Cursed Mate: A Reverse Harem Shifter Romance (Feral Shifters Book 3) Read online

  Malix circles around to the opposite side of Frost’s heaving form, his head swinging toward me as his lupine eyes meet mine. Can he hear us?

  Frost lunges at me, and I feint right. When he reacts, I dart left, then roll my body underneath his legs. I slam into his back legs in an attempt to take him down, but he barely even wobbles.

  He howls, the sound loud enough to send birds fleeing into the sky from surrounding trees.

  I manage to disentangle myself from Frost’s stamping paws and roll away.

  Fuck. I don’t know, I reply to Malix’s question, baring my teeth in a snarl. It doesn’t seem like he can.

  Or he just doesn’t care, Malix shoots back grimly.

  Frost snaps at him, and while our brother’s attention is divided between us, I launch myself through the air to go for another takedown.

  My teeth snag on to the back of Frost’s neck. I yank, but he doesn’t go down. At least, not the way I want him to.

  Instead, he thrashes wildly, tossing himself to his back.

  All the breath in my lungs is forced out as I slam into the dirt with Frost’s considerable weight on top of me. I’m too stunned to move, unable to drag another breath into my body. Frost leaps off me, then I hear Malix yelp, followed by the heavy sound of fading steps.

  Shit! He’s going after Amora! Malix shouts through mind speak.

  I’m on my feet in an instant, urgency burning through my veins. I sprint after Frost, not even pausing to make sure Malix is with me.

  I don’t know how to subdue Frost. He’s our brother—I don’t want to hurt him. I don’t want to break bones or shed blood. But he’s fucking wild. There’s hardly anything consciously human left in him. Coupled with the fact that he’s bigger, stronger, and fighting dirty, we’re all in danger.

  But no matter what, we can’t let him hurt Amora.

  No more holding back, I tell Malix gruffly as I put on a burst of speed to catch up to Frost. I can see Amora just ahead, running for all she’s worth.

  Not fast enough, though. Never fast enough to outrun a shadow wolf, and especially not one on goddamn steroids.

  Malix’s growl echoes in my mind. Right. No more holding back.

  My paws barely touch the ground. I fly after Frost’s larger form, gaining speed on him thanks to the sheer dumb luck of being smaller. A larger size doesn’t necessarily equate to greater speed, and for that, I count myself lucky.

  Size does, however, mean strength. We need a plan. Fast.

  I draw up alongside Malix, both of us only a couple feet behind Frost. The forest spreads out ahead of us toward the distant mountain, the trees thinning out to our left and growing denser to our right.

  If we could knock Frost out...

  Amora! I shout. Hard right. Now!

  She doesn’t reply, but her lupine form immediately cuts sharply to the right and darts into the thick copse of trees. Where was this blind obedience weeks ago?

  Fucking women.

  I don’t realize I’ve “spoken” that aloud until Malix snickers and replies, Can’t live with ’em, can’t live without ’em.

  You’re still on my shit list, I tell him with a growl. For having sex with her against my command.

  Despite the danger of the situation, Malix still manages to shoot me a tongue-lolling grin. Twice.

  Amora crashes into the undergrowth, and Frost follows after. His larger size lays waste to the trees and branches, opening up a hole large enough for me and Malix to pass through after them.

  The forest floor here is so overgrown that Amora has vanished into the shrubs, which was exactly what I was hoping for. Frost snarls and comes to a sliding halt, sticking his snout in the air to scent her.

  We take advantage of his distraction and leap on him.

  Malix slams into his shoulders, and I go for the head, teeth latching onto one of Frost’s ears. Between us both, we manage to wrestle Frost to the ground, though he begins to thrash like he’s having a seizure. I cling to his ear, cringing when I taste fresh blood on my tongue. Frost slams me into the ground twice on a background of feral snarls. Malix scuffles with him, digging his teeth into Frost’s throat.

  I can’t hold on! Malix shouts. Shit! He’s too strong!

  I struggle to get my feet beneath me and shove at Frost’s thick skull to pin him to the ground. His hips and lower legs buck and kick. Malix takes a blow to the head and yelps, sailing away into the shadowy undergrowth.

  Frost flings me off his bloody ear. I hit the ground hard and brace myself as he lunges. He lands on top of me, fangs bared—

  And a dull, hollow thud echoes over the night’s insect song.

  Frost stiffens. Then his eyes roll back into his head, and he collapses to the ground next to me.

  Amora stands over us in human form, her chest heaving and a thick tree branch clutched in her hand, the heavy end of it resting on the ground. I know from experience that Amora swings a tree branch like a goddamn Major League baseball player. I had a concussion for days after she did it to me.

  Her wide green eyes meet mine, then she looks down at Frost’s unconscious body as it slowly shifts to human form. She lets out a little cry that tears my heart wide open. Her fingers convulse and the branch falls to the ground, then she sinks to her knees, looking haunted. Horrified.

  I’m not sure what’s upsetting her more in this moment—the fact that Frost has turned into a monstrous beast or that she just knocked out a recently resuscitated man.

  I grit my teeth. This entire situation is just fucked up.

  Malix and I shift back and quickly track down some thick vines to use as makeshift bindings. We wrap Frost’s ankles together, then bind his hands behind his back, using some of the handy knot tricks Frost himself taught me. I’m not sure they’ll hold if he wakes up, but hopefully Amora hit him hard enough to keep him down for a while.

  After checking his pulse and the lump on his head to make sure he’s not too badly injured, I stand, brushing my hands free of dirt. Turning away from his sleeping form, I glance down at Amora where she’s still kneeling on the ground.

  “We need to get going,” I say gruffly, averting my gaze so I don’t focus too hard on the hurt in her eyes. I already let my emotions get the best of me while Frost was unresponsive and not breathing. I can’t go back to that place right now. Shoving my emotions down, I tell Malix, “Get him on my back. I’ll carry him.”

  “You just carried him like fifteen miles,” Malix argues.

  “And I’ll carry him fifteen more,” I snarl, glaring at him as my carefully locked down emotions rage out of control again. “Get him on my back.”

  Before he can argue further, I shift to my shadow wolf form and lower to my belly.

  Amora scrambles to her feet as Malix leans over to reach for Frost. She hurries around me and goes to Frost’s feet to help lift. After a few moments of him sliding all over my back, they finally get him in a good position, and Malix throws another length of vine around my chest to anchor him in place so that Amora won’t have to sit behind him and hold him steady.

  Then Amora and Malix shift back to wolf form, and we’re on the move.

  We travel hard, leaving the mountains long before the sun starts to lighten the sky. After a while, we start to pass through farmland, patches of colorful crops and fallow fields dotted by lonesome farmhouses and barns.

  Out here, it’s going to be more difficult to find somewhere safe to rest. These houses are occupied by working families, and the first four or five we check out have lights burning and dogs barking inside. So we journey a bit farther, bouncing from house to house as the hazy early morning sky begins to lighten even more. I want us undercover—and Frost locked away for our safety and his—before the rest of the world wakes.

  Finally, we come across a two-story white farmhouse with peeling paint and a giant wrap-around porch that’s clearly empty. There are no cars in the drive, no animals in the pens out back, and the barn door swings on creaky hinges in the light breeze. A farm t
hat’s fallen on hard times, maybe, and a family that ended up somewhere else.

  Whatever happened here, it makes no difference to me.

  Malix and Amora untie the vines securing Frost and pull him off my back, then I shift and walk up the rickety porch stairs to put an elbow through the window beside the door. Glass shatters and rains down at my feet, and I brush away the excess before reaching through to blindly grope for the lock.

  One click, and we’re inside.

  It’s musty with disuse and smells faintly of mildew, but the furniture is all still here. I pass down a dark hall into the kitchen and poke around in the cabinets—plenty of non-perishables, and the water and electric are both still running.

  After one fucking hell of a night, at least luck seems to be favoring us.

  Malix joins me in carrying Frost down into the cellar beneath the house. The place is split into two rooms, one with an ancient washer and dryer and all the HVAC hardware, and the other filled with work benches and an array of tools.

  “The hot water heater,” I grunt, lifting Frost’s shoulders. “The pipes should be strong enough to hold him.”

  Malix nods, and we manhandle Frost’s bulk into the corner next to the water heater. We settle him on the floor as gently as we can, given the fact he’s as boneless as a rag doll.

  Once Frost is settled on the stone floor, Malix steps back and brushes off his hands.

  “I’ll find some rope or something,” he says quietly, then strides back into the workroom.

  I stand stiffly over our brother, staring down at his pale form. A massive bruise is forming just above his right temple, and his shadows jerk and wave irritably all over his naked body.

  He was dead. The excess shadows Quinton forced into his body destroyed him like parasites from the inside. He had no heartbeat. The warmth was fading from his skin.

  It’s a fucking miracle he’s alive.

  Fury floods through me in a sudden rush. But in this moment, it’s not directed outward. It’s all directed inward. At myself.

  This is my fault. I have one job as the oldest of the three of us, and that’s to keep my brothers safe. I should have been the one to stop Quinton from shooting Amora. I should have protected Frost, should’ve demanded that Quinton do that shadow shit on me instead.

  But I let Frost down.

  I’ve let them all down.

  Even Amora.

  Anger, despair, grief, hate… all of those emotions barrel into me at once. I can’t control them, just like Frost wasn’t able to control his wild, feral tendencies when he woke up. I feel like I’m about to burst out of my own skin, like all the rage in my chest is going to transform into a physical thing and tear me apart.

  I can’t be in this room anymore. I can barely stand to be in my own body.

  So I turn around and stalk past Amora, who’s standing silently by the open door. I avoid her gaze, and I avoid Malix’s questioning look as I pass through the work room to the staircase.

  I bound up the stairs and out of the house before I boil over and burn it all to the ground.

  Amora

  Kian stalks up the stairs, his footsteps so heavy I’m afraid he’s going to fall right through the thin wooden planks. I stare after him, a sick feeling churning in my stomach.

  Something clanks over by the benches. I swing my attention back to Malix as he draws a long length of rusted chain out of a wooden crate. He hefts it in his hands over the sound of Kian’s fading footsteps. Clearly, he’s not the least bit bothered or worried by the way his brother just stalked out.

  I glance up at the ceiling overhead as it creaks beneath Kian’s weight. A moment later, the front door slams shut so hard it almost shakes the entire house.

  Malix crosses to me, the chain dangling from one hand and a few pieces of hardware gripped in the other. He stops a foot away from me, shooting a glance up at the ceiling as he rolls a carabiner in between his thumb and forefinger.

  “He’s fucked up right now,” he says, his full lips pulling to one side in a grimace. “He gets like this sometimes. Nothing to do but let him deal.”

  I snort. “Somehow, I don’t think his method of ‘dealing’ is very healthy.”

  Malix leans in and presses a quick, chaste kiss to my lips. “Kitty, nothing Kian does is healthy. You just gotta let him fall apart. He’ll pull himself back together afterward.”

  As quick as it was, my lips still tingle from his kiss, and for a second, I can almost forget all the bad stuff. I have a wild impulse to grab Malix before he walks away and make him kiss me even more thoroughly. Maybe we could lose ourselves in each other for a while. It certainly worked the last two times.

  But then my gaze drifts to Frost’s unconscious form. No part of me wants to leave his side, not until he wakes up and I’m sure he’s okay. I hit him hard, and clearly, something is wrong inside him. Something to do with the overburdening of shadows Quinton put on him. He’s like a balloon too full of air and on the verge of bursting.

  He needs me. He needs us.

  Obviously, though, Kian is upset too. When a man who doesn’t usually show his emotions appears to suddenly be drowning in them, there’s no way to deny that something is desperately wrong.

  Motioning with my chin toward the stairs Kian went up, I say, “Should I go check on him?”

  Malix shrugs, striding back over to the water heater. “Up to you.”

  “Nobody should have to pull themselves back together without a friend. Not after what we just went through.”

  He drops the chains next to Frost’s splayed legs and squats down to check the pulse in his neck. “You don’t really believe that. How long were you solo, dealing with your own shit, ‘pulling yourself back together’ when things got tough?”

  “Fair point,” I hedge. Still, the thought of Kian out there in the cool early morning feeling some kind of shitty way makes my stomach roll uncomfortably. “Maybe that’s why I care, though. Maybe I’m tired of being alone with my feelings, especially now that I know it’s better to have company.”

  “Kian has never been one for company.”

  “Which is probably why he almost spontaneously combusted trying to revive Frost,” I point out.

  Malix’s deft hands, which have been poking and prodding at Frost’s still form, drop back to his knees, and he glances over at me with a smirk, his white teeth gleaming against his dark skin. “Guess I can’t argue that one.”

  I bit my lip, shifting my gaze to the sleeping man at his side. “How is he?”

  “I think he’s going to be okay,” Malix assures me, then reaches for the chains. “Just a bump on the head. No broken bones that I can see. He’s had worse.”

  Like the poison we both survived.

  And being dead only a couple hours ago.

  The reminder of both of those awful things, and how difficult he’s had it lately, makes me want to forget Kian and go sit by Frost’s side forever. But I can’t forget Kian. I can’t shove him out of my heart no matter how many times I’ve tried, and even though he’s not even in the house anymore, it’s as if I can still feel his pain hovering in the air around us.

  Malix winds the chain around Frost’s wrists, then tosses it over the pipe several feet above his head. Frost leans against the wall, his chin lolling on his chest as his brother secures the chain in place with a clever combination of carabiners and zip ties.

  “You go do what you need to, kitty,” Malix says, as if he’s somehow read my thoughts and can sense the conflict raging in my chest. “I’ll look out for Frost. I’ll make sure he’s safe and as comfortable as he can be. He’ll be okay.”

  My heart clenches uncomfortably as I gaze down at Frost’s sleeping face. He looks so innocent, even with those black shadow marks racing madly over his body. I want to curl up next to him and keep him warm, to hold him until the shadows calm.

  But I can’t do anything for him right now. He’s got Malix to keep him comfortable. All he can do is sleep off the concussion. The moment he
awakes, I’ll be there for him.

  For now, I can be there for Kian.

  “I’ll be back,” I tell Malix and head for the stairs.

  “Be careful,” Malix warns, glancing over his shoulder at me. “He’s not himself when he’s upset.”

  Pausing at the doorway, I smile sadly back at him. “Who is?”

  I make my way through the empty house and out the front door, the screen door slapping loudly behind me as I step onto the deck. The sun is coming up over the plains, illuminating the fields and the few visible houses in the near distance. I hurry off the porch and lift my nose to the air to scent for Kian. The last thing we need is for a nosy neighbor to see people at the abandoned house and to call the cops while we still have an unconscious man chained in the basement.

  Not to mention that, for the moment, we’re still all running around buck ass naked. While that’s not abnormal in the shifter world, the humans have a tendency to be offended.

  I don’t fancy a trip to human jail or having to beat yet more men over the head with a baseball bat.

  Following the faintest hint of Kian’s woodsmoke and whiskey scent, I pass the dilapidated barn that was probably red at one point but now looks more like a muddy brown. I get a whiff of moldy hay and manure that briefly masks Kian’s scent, then circle around the back of the building where it butts up against a small forested area of evergreens.

  I pass into the trees, surprised by how perfectly symmetrical the rows are. A man-made forest, it looks like—maybe meant for a Christmas tree farm? I weave my way through the trees, most of which are much taller than me and have wide, fluffy bodies that obscure my path enough to keep me from being able to see Kian. I follow his scent, which is stronger than the evergreen, and at some point, the sharp, coppery tang of blood joins his unique signature.

  Worry crawls under my skin like a parade of ants. I don’t know if that scent means he’s hurt himself or someone else.

  But I get my answer as soon as I find him.

  He’s standing with his back to me, one hand braced against a scrappy little half-dead evergreen, his head hanging. The knuckles of his other hand are bloody, and I can see remnants of his blood on the tree trunk. There’s more smoke to his unique smell now, and I can’t help but think it’s because of his heightened anger.