Cursed Mate (Feral Shifters 3)

Amora

Over the next few days,I keep thinking about what Malix said.

His observation was definitely on point. I’m just as much an outsider among these wolves as the three shadow shifters are. Which is strange, considering I’m not full of shadows, nor am I one of Quinton’s pack, so in all actuality, I should fit in with these shifters just fine.

But I’ve been on my own so long that I might as well be a different breed.

Each day on the move is a blur of running, resting, then running again. We stop for short periods, never staying in one place too long before we set out again. Each night, we hunt, sometimes with Felicity but mostly on our own.

I stick close to my men for most of the journey, despite the fact I have mixed feelings about thinking of them as “my men.” That’s probably another hold-over from my time alone, blowing like a leaf in the wind with very little to my name—not to mention, I’m still trying to come to terms with the fact that our bond didn’t fully break when they slipped me that potion.

The truth is, being surrounded by all the other wolves hasn’t lessened my connection to the three feral shifters. If anything, being so “on the outside” seems to have strengthened the bond I feel for my mates. With other people around to compare it to, the bond between us is more obvious—a different kind of connection than I have with anyone else. This is absolutely a mate bond, not just friendship or family. Not like Ridge, or Sable, or anyone back home in Montana.

Home. Ha. Do I even have a home anymore?

I glance at Frost. His white fur gleams like snow in the sunshine, while on the other side of him, Malix’s stocky, muscular black wolf looks like the yin to his yang. To my left, Kian keeps pace with me, and when I glance at him, our eyes meet. There’s a kind of understanding between us that we’ve never had before, and to be honest, it scares me.

Maybe “home” is with them. Wherever they may be.

But what does that say about me? What exists inside me, inside my wolf, that allowed me to forge a mate bond with three dangerous shifters full of darkness? After several years away from my pack, I no longer feel like I can relate to any of these normal shifters. I don’t fit in on an atomic level, as if somehow mating with shadow-filled shifters has changed my cosmic makeup.

Does that mean I have darkness, too? Something down deep that calls to their shadows?

The idea is unnerving. A little terrifying.

But it might be the only explanation that makes sense.

We reach the outskirts of Blood Moon pack lands in the early evening of our tenth day of travel. Felicity leads us to a small hidden valley well outside the pack’s protective boundaries, and we huddle up for one last check in before the “fun” starts.

It’s chilly, but the snow has mostly melted since the last time I was here, minus a few patches here and there that reflect the rays of the setting sun. I sit on my haunches between Frost and Kian, all of us waiting for the rest of the group to gather around. Felicity takes a central position, her salt and pepper speckled wolf short and muscular just like her human form, and silence begins to fall over the pack.

Felicity’s strong, sure voice reaches out through mind speak. All right. You all know the plan. We’re going in fast and dirty, but remember, we’re going in with the goal of creating a diversion, not falling into a bloodbath. Got it?

A few snuffles and agreeable snarls pipe up in answer to her question, although I can tell some of her pack are grumpy that they won’t get to lay waste to the enemy today. The most important aspect of this plan is retrieving the stone so we can take away Quinton’s shadow power and even the playing field.

Once that’s done, we can decide on the next course of action, which will probably be war. We just need more time to prepare for that.

Amora, Kian, Frost, and Malix will remain behind while we attack, Felicity goes on. Her dark gaze lands on us. We’ll handle getting the Blood Moon wolves to the southern end of the village so that you can access the bunker where Quinton keeps the stone. The moment the enemy pack rallies up a cry, you sneak in to get the stone.

But be fast, she warns us. We’ll hold off Quinton’s wolves as long as possible, but the quicker you get the stone and we can flee, the better. I don’t want any death here today. Her eyes meet mine as she asks, Think you can handle that?

I nod my agreement, a little surprised at the pointed way she’d asked me that question. I know innately that she’s not directing it at me because she thinks I’m going to take on Quinton’s pack all by myself, but because my men might.

It occurs to me suddenly that throughout this short period of time that we’ve been with the Silver Crest pack, Felicity has treated me as a kind of equal. Or a partner. Maybe her acceptance of this plan hinges more on me than on my men. Not that I’ll be the big hero in the story, but that when we’re in the thick of it, Felicity trusts me to keep my mates in line.

I don’t know for sure that it’s even possible for me to keep them in line. They’ve never willingly caved to any of my attempts to sway them from their path. And yet, somehow, here we are on a completely different path than the one they once thought they were born for.

So, hell. Maybe I’ve changed them more than I thought.

We split up without any further discussion. Kian takes the lead on our end, and we move quickly up the incline, angling toward the village that’s still out of view on the other side of the mountain while Felicity leads her wolves around the base of the mountain to attack from the most obvious point.

Is it weird to be here again?I ask, directing the question to all three men.

Malix is the only one who answers me. Yeah but in a good way, he says, flashing his violet eyes in my direction. Like we made the right choice leaving here in the first place.

Doesn’t feel like home anymore, Kian agrees.

My eyes widen at Malix, who looks as wolfishly surprised as I am to hear Kian admit that.

I guess we’re all rediscovering what it means to have a home and a pack.

The trees grow thicker as we begin to curve around the mountain, giving us more cover to sneak up on the village in the dusky twilight. My claws dig at the rocky ground and my legs burn from the effort of climbing such a steep angle at such a fast pace, but we can’t stop to rest. We need to be ready when the wolves at the bottom of the mountain start the diversion.

When the trees begin to thin around us, Kian halts and hunkers down behind some overgrowth, still hidden but with a good vantage point. Not only is the village fully visible at a glance, but I can see Felicity and her wolves creeping toward the farthest cabins too. They move swiftly and silently, like wraiths in the dusk.

The village is eerily quiet, given the time of evening, but I can smell a dozen delicious smells on the breeze that tell me we’re about to crash dinner.

Suddenly, several vicious snarls tear through the cold, quiet night air. Glass breaks, and a few startled cries join the growls. Light spills from one of the cabins down below as a door slams open, then a piercing howl raises the alarm.

Malix scuffs at the ground with his front paws, his tongue lolling out of his mouth in his excitement. That’s our cue.

Kian huffs. No. Not yet.