Raining Kisses (The Opeth Pack Saga Book 2)

by Sascha Illyvich

  Nicholaus wouldn’t be able to bear the pain of seeing Katarina angry, upset and hurt. Not again. Not after two nights ago in Albuquerque when she’d started drinking and told him how she really felt. It had been embarrassing enough in front of Lukina, but in front of Krystyna, it would be shameful. Constant pressure tested his will to stay with those who loved him or spit on them and run when pressure became too tough.

  A door behind him creaked; he jerked his head around and saw Katarina standing outside, dressed in boots, a peasant skirt and matching blouse, her beautiful red hair tied back. She looked ready to run with him. “Is it okay, szeretőm?”

  No, he decided. He would never be free of them. And it was probably for the better. Nodding, he became a man again and walked to her. “Why do you look so sad, Katarina?”

  “Because I had a scary thought that things were about to get bad and you would desert us again. I couldn’t bear that. I couldn’t possibly forgive you if you left us again after last night.”

  Her words tore into his heart. He’d never live it down if he disappeared now. “I’m planning our trip out of Hungary, that’s all.”

  Her eyebrows rose. “We’re leaving Hungary?”

  Nodding, Nicholaus took her hand. “I’m taking you both back to America with me. Where it’s safe.”

  Hope registered across her face. “You mean it? You’re taking us with you, this time?”

  “The man seems to have learned a lesson,” Krystyna’s voice rang out from behind Katarina.

  “I can’t leave you both behind here,” Nicholaus told them. “Not with that angry mob. Once they figure out that Les duped them, we’re done for. I’m not loyal to this pack, but I am loyal to what belongs to my heart.”

  “It’s about time that you realized what your heart has always known, szeretőm.” Katarina stepped forward and reached for Nicholaus’s hands.

  “Come on.” He tugged her into the street. “Les suggested we head to Szentendré for the night then make our way to Budapest. I know it’s backwards since it’d be easier to not circle the lake and just go straight to the airport, but it’ll hopefully throw them off our trail. I’m taking you both back to Albuquerque with me.”

  Both nodded. Katarina seemed content with the idea of going back with him, but she said, “I am scared, though. I do not know the Americas as you do.”

  “Just,” he sighed. “Trust me, okay?”

  “You won’t leave us again?” Her eyes pleaded, tugging at delicate heart strings.

  He swallowed hard. If he paid attention to his heart then this would all be for their greater good, right? His emotional needs would be met and he could spend the rest of his days with his two lovers living in peace. The thought made him smile. “I won’t.”

  Wrapping her arms around him, Katarina sniffled, sobbed on his shoulder. “I couldn’t bear it if you did.”

  Tears soaked his shirt. Caressing her hair, he ran his fingers through her thick, red mane, smoothing over strands of hair that stuck out. He pushed her back from him, looked at her and smiled wider.

  “I need you both,” he whispered. A wolf howled in the distance, signaling trouble. The howl was low and rounded at the end. Someone was shedding tears at the loss of their mate. Was it the band of men who had come through that had caused the pain? Or was it another stubborn, stupid male?

  “Let’s go.” Krystyna motioned with her head, jarring him from the sound.

  “Anxious to leave?” Nicholaus glared at Krystyna.

  She nodded. “I am. I too have grown tired of being away from you.”

  “Really?” He cocked a brow upwards.

  She stared angrily at him. “Yes. Really.”

  Katarina held on tighter to Nicholaus. “She is anxious to leave, drágám. There has been a lot you have missed.”

  “You didn’t murder anyone, Krystyna,” Nicholaus stated with conviction.

  She turned her head away. “Come on.”

  Odd, her reaction. But he decided to file it away for later, if it became relevant. He had to assume irritation from her was a staple of her adult personality.

  Nicholaus put his arm around Katarina’s waist and reached for Krystyna. “You will tell me later.”

  “You are not my alpha,” she spat out.

  Nicholaus retracted his hand. “Perhaps not, but I am your mate. And it is my responsibility to know what goes on in the lives of those I care for.”

  Krystyna took a step forward, nostrils flared. “You haven’t cared for us in many years, Nicholaus. Why the sudden interest now? Why did you come back?”

  “Because I,” Nicholaus stopped. Why had he taken the sudden interest in his lovers again? He’d been alone for so long, so distant from all that he was and would be. He’d lost himself in the myth he’d created in order to protect others, that he knew now. But if he hadn’t come? What then? He’d already witnessed the weakness and struggles in the pack. Les hadn’t had a commanding place but used his magic to keep some semblance of control. That didn’t bode well for the pack that was supposed to open the way to a bullshit paradise. He snorted. “Well if she hadn’t come with Lukina looking for me, you’d still be trapped by those damn Turks. Or probably dead. Of course I’d come back for you.”

  “You didn’t several years ago.” She faced the house, her booted food crunched gravel. Rage flared off her and filtered into her scent, her stiff posture warned him not to approach her.

  Katarina reached for their lover. “Don’t say that, Krys! We didn’t know where he was and couldn’t get word to him. Surely,” Katarina turned to face Nicholaus, with tears running down her face, “you’d have come right?”

  He nodded. He couldn't make that promise, not truly. But he could lie about it and hope Katarina didn't see through his uncertainty.

  Katarina sniffled. “You shouldn’t have left in the first place.”

  “I know you feel that way—”

  “Doesn't that count for anything?” Krystyna glared over her shoulder. “You come back for us, and we’d talked last night. And—”

  “What did you expect? This village would have been ransacked. These others are weak and unable to defend you. You both would have been killed.”

  “You’re underestimating her.” Katarina wiped tears from her eyes. “You’re forgetting she is a capable warrior, as well as healer.”

  He pushed out a breath. “I’m not forgetting that, I’m telling you the truth. Those men were drugged. You didn’t see their eyes. Blood colored irises, pupils. I smelled the intoxicants on them. They shook unsteadily. Had Les’s magic failed, he’d be dead. I’d be dead,” he beat his chest for emphasis, “And then they would have killed you. You can’t reason with rage, Krys. You just can’t.”

  Her expression remained nonplussed.

  The silence that fell between them signaled to him just how much he’d raised his voice. Yeah, they’d had eyes on them too. He looked around. “Fuck are you all lollygagging at? Get the fuck out of my business.”

  Shutters and windows slammed shut.

  Man he hated this fucking pack. Quickly, he shoved them back inside the house and shut the door behind them. The room seemed tiny to begin with but the moment Krystyna turned toward him, the air seemed to leave. The room shrank and the space between them he thought they’d closed last night had grown once again. “Fuck,” he threw his hands up, “I give up. What more do you want from me other than an apology, Krys? What more could a man like me give you?” He gazed deeper into the angry slits of her eyes, saw the pierced heart and realized she’d buried her pain just like he had. “I have nothing to fucking offer but my apology.”

  She stared, her eyes narrowing into angry slits, and then they opened once realization of what he’d said hit her.

  “God damn it.”

  Krystyna started to speak, but shut her mouth quickly.

  “I’m so sorry, drágám. If I could—” He stopped again. Nicholaus wasn’t going down that route today. He wasn’t sure he would turn back time if he
could, but he was certain that he’d make up for lost time now.

  “You’d what?” Krystyna stood with her breasts out, shoulders back. She looked fierce.

  She looked sexy.

  What was he supposed to say? There was no truth to tell, he's already said it. He was remorseful, regretting his stupidity even though he still thought it best. In the end, he had very little to add though. “I don’t know.”

  “I didn't think so, Nicholaus. You've tried to rule your life and ours from a distance. You’ve let us fend for ourselves and we've done okay. But in the end, that's all it is. An existence. Survival. We’re not living, not thriving. Not until we coalesce. And we can’t if you’re always running away.”

  “Are you suggesting we stay here and die?”

  “I’m suggesting,” she stepped forward, her lips pursed together in a thin line, “we stand and fight.”

  Tension, thick enough to cut with an ax, filled the air. “But moments ago you were ready to flee as fast as I could get us out of the country. What changed?” He sighed, this line of questioning was about to get ugly.

  “Fuck you, Nicholaus. If you don't know by now this is home then I can't help you.”

  He watched Katarina throw her arms around Krystyna and suddenly both women glowed bright white. The rise and fall of Krystyna's chest slowed, her breathing, which had grown into pants, had settled into an even breath. Then, the light sank into her skin and she fell to the couch with Katarina’s help.

  Katarina looked over Krys's shoulder at Nicholaus. “She's been stressed out a lot, Nicholaus.”

  Krystyna closed her eyes, put her hands on her face, and turned toward Katarina.

  “What has been happening?”

  “You left, the stress of that she’s carried around. She told you she had to bear the burden of my volatile emotions without balance. You ripped that away. No man is an island, Nicholaus. No matter how much we want to be, we need people, szeretõm. Never forget that. Your roots as a wolf should remind you daily you have a pack.”

  “This?” He spread his arms out, indicating the weaklings who could not manage to fend off the crazy intoxicated hunters. “This is a pack? This is a bat shit crazy ass mess, Katarina. And an illusion. There is no Heaven, no Goddess to save us. Józsi was right to—”

  “Say it.” Katarina stood and glared daggers at him.

  He never expected his emotional little wolf to stand up like she had.

  “Even I have my limits and breaking points, Nicholaus. You two have always had an opposite way of looking at the same thing but the fucked up thing,” her voice dropped, almost to a growl, “is you both are the same stubborn people. You both do the same things, just in different manifestations. Leave it be, please. We need you to be here for us, to love us. To not betray us or the truths our hearts know. Heaven or not, this is where we belong. And how we belong, like last night. You know in your heart and head I'm right.”

  She had him there. Well except for the bit about being in Hungary.

  “Józsi will return shortly I’m sure and for that, we must prepare. If Les suggests we go to Szentendré, then we should go to that tiny village and hide out for a few days. It will throw them off, as you say. If we are to be together you have to trust us as we trust you.”

  There it was, wasn’t it? Just as plain as day, the real issue reared its head without forgiveness. Trust. He’d trusted himself to do the right thing, and led his life with the intent of being the one who knew better, didn’t he?

  And how had that turned out?

  It looked like he wasn't ever escaping the pack. They were a fucking mess and so was he. Even if he left and never looked back, he couldn’t free himself of the shackles, but he didn’t know where to start or how to proceed. Hell, he didn’t even know if he knew how to trust others.

  Krystyna and Katarina deserved a chance though.

  He looked up, put his hands on the back of his head and exhaled sharply. “Fine. Let her rest then we’ll go to Szentendré.”

  Chapter 7

  It had been a long trip to Szentendré, but the trio had made their way without speaking much. Krystyna ran out in front with Katarina close behind and Nicholaus bringing up the rear. A fierce wind blew against them, ruffling fur and carrying scents of other animals along with it. There were other wolves of course, different packs, even the pungent scent of the Turks nearby.

  That scent alone gave Nicholaus pause and made him want to rethink this trip to Szentendré. Were the Turks following them?

  It didn’t matter. Against the background of the wind, the mountains to their north and fields to the south of them, wolves howled in the distance. Nicholaus wondered if they were feeling the same heaviness he was, the burden of being a lupine creature, the burden of the Goddess.

  The sun had set by the time they made their way into the inn reserved for their kind. Darkness blanketed the sky with no sign of the moon, just the millions of stars that reminded Nicholaus about grand schemes.

  The town was small, old and held onto the classical Old World European architecture, complete with cobblestone streets and wood framed houses, not unlike the village where Józsi kept the pack.

  Once at the inn, the innkeeper showed them to their tiny room.

  Nicholaus went in first, surveying the area. Small, yet the queen sized bed would sleep the three of them just fine he supposed. A wool blanket and cotton sheet had been pulled back, three sets of pillows had been brought in to replace the one set originally left. Wood paneling framed the windows and dark colored drywall, and his boots clicked against the hardwood floor. “It’s safe.”

  An old oil lamp sat on the nightstand beside the bed, complimentary copy of the humans’ bible sitting beside it, screaming defiance at Nicholaus. He grabbed it, opened the drawer, shoved the damned thing in and slammed the drawer shut before ushering in his mates.

  The bathroom of course was even smaller but the one realization Nicholaus kept close to mind was that they were closer to Albuquerque than they’d been out in the Balatonföldár.

  Without saying a word, Krystyna stripped off her clothes and walked into the tiny bathroom, slamming the door behind her and leaving Nicholaus alone with Katarina.

  “She really is upset with me, isn’t she?” He stroked Katarina’s palm with his fingertips.

  “You hurt us both, Nicholaus. Leaving wasn’t your brightest idea.”

  “So I hear.” He sat down on the edge of the bed.

  Looking out the window, Katarina swayed from one foot to the other. She turned to face him.

  “You always have such a sad expression, drága? Why?”

  Her smile was weak, beautiful still. Her eyes were wide, deep pools of emotion that swirled within her forest green irises. “I am sad for my lovers. I am sad for you, Nicholaus.”

  No one should be sad for him. Ever. “But why?”

  “Because you have so much in front of you and you’d deny it all, throw us all away.”

  “This pack?”

  She stepped closer, hands on her hips now. “Yes, that too. But you have the love of not one, but two very special women. We want to be your world, Nicholaus. But you want out. I see it in your eyes. Even now you're searching for a way out of what is natural, what is to befall you and it pains me.”

  “Katarina, I…” He couldn’t finish.

  She sank to her knees in front of him and looked up at him. He pushed loose strands of hair away from her face. “Krystyna didn’t actually murder anyone, did she?”

  “You should know better than that, Nicholaus. She is a healer, like me. Not a murderer.”

  “Like me.”

  “No,” Katarina leaned forward, setting her face against Nicholaus’ thigh. “Like Kiba. Yes, she is a fierce warrior as I said earlier. She will fight with us when the time is right but—”

  “But what if she gets hurt?”

  “Then I will heal her, naturally. And you will not let harm befall her, I know this in your heart.” She reached for him, pressed
her palm flat against his chest.

  His pulse sped. Shuddering, his groin stirred from the contact. Her mouth hovered so close to him. She smelled of hormones, of fear. Musky sex and bitterness, almost like fruit and wormwood. He set a hand on her cheek, the contact stirring something inside him. A need to reconnect, reaffirm his humanity. Every nerve primed itself for further contact.

  Katarina leaned into his stomach. She nuzzled him, wrapped both hands around his hips and caressed him.

  “Why don’t you use your energy to heal either of us more frequently, drágam?”

  She looked up, the intensity of her green eyes filling with something resembling lust to replace the sorrow. “Because this energy drains me. It actually hurts me to take what I do from the both of you, drágám. But you two are capable of greatness when you figure out what you need.”

  “What is that? And why more cryptic statements, Katarina?”

  Her eyes closed partially, lips pressed together and her brows knit as though in thought. Then she smiled. “It is our way, drágám. It is how we live. In riddles, as was our gift.”

  “This is no gift,” he scoffed, crossed his arms over his chest, then felt the ache from lack of skin on skin contact from Katarina. He cupped her face again, took her chin and lifted her head up, “this is torture. To know nothing of what’s to come other than some ancient words no one understands is a hell I’d rather do without.”

  She cocked her head and offered a weak smile. “Indeed, but it is our fate.”

  “I have controlled my fate for the last several years. I am master and commander.”

  “But you’re here,” she grinned, “of your own volition. Or is this destiny because of the prophecy? There is always a bigger picture, surely you know that.”

  Her soft tone made it hard for him to argue angrily with her, but he had to question the questions. Why was this so important? What was the big picture and how did he fit into it?

  He didn’t. That's how.

  Yet here he was, shepherding his lovers from harm’s way until he could come back and then what? “What will I do if I came back to the pack?”