Cursed Mate (Feral Shifters 3)

Amora

As Felicity’sscouts race toward us, my heart surges into my throat, fluttering like a trapped animal and making it hard to breathe.

But we’ve already discussed this. Every evening for the past few nights, when we made camp to rest, we carefully talked over the plan for what we would do when we finally reached her pack territory. Even though the moment is dangerous, and I don’t know whether we’re going to be able to convince these shifters to listen to us, I’m ready for it. We discussed the best methods for de-escalating the situation and looking as non-threatening as possible, so we’re prepared.

I let the change ripple over me, and my wolf recedes back inside my body, leaving me entirely naked and exposed. Holding my head high, I keep my fingers on Frost’s back as he shifts to human form alongside me. He straightens, shaking his head as the change rolls through him. Once his soft white fur transforms to smooth golden skin, I tuck my fingers around his elbow and press against him. The black shadows that paint his body give an irritable wave but then calm down.

On my other side, Kian and Malix morph from wolf to human, and the four of us stay firm and outwardly calm. Standing our ground as the snarling wolves race toward us.

We won’t have much time to convince the pack that we’re not here to hurt them—if they give us any time at all—but by being in human form, we can make the obvious statement that we didn’t come to start a fight.

Of course, the fact that all three of my companions are covered in shadow markings doesn’t give us much of a leg to stand on.

Those shadows immediately mark them as the enemy.

We just have to convince Felicity’s pack otherwise. That won’t be easy, considering Felicity probably knows damn good and well that her ex wouldn’t hesitate to send spies onto her lands. For all she knows, we’re working for Quinton.

It’ll be an uphill battle to convince her she can trust us.

Hell, if I were her, I wouldn’t fucking trust us.

The wolves draw closer. I can feel their thunderous footsteps through the ground beneath my bare feet. Frost’s muscles tense beneath my fingers, and I squeeze him just enough to draw his attention away from the wolves.

“Look at me,” I murmur, keeping my gaze firmly on the advancing pack. “Don’t think about them. Look at me.”

In my periphery, his handsome, enigmatic face turns toward me. He’s eerily still in his usual statue mode, but I can feel his emotions through the connection we share. The moment his gaze lands on me, the tension flees and affection warms through our bond.

“Don’t look away,” I tell him softly.

I know it’s hard for him to obey, especially with ten furious wolf shifters hauling ass toward us, looking like they’re ready to attack. But I don’t want to take the chance that the stress of the encounter will send him right back into the shadows. I didn’t think we’d get him out the first time; I’m afraid a second descent into madness might be permanent.

Even with several feet of space between me and the other two men, I can sense the tension hanging in the air. Kian’s attention is split between the approaching pack and Frost as his muscles tighten like coils, ready for anything.

Of course he’s too stubborn and dominating to not look like he wants to take their heads off. The man is a walking force of nature, and that’s not really something he can turn off at will, even when he’s trying to give off the impression that he’s standing down.

Sliding my arm through Frost’s until our elbows are locked together, I hold up both of my hands in a gesture of peace. Our plans include me handling first contact with Felicity’s pack. No one has ever called me soft or cuddly, but compared to the three feral shifters, I’m the closest we’re going to get. I’m smaller, with less of an overall “I’m going to kick your ass” look.

Before the Silver Crest pack gets close enough to launch an attack, I raise my voice over the thundering of their paws. “We come in peace! We’re not here as enemies!”

The wolf at the head of the small group immediately puts on the brakes. His paws skid across the dirt, sending rocks flying, and he comes to a halt about ten feet away. His companions follow suit, kicking up more debris as they stop short on either side of the wolf in charge.

It’s not Felicity, because it’s a male wolf. Huge and red-furred, with brilliant green eyes. He cocks his giant head at me as silence stretches out over the rocky landscape around us.

Frost’s gaze bores into me. I know the Silver Crest wolves probably find it strange, maybe even alarming, that he’s looking at me instead of them. But it’s for their own good.

If he falls back into the darkness, I won’t be able to keep any of these other shifters alive.

The wolf with red fur stalks forward, but his pack members hang back. As he draws closer, I realize he’s nearly as big as Kian, who’s quite possibly the largest wolf shifter I’ve ever seen.

He’s still not as big as my men’s shadow wolf forms though. If things go south in a hurry, I can only hope Kian and Malix can take on the entire group themselves. Of course, if things go that far south, we’ll be on our asses and without a plan for the third damn time.

The wolf leader stalks past me, sniffing the air. He could be testing my scent for any number of things—if I smell like Quinton, if he can sense a betrayal. Mostly, he’s probably trying to intimidate me and get me to show my hand.

Lucky for him, my hands are free and clear.

I shoot a warning look at Kian and Malix, urging them with my eyes to stay put.

Kian looks like he’s chafing at letting me take charge, but I know it’s not because he doesn’t think I can handle it. It’s more that he’s worried about what might happen if the Silver Crest pack attacks me while I’m trying to look unthreatening.

I let the red-furred wolf do his macho circle around me and Frost, while keeping my elbow locked tight around Frost’s arm. Frost inches closer to me during the wolf’s rotation, until his nose is almost buried in my hair. He breathes deeply, inhaling me to calm the fury raging inside him. I can almost sense the shadows shifting and humming beneath his skin. His dark markings pick up speed, but after a few seconds, they slow again.

Getting closer to me, smelling me, works. I really do ground him.

The red wolf finally circles back around to where he started, then stands facing us, his muzzle lifted.

Magic shimmers over his body, and a split second later, I’m facing a burly, freckled man with fiery red hair and a matching beard. Sunlight glints off the ginger hairs coating his barrel chest. His hair is shaved on the sides but long on top and braided back in a Viking style.