Cursed Mate (Feral Shifters 3)

Amora

By the timethe sun begins to set, we’ve boarded up the two broken doors, as well as strengthened our defenses on the other entrances. Not that a few two-by-fours and nails will keep out the shadows, but at least if they have to break through solid wood, we might hear them coming this time.

The boards give us a second reasonable defense, as well. I know without a doubt that the neighboring farmer called someone after what he saw. We have no way of knowing if someone’s going to show up to check on the place, but at least if they do, they won’t be able to get in easily either.

We debated leaving the house immediately after the fight earlier for obvious reasons. First and foremost because we’d been seen, but also because the shadows had found us. And quickly, too. Much more quickly than we’d expected.

But Frost’s condition is still… unstable. For safety’s sake—his and ours—we decided to stick around one more night and hope for the best. We have food, a roof over our heads, and time to figure out our next move. If a human shows up to check on the property, that’ll be easier to deal with than the shadows, at least.

Not to mention, Frost didn’t exactly leave a single shadow alive to report back to their tyrannical handler. Chances are Quinton doesn’t actually know where we are. At least not yet, thanks to Rambo the Shadow Wolf who broke his chains and laid waste to all of Quinton’s little pets who found us.

The remnants of our makeshift dinner are still spread across the coffee table in the dark living room. Turning on lights wouldn’t be smart, but that’s the nice thing about being a shifter. Seeing in the dark is like a sixth sense.

I’m curled on Frost’s lap with his fingers tangled in my hair and his other arm wrapped around my waist, holding me tight against him. He hasn’t stopped touching me since he came out of the shadows. Not that I’m complaining. I don’t want him to stop touching me either. It’s a reminder for me that he made it—he survived and he came out of the dark when we weren’t sure he could. I’m absolutely certain the contact between us is playing a part in keeping him from sliding back into madness.

I’m a literal tether to his sanity.

So despite the fact that I’ve never been a woman who likes to snuggle, I just want to burrow in his arms and stay here forever. I’ll stay as long as he needs me.

At the other end of the small, lumpy couch, Malix puts a hand on Frost’s ankle and gives his leg an affectionate shake. “You have enough to eat, man?”

Frost nods, his chin shifting the hairs at my neck. “It was enough. Thank you.”

Malix winks at me and flashes a smile. “There’s our guy.”

Kian sits in the chair across from us, eyeing Frost warily. Both of his brothers have been watching Frost like hawks, as if at any minute he might switch back to being wild and violent. Despite their obvious concerns, however, their relief is pretty clear too. Like me, they started thinking he was lost to them forever, and this is a tentative kind of peace formed from their unconditional love for him. That’s the thing about a familial bond, especially when it’s a bond you chose yourself—that love will always be stronger than any other emotion or worry.

“We need to discuss the…” Kian waves a hand in Frost’s general direction, his jaw tightening a bit. “You’re not cured.”

The reminder slashes through me. I slide my fingers over Frost’s arm where the shadows have finally calmed, moving sluggishly over his skin. His fingers dig into my side, and even though it hurts a little, I don’t complain.

I can be his stable ground.

“You’re right. I’m not,” Frost replies carefully. “They… they’re still with me.”

Kian nods. He doesn’t look mad, or like he’s blaming Frost for anything that’s happened, but the matter-of-factness in his tone leaves no room for interpretation.

He thinks Frost is a threat.

My jaw clenches with protective irritation.

Frost has only just come through the nightmare of being overtaken by the darkness inside him. If Kian’s overly protective fear-mongering sends him spiraling back into the shadows, I’m going to kick his ass, rip his arms off his ridiculously muscular body, and beat him over the damn head with his own fists.

But before I can shoot him a death glare to warn him to shut up, Kian continues. His tone is a bit more gentle this time, as if he’s realized all on his own that maybe Frost needs us to have a bit of faith in him right now.

“You have a handle on them for now,” he tells his brother. “That’s good. But what will happen if they rise up?”

“Yeah,” Malix agrees, his smile fading. “We don’t want to lose you again.”

Frost is silent for a moment, then he shakes his head. “I don’t know what will happen if they try to take over again. But I’ll do my best to be prepared.”

“We’ll be with you,” I add softly, wrapping my fingers through Frost’s and pushing more of my energy out toward him. I can feel it flowing through the connection, or bond, or whatever it is that connects us like an invisible thread. “We won’t let you go back to that place.”

Malix changes the subject, probably because he can sense the tension hovering in the air and wants to give Frost a break from thinking about his brush with insanity. “I can’t believe Quinton’s shadows found us. That fucker is getting way too good at controlling those damn things.”

“Quinton?” Frost asks. “He sent the shadows?”

Malix tosses his arm over the back of the couch and kicks his feet up on the coffee table. “Yeah. We thought Felicity had sent them at first, since she’s done it before. But the shadows said otherwise.”

I eye him, confused. “The shadows spoke? I heard them hissing, but I must’ve missed the words in all the chaos.”

Malix nods. “Yeah. They said something about how ‘he’ told them we wouldn’t be strong enough to fight them.” His grin widens. “Proved the asshole wrong, didn’t we?”

Kian grunts. “Frost did, anyway.” Leaning forward, he picks up his coffee mug as he adds, “Quinton is gaining power at an alarming rate.”

“While Felicity is obviously losing control of the few shadow minions she managed to summon,” Malix points out.

Nodding, Kian lifts one shoulder in a shrug. “Makes sense. She’s less willing to use shadow magic than he is. And she doesn’t have the stone, so I honestly don’t know where she got the power to do the small amount of shadow magic she’s done.”

The thought of Quinton’s stone—an actual piece of the shadow realm, imbued with all the dark power of that world—sends a chill up my spine.

“He’s obviously learned how to extract magic from that stone he got from the shadow realm more effectively,” I say. “We need to deal with him before he gets even more powerful.”

Malix nods. “And before he makes an army of violent, shadow maddened shifters.” He snorts wryly, scrubbing a hand over his short dark hair. “Isn’t it funny how we used to think Felicity was the enemy? She’s a fucking cake walk compared to that asshole.”

His comment sparks a sudden thought in my mind, and I sit up a little straighter, feeling Frost react to the change in my posture.

“Felicity,” I blurt out, my mind churning a mile a minute.

Kian and Malix both raise an eyebrow at me, and even though I can’t see Frost’s face, I somehow know he’s doing the same.

Malix cocks his head at me. “Yeah? What about her, kitty?”