insides. Erec scrambled to his feet, but the sharp punch of pain in his ribs and across his shoulders brought him to his knees again. He’d been lucky he hadn’t been left with more serious wounds during the fight, but the few blows he had endured and the open flesh on his back from the stone’s sharpness still resonated. Not to mention the pounding headache he had from being knocked unconscious. Again.

  A growl vibrated in his throat. Damn heathens kept getting the slip on him and using that coward move.

  So where was he now? He scanned his surroundings. Through his fuzzy vision, he couldn’t see much other than a few shadowy figures moving in the distance. No tents or cabins. Just trees. When he inhaled, a mixture of terrible odors assaulted his nose—urine, rotting meat, old blood, and sweat. Not even the scent of a burning fire touched the air.

  That was strange. He had to be in Jerrick’s camp. The bastards who’d grabbed him must have taken him back to their pack. But then, where were all the normal smells that came with a campsite? Cooking food and smoky fires? And the sounds… Erec listened intently for anything that may hint to where he had been taken. The murmur of whispered voices carried on the breeze, but not loud enough for him to distinguish
any words. He cursed.

  Just like Jerrick had done with his other captives, he must have Erec far enough away to not gather any helpful information but close enough to keep a watchful eye on.

  Erec glanced around the cage and found the familiar massive metal lock around the bars. There was no way he was going to be able to pry it open. He was going to need something heavy, like an axe or mallet. A quick glance around his prison confirmed he wasn’t that lucky. The cage was empty except for him. And that meant he was stuck for however long Jerrick wanted him here.

  What about Astrid and the Blue Moon? If he didn’t get out of here in time, then they both would die.

  He had to escape. It wasn’t just about his life anymore. It was about hers.

  The crunch of approaching footsteps made his breath freeze in his lungs. Not just one set, either. Multiple, and all heading in his direction. Erec climbed to his feet, ignoring the pain slicing through his skull and the throbbing in his muscles. His gaze focused on the moving shadows ahead.

  Jerrick was the first to materialize. Just like in Erec’s nightmares, strings of greasy black hair fell in front of equally black eyes. There was a deep-rooted madness in that dark gaze that was decades old. It spoke of years of ruthlessness, of clawing for power and bloodlust. He wasn’t as tall or as massive as Boden, but his oppressive, overall threatening essence made him appear larger than he really was. And all the more dangerous. He wore a thick coat of slate-gray fur—wolf fur—and ice ran down Erec’s spine. He didn’t even want to think about whose back Jerrick had skinned to make it.

  Jerrick’s lips twisted into a pleased smirk, and that was all it took to make Erec’s anger surge. He launched himself at the bars, snarling fiercely, but the insane alpha only laughed, flashing a mouthful of sharp teeth. His laughter was just as menacing and earsplitting as Erec remembered. He clenched his jaw as the harsh sound ricocheted through him.

  Another figure appeared behind Jerrick, and Erec was surprised to see that it was a woman. In contrast to his dark looks, her hair was as gold as the sun and pin straight. Her face was round and suggested a kind demeanor, but there was a haunted weight to her eyes that said she had been through a lot in her life. And if she was Jerrick’s mate, which Erec was assuming, that wasn’t doubtful.