Tempted by Her Wolves: A Reverse Harem Paranormal Romance (Hungry for Her Wolves Book 4)

by Tara West

  Van sniffed their bodies, then shrank back. I’m not sure.

  They need a proper burial, Skoll said.

  A wave of shame washed over Tor for not thinking of it first. What kind of chieftain was he if he didn’t care? They do, but not here. Tor shook his head, frowning down at the old wolves. This land is cursed.

  The cry for help was louder this time, and there was no mistaking the alpha Eaglespeaker’s voice.

  Van looked at Tor with luminous eyes. How can we hear them if they’re dead?

  I don’t know. Maybe it’s not their voices we hear.

  What else could it be? Skoll demanded.

  Though Tor’s mind was still in a fog, one word projected into his skull. Demons.

  EILEA WOKE WITH A START and sat up, rubbing the kink in her neck. Morning light was coming through the window. She didn’t remember dozing off in her uncomfortable office chair. She’d gone in to call Uncle Joe and ask what the hell happened to her backup.

  She checked the time. It was almost nine. Fuck. She’d left Raz and Nakomi alone to take care of the patients for two hours. If Nakomi had hated her before, she loathed her even more now. It wasn’t her fault she’d gone soft since agreeing to be the Amaroki clinic doctor. She was losing her stamina after not having any real patients for over a year.

  She stumbled into the clinic, alarmed to see four more patients in the ten-bed room. They only had three beds left. Where would she put them if more shifters came down with this virus?

  “Nice of you to join us, Doctor,” Nakomi drawled in her heavy accent. “Hope you enjoyed your nap.”

  “Go easy on her.” Raz draped a cloth over a patient’s forehead. “Humans don’t have our stamina.”

  “Yes, I know how weak they are.”

  Ignoring her, Eilea approached the first bed, her heart hitting the floor when she recognized the old man who’d poured salt on her floors the day before.

  Raz hummed softly while gingerly stroking her mate’s long, gray hair and then kissing his cheek. She then tended to her other mate.

  “Raz,” she said. “I’m so sorry.”

  “Not your fault.”

  Eilea took their temperatures, alarmed at the readings, which ranged between a 103° and 105°. These old men wouldn’t live another day if their fevers didn’t break. Surprisingly, all the men were hooked to IVs. She moved to the medicine cabinet.

  “I already gave them fever reducer,” Raz said to her back.

  Eilea was surprised by Raz’s calm demeanor. “What else can I do?”

  “There’s only one thing left to do,” Raz said, smiling at her unconscious mate. “Pray to the Ancients.”

  RAZ’S MATES ALTERNATED between vomiting and sleeping, and their fevers still hadn’t come down. If Eilea couldn’t bring their temperatures down soon, they’d sustain permanent brain damage or worse. The oldest alpha was nearly eighty. She wasn’t sure if he had the strength to pull through. Nakomi’s mates had stopped vomiting, but they still had fevers. At some point during the night, they’d started to mumble. Eilea had no idea what they were saying. Neither did Nakomi or Raz, but Raz said she suspected it was an ancient tongue. What the ever-loving fuck?

  She heaved a sigh of relief when her uncle’s truck pulled in. Hopefully he brought good news. Though the government had refused to transport the sick shifters to a military hospital, the least they could do was send her a team of doctors and nurses. This epidemic would soon be too big for her to handle—not that Raz and Nakomi weren’t helpful. Raz had proven to be especially useful.

  A man got out of the truck with Uncle Joe. She vaguely remembered the agent from last year, when she’d given him a flu shot. He’d asked her on a date afterward, and she’d flatly refused, watching with disgust as he skulked out of her clinic.

  It was Uncle Joe’s turn to skulk. She could tell by his posture that the news wasn’t good.

  She left the sick room and quickly crossed to the front door, opening it and breathing in the cool fall air, relishing the smell of pine needles as opposed to the stench of vomit.

  She told both men to jump over the salt circle, as per Tor’s orders. No way did she want the vengeful spirit getting back inside.

  Uncle Joe came in, sniffed, made a face and swore.

  “You think the stench is bad?” she asked with a smirk. “Try cleaning it off your clothes and out of your shoes.”

  He shuddered. The agent who’d followed him into the clinic was a short, stocky white guy with spiked, dark hair and a tan that had to be spray on. “Eilea, this is Jimmy Parelli. He’s not only one of my agents, he’s also a licensed LVN.”

  Uncle Joe couldn’t expect her to work with this loser. She gave the guy a half-hearted nod. “Agent Parelli.” She refused to call him by his first name. No way did she want to get on familiar terms with him.

  The look in his brown eyes reminded Eilea of a snake getting ready to pounce on a mouse. “Hi, Eilea.” He licked his lips and held out a hand.

  Gross, and where the fuck did he get off, calling her by her first name?

  She glared. “Dr. Johnson, please.”

  He shrugged, flashing a crooked and blindingly white grin. “Of course.”

  She hated bleached teeth, or at least she hated teeth that were so white, they looked blue. Uncle Joe rocked on his heels, ignoring both of them while checking something on his phone. “Jimmy is going to help you with the clinic,” he said with disinterest, tapping his screen.

  She groaned. “I need doctors and RNs. I already have people to clean up bed pads. No offense, Agent Parelli.”

  “None taken.” He purposely scraped her shoulder as he brushed past. “I need to change.” He wore an expensive suit and shoes.

  “Supplies are in the backroom,” she said with a resigned sigh. Any kind of help was better than none.

  “Thanks, Eil..., err, Dr. Johnson.” He headed for the back.

  His smug tone grated on Eilea’s nerves.

  Uncle Joe slipped the phone in his pocket, giving her a pointed look. “I can get you supplies. I can’t get you more staff.”

  “Why not?” She didn’t mean to sound so harsh, but fuck, she couldn’t be the only doctor on call. She’d need to sleep and eat at some point.

  “The clinic and reservation are on lockdown. Nobody is allowed to leave, and Jimmy was the only agent who volunteered.”

  Panic threatened to split her skull in two. “This is stupid!” She was trapped on this godforsaken reservation?

  “Until this virus is contained, the government is not taking any chances.” The lines framing his eyes deepened. “We don’t know if it can spread to humans yet.”

  “It can’t be transmitted to humans,” she insisted.

  “How do you know that?”

  “Drasko Thunderfoot was by this morning. Amara spoke with their goddess, and humans aren’t affected.”

  “That’s what I’m supposed to tell my superiors?” He snorted. “That the Amaroki gods said it’s not contagious?”

  “Look, I don’t have the time or the energy to fight this.”

  “What supplies do you need?”

  “Beds, food, electrolytes....” She threw her hands in the air. “A bigger clinic.”

  “I can get those,” he said and marched out of the clinic.

  She stared after him, hurt that he hadn’t even asked how she was holding up and feeling too much like that orphaned little girl whose uncle had abandoned her for his career. He had always been reticent, somewhat aloof, but he could’ve shown her a little compassion. Maybe even thanked her for her sleep-deprived sacrifice.

  “How do I look?”

  Jimmy had reappeared in tight blue hospital scrubs that stretched across a broad chest, emphasizing muscles so big, he had to have been on hormones or steroids. He winked at her and flexed a bicep.

  “They’re a little snug, but I’m used to it.” He flexed his other arm. “Most everything nowadays is made for puny men.”

  “Yeah, whatever,” she sai
d, averting her eyes and hoping he understood she wasn’t impressed. After seeing the Lupescu alphas transform into hulking white beasts easily ten feet in height, all men were puny to her, even this ’roid freak show. “Go see if Raz needs any help,” she said brusquely.

  He strutted away with his chin held high and chest bowed out like a peacock in a henhouse. She rubbed the dull ache in her temples with a groan. She was going to need to throat-punch someone if she had to put up with Nakomi’s scowls and Jimmy’s flirting another day.

  Chapter Six

  AMARA HELPED RONE FEED Hrod and Alexi breakfast while her other mates paced, watching for any sign of their fathers. Her mother and sister-in-law, both with red-rimmed eyes and noses, sat on the sofa and held each other. They hadn’t seen or heard from the search party all night. Their phones went to voicemail, and they didn’t return Luc’s persistent howls. Luc had begged Hakon to let him go after them, but he’d refused, saying they needed to respect Tor’s orders. Hakon’s resolve was weakening. He and Drasko had finally decided Drasko would go after them if they didn’t return by nightfall.

  The thought of Drasko alone in a forest that was most likely haunted turned her stomach into knots, even though she knew he was their best hope. After he’d suffered demon burn a few years ago, he was immune to the sudden sickness plaguing their tribe. With Amara’s new gift of premonition, she had tried many times, but she couldn’t see any signs of them approaching. She asked her toddler, Hrod, who’d been blessed with the gift of sight, if he could see his grandfathers, but whenever he closed his eyes, he saw only darkness. It was as if the forest had swallowed her mates’ fathers. Would it swallow Drasko, too? If so, would her other mates risk their lives and go after him?

  The disease was spreading, and there was no sign of the witch. Drasko had just returned from the clinic after talking to the tribal medicine woman, Raz, but she denied being a witch. Like the goddess, Raz told Drasko the witch would reveal herself soon enough. Amara sure as hell hoped so. Instinct told her this virus was about to get worse. Raz’s mates were already sick, and they hadn’t been near the portal, which meant they’d contracted the virus from the Strongpaws.

  Suddenly a vision of Tor and his brothers returning in their truck, swerving down the road like drunks, popped into her head. She jumped to her feet. “They’re coming.” She clutched her chest when she saw another vision of them nearly hitting a tree. “They’re sick.”

  Tatiana and Mihaela ran to the door, neither stopping to grab their jackets.

  “Fathers!” Tatiana screamed while throwing open the door.

  Luc draped a thick blanket over Amara’s shoulders and kissed her hand, his eyes dazzling with something akin to pride. Luc had always been kind and caring, but never like this. How she relished his attention. They followed Amara’s alphas, leaving Rone with the babies. She cast Rone an apologetic look, but as always, he didn’t seem to mind staying behind with the children.

  The frigid fall air hit her like a frying pan to the face. Her nose and cheeks burned with the chill. She breathed in deeply, disturbed by the odd taste on her tongue. The rotten egg stench was far worse than yesterday. “Do you smell that?”

  Luc nodded. “It’s the smell of evil.”

  She shuddered, her knees weakening. When he tightened his hold on her hand, she managed a thin smile. If Luc hadn’t been lending her his strength, she’d probably pass out from fright. She wasn’t afraid for herself; she was terrified for her family, especially her defenseless children. After witnessing the evils of Romania’s haunted forest, she feared what would happen if her reservation was taken over by something similar.

  They waited far too long for her fathers-in-law.

  Tatiana and Mihaela danced around, rubbing their hands together while watching the road for them.

  Eventually, Tatiana huffed and puffed at Amara. “I thought you said they were coming.”

  “They are.”

  “Should we go after them?” Luc asked.

  “No.” Hakon frowned. “Father said to wait.”

  A cool breeze ruffled Amara’s hair. Ammmmara, the wind whistled.

  She looked at Luc, who didn’t show any signs of alarm. Was she the only one who could hear the wind?

  Drasko went back inside, returning with coats for his mother and sister, and then they waited and waited while Amara swatted the breeze that ruffled her hair. She heard her name a few more times. A demon or ghost was taunting her. She wondered how far the spirit would go before taunts turned into aggression. Just when she thought she’d go insane from the wind’s heckling, Tor’s truck crawled into the driveway and rolled into a tree. Their doors creaked open, and they stumbled out of the truck.

  Drasko’s arm shot out, latching onto his mother when she tried to go to them. “Wait.” Tor bent over, using his knees for support. “Don’t come near us.”

  “Darlings, what happened to you?” Mihaela begged, falling to her knees in a prayer pose.

  Tor slowly straightened. “Stay where you are. We don’t want you to get sick. We only came to warn you.”

  “Warn us of what?” Hakon asked.

  Tor rubbed his bloodshot eyes. “I-I don’t remember.”

  His brothers groaned muttered unintelligible noises while leaning against the truck. Van fell on his knees, vomiting into the grass.

  Drasko shot Amara a look over his shoulder. The goddess had better be right.

  She’s never failed me before. But she sent a silent prayer to her anyway, that she and Drasko were truly immune to this curse.

  “Everyone else back inside the house,” Drasko said. “Amara and I will take care of our fathers.”

  “But, but,” Mihaela cried.

  “Please do as he says, Mother,” Hakon pleaded, jutting a finger at the front door.

  Amara’s heart broke when Mihaela took Tatiana’s hand and went back inside after casting one last woeful glance at her mates.

  Luc planted a tender kiss on Amara’s forehead. You mean everything to me. If anything happens to you and our child....

  She nuzzled his neck. Please don’t worry, sweetheart.

  When he released her hand and walked away, she felt as if her world had tipped on its side. She hadn’t realized until that moment how much she’d been relying on his strength.

  Hakon came to her, lifting her off the ground in a big bear hug. He set her back down and kissed her. I love you.

  And I love you, she answered back, grateful she could communicate with him through thought, because she was too choked up to speak.

  Please give Rone and the babies my love.

  I will, Hakon answered.

  Drasko took her hand and led her toward his fathers.

  “I said to stay away.” Tor groaned, hunched over again, his normally tanned skin diaper-doo green. “I’m still your chieftain.”

  Drasko ignored his father’s protests and helped him into the front passenger seat. “Amara and I are immune.”

  Tor gave him a doubtful look. “How?”

  “We’ve already had demon burn.” Drasko buckled Tor’s seatbelt. “We can’t get this. Plus, Amara’s human blood gives her more protection.”

  She helped Drasko with the others, alarmed when she felt their foreheads. They were feverish and disoriented. Luc’s father, Van, was in the worst shape, with raised welts all over his arms. After she sat beside her mate on the bench seat, she prayed nobody vomited on her.

  Drasko peeled off down the road, swearing and punching the steering wheel when the truck pulled to the right. “The alignment is fucked up.”

  “Will we make it to the clinic?” she asked.

  “Yeah.” He grimaced. “We’ll just have to go slower.”

  She thought about asking Drasko to turn around and take his truck instead, but she didn’t want to have to go through the headache of loading her sick fathers-in-law into another vehicle. When Tor slumped beside her, she knew he’d be too weak to stand again.

  “Fathers,” Drasko asked, “what
happened to the Eaglespeakers?”

  “The who?” Tor groaned, pressing his cheek against the side window.

  “The Eaglespeaker pack.” Drasko enunciated each word. “Did you find them?”

  His expression went blank, and he let out a blubbery sigh. “They’re dead.”

  Amara’s heart slammed against her ribcage, and she sent a silent prayer to the Ancients to protect their spirits in the afterlife.

  “And the bodies?” Drasko asked.

  Tor moaned into his hands. “We couldn’t carry them. We could barely make it out ourselves.”

  Drasko gave Amara a knowing look. If we can’t stop this virus, we’ll be all that’s left of the Amaroki.

  “EILEA, WE’RE ALMOST out of electrolytes.”

  She fought to keep from rolling her eyes at the ’roided meathead. “I’ve already told you to call me Dr. Johnson.”

  He shrugged, flashing his stupid ultra-white smile. “Agent Johnson calls you Eilea.”

  “He’s my uncle. You’re not.”

  “Good thing.” He chuckled. “That would be weird.”

  He stretched his arms over his head, no doubt in an attempt to show off biceps that looked like stuffed pillows. There was no way in hell those bulging muscles were real. Just like his teeth and tan, this guy was head-to-toe artificial. She gave him a long, dark look. “Believe me, it’s already weird.”

  “How so?” He leaned against Albert Strongpaw’s bed, acting as if the sick man was nonexistent.

  Eilea stole a glance at Raz and Nakomi. They alternated between watching Eilea and Jimmy and bathing their mates with cool rags. She was embarrassed by Jimmy’s crude behavior. Not that she cared what Nakomi thought of her, but she didn’t want the shifter to think she was encouraging him.

  “Look, I’m not interested in flirting.” She had to work hard to unclench her hands when the pain in her palms became severe. “I have a job to do.”

  “Maybe after all this is over.” He winked, then inclined his head at the back room.

  Was this douche for real? “Maybe not,” she said clearly.