Desperate for Her Wolves Read online

  Desperate for Her Wolves

  Hungry for Her Wolves, Book Three

  A Reverse-Harem Paranormal Romance

  Tara West

  Copyright © 2018 by Tara West

  Published by Shifting Sands Publishing

  First edition, published December, 2018

  All rights reserved.

  This book is protected under the copyright laws of the United States of America. Any reproduction or other unauthorized use of the material or artwork herein is prohibited.

  This is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents and dialogue are products of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real.

  Edited by Theo Fenraven.

  Artwork by Becky Frank.

  Model photography by Dean Samed of Neostock.

  Table of Contents

  Copyright Page

  Desperate for Her Wolves

  Dedications

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Epilogue

  Divine and Dateless | Eternally Yours, Book One

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Books by Tara West

  About Tara West

  The threads of Amara’s happy life are quickly unraveling as external forces threaten to tear her family apart. Branded as a killer, a lone wolf’s fateful decision severs the truce between the Amaroki and the government. Trapped on the reservation, Amara and her mates struggle to find a way out to capture the lone wolf and save the one man who can heal the rift between wolfkind and mankind. But they are running out of time. A power-hungry federal agent and a blood-thirsty mob are closing in on Amara’s family. She must figure out how to stop them before the conflict escalates into a full-scale war.

  Dedications

  To Ginelle, for always saving my ass with your fabulous beta reads.

  Thanks to Shéa and Sheri for catching all of those extra oopsies.

  Becky, I owe a lot of my sales to your amazing artistry. Thank you!

  To Theo, for the drudgery of deciphering my mess. What would I do without your thorough edits?

  To my awesome fan club and readers! Thank you so much for downloading and reviewing my books!

  Chapter One

  While sirens blared, Hakon raced down the metal stairs, fanning scorching fumes as he hollered for his crew to evacuate.

  He found driller Kevin Mitchell, whose chest heaved while oil dripped from his face and extremities.

  “Is everyone out?” Hakon hollered above the din of gushing oil and rattling pipes.

  Kevin flung black sludge from his mouth. “I didn’t see Henry.”

  Hakon pushed Kevin toward the stairs. “Go! I’ll find him.”

  Covering his mouth with a rag, Hakon struggled to breathe as the overpowering fumes singed his lungs. He found Henry clinging to the shut-off valve, like a sea captain struggling to keep his ship afloat.

  “It’s jammed!” Henry screamed, banging his fists against the wheel. “I can’t turn it off!”

  Hakon joined him, and they grunted and groaned over the valve. Why was it so hard to turn?

  An explosion rocked the ground. Henry screamed, and Hakon looked up to see a fiery inferno racing down the tunnel toward them.

  Without a second thought, Hakon shifted into protector form, hovering over Henry while turning the stubborn wheel until it snapped and spun, closing off the pipe. He snatched the screaming human up in his arms and raced down the hall, fire snapping at his heels and singing the hair off his backside. He jumped from one platform to the next, swinging like an ape with Henry under his arm, until they were several yards above the flames.

  He laid Henry on a metal grate, then wiped sweat from his furry brow. Great Ancients, he’d exposed himself to a mortal. Worse, there were security cameras all over the facility. But what other choice had he had? The platform groaned and rocked beneath them. Hakon was too heavy. He looked down at the fire below and then over at the men in the control booth, gaping at Hakon as if they were in a waking nightmare. Draping Henry across his shoulder, he swung onto the bridge and laid him by the steel door to the control room, pounding on the door for them to let him in and accidentally making a huge dent in the center. They wouldn’t open the door with him outside. He jumped onto a nearby platform, relieved when the door opened and they dragged Henry inside.

  He stumbled back when another explosion rocked the rig. A wave of shrapnel flew at him, the chunks of steel embedding in his fur and knocking sight out of one eye. He let out a roar as pain lanced through him, and then he stumbled again when the metal grate beneath him gave way. He fell on the platform below with a sickening crunch, the scorching metal burning his fur and branding his flesh. The platform buckled, and he crawled toward the exit, praying to the Ancients to help him escape. He choked on smoke and fumes.

  His skin burned and his head ached, but he had to make it out, or he would never see his mate and child again.

  AMARA LAID ON THE BEARSKIN rug in front of the cold stone hearth, dangling bright plastic toy keys. “Can you reach them?”

  Hrod was on his tummy, kicking his legs, his cheeks flushed crimson. He let out an angry wail. He had the temper of an alpha, which was cute—for now. Amara and Rone had been trying to teach Hrod how to crawl the past few days. Each time he got his knees up, he’d get mad at himself and pound the carpet with chubby fists.

  Rone rested one hand on Amara’s lower back and patted the floor with the other. “You can do it!”

  Hrod’s silver-blue eyes lit up at Rone’s encouragement, and he scooted back onto his knees, jutting forward and straining for the keys.

  She was tempted to give them to him when he wailed again. She hated watching him suffer.

  Rone’s hand on her wrist stopped her. He patted the floor. “You got it! Come on, Hrod!”

  The baby scrunched his tanned forehead in determination and scooted up again, lurching for the keys. He snatched them out of Amara’s hand and then rolled over, gnawing on the knobby ends with satisfied grunts.

  Rone hovered over him, his shaggy, sandy-brown hair hanging in his eyes, and tickled Hrod’s tummy. “What a smart boy you are! You’ll be crawling in no time.”

  Amara’s heart swelled with love. Rone was such a good father. She was lucky to have him as her gamma. She sat up and pulled Hrod into her lap, brushing his dark hair out of his eyes and planting a big kiss on his smooth cheek. “How I wish your bunics could be here to see their sweet grandson.” She longed for Hrod’s birth father, her alpha mate, Hakon, and her brave beta, Luc, too. But Hakon was working in the oil fields, bringing home big paychecks for the family, and Luc was off in North Korea again, defending his country on a secret mission for the Army.

  She leaned into Rone when he wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

  “Only a few more days,” he said, kissing her cheek and nuzzling her ear. “And then your family will be here.”

  Amara could hardly wait, espec
ially since her fathers were bringing her bunica, which was Romanian for grandmother, as well as her bunic Anton. She’d wanted all her grandfathers to come, but Bunic Klaus was the Romanian chieftain now, and he couldn’t leave his tribe.

  She turned into Rone, eliciting a low growl from him when she nibbled on his lower lip. “Have I told you lately how much I appreciate you?”

  “How about you show me?” His cheeks flushed, and he grabbed her hand, settling it on a very stiff erection.

  “After Hrod goes down for his nap,” she promised, kissing him once more and then scooting away before they got themselves in trouble.

  When Hrod reached for her breast, she sat on the sofa, letting him nurse.

  Rone crawled up to her, whimpering and puckering his lips.

  Laughing, she pushed him back. “I’ve already told you this milk isn’t for you.”

  Rone got to his knees with a snort. “We’ll see about that.”

  Hrod greedily drank from each breast, cooing and milk-drunk, lazily smiling up at her. At the sound of the downstairs door opening, Amara’s small dogs jumped from their cozy bed by the fireplace, barking a few times before settling back down in their nest of blankets. Amara’s heart soared when Drasko’s laughter echoed from below. Her handsome second alpha spent almost every morning fishing, chopping firewood, or repairing things around the house until around noon, when he came in for lunch. After lunch, if Hrod was still sleeping and they were feeling frisky, Drasko and Rone would savor Amara’s breasts for dessert and then bend her over the sofa for a round of intense fucking. Sex was even better when Hakon and Luc were home, taking turns with their brothers and leaving her thoroughly sated and spent. How she loved her life. To think it had been a year ago when she’d tried to fight bonding with her four virile shifter mates.

  Drasko came up the stairs with a cooler of fish. “Anybody hungry?”

  Amara’s eyes widened when he opened it, revealing two large gape-mouthed fish. “Always.”

  Drasko handed them to Rone to fillet and then scooped Hrod from Amara’s arms, throwing the baby into the air.

  “Careful,” she admonished. “He just ate.”

  Drasko nuzzled Hrod’s neck, his low growl intensifying and making the baby squeal with excitement. The baby got louder when Drasko tossed him in the air again.

  Tatiana came up the stairs, wiping her hands on a towel. Marching up to Drasko, she held out her arms. “Let me have my nephew before you make him throw up his lunch,” she scolded.

  Amara turned at a knock on the front door, her nostrils flaring as she recognized the familiar scent of Skoll, her second alpha father-in-law. He pushed open the front door, popping his head in. “You ready, Tatiana?”

  “Awww,” she whined, nuzzling Hrod. “We haven’t had time to play.”

  Hrod let out an ear-piercing wail. Tatiana’s eyes bulged as she held the baby at arm’s length. “What’s wrong with him?”

  Amara jumped up, reaching for him. “I don’t know. He never cries like this.”

  Hrod squirmed from Tatiana’s arms and into Amara’s. She expected he was still hungry, but instead of reaching for her shirt, he grasped her hair, clutching hard and letting out a cry so pitiful, Amara’s heart broke.

  “What is it, baby?” She knelt on the floor and tried to pull him from her head to no avail.

  Rone pried him off Amara and quickly undressed him, checking for signs of injury. “I don’t know what’s wrong.” His voice cracked, and his hands shook.

  Panic gripped Amara. She closed her eyes, sending a silent prayer to the Ancients. Please, help our baby.

  He sees something, a familiar voice echoed in Amara’s head.

  Her eyes flew open. She looked to Rone. “He’s having a vision.”

  Everyone crowded around her, frowning at the baby.

  “What kind of vision?” Skoll asked.

  Drasko’s pocket buzzed. He pulled out his phone. “It’s Johnson.”

  Amara’s heart caught in her throat. Johnson never called Drasko. Had something happened to Luc? Was that why Hrod was upset?

  Drasko tapped the screen and turned away, his shoulders going rigid. As if on cue, Hrod’s screams died down, but his chest still rose and fell erratically as he sucked his thumb with a whimper. She picked him up, holding him close and kissing his wet face.

  She knew without a doubt Hrod had been trying to tell them something.

  When Drasko turned back, her stomach soured at the desperate look in his eyes.

  “There’s been a gas explosion,” he said through a clenched jaw. “Hakon is injured.”

  “How bad?” Skoll asked.

  Drasko grimaced. “Bad.”

  She shot to her feet. “Take me to him.” Whatever “bad” meant didn’t matter, as long as she got to her mate in time.

  Amara could barely hear above the sound of her pounding heart as they ran around the house, shoving diapers and bottles into the diaper bag and packing extra jackets and clothes. She filled the dog dishes before they piled into their trucks and tore off down the road. Closing her eyes, she gripped the door handle, praying to her namesake. “Please, Goddess, keep him alive for me.”

  THE TRIBAL PLANES WERE in use, so they had to drive the entire trip. She kept checking Hrod, who was silent and stoic. She hoped this was a good sign, and if Hakon was close to death, Hrod would have warned them.

  After an agonizing five-hour drive to the outskirts of Anchorage, Amara was surprised when Drasko pulled into a familiar parking lot. Her old vet clinic? Why had they brought Hakon here? Then she realized he must have been injured in animal form.

  The place was swarming in black vehicles with tinted windows and agents with dark sunglasses. Two burly agents guarded the front door to the rundown building with the low roof and warped shingles. Her old boss, Dr. Tanner, paced the gravel parking lot, his lip hanging in a boyish pout, his cheeks bright-apple red. She’d seen this “Angry Tanner” look too many times to count. He wore that scowl as often as she donned her favorite bra. What had all the vet techs seen in him?

  As soon as Drasko put the truck in park, Amara was out the door. A blast of warm summer air, carrying the strong scent of her mate’s blood, hit her like a brick. She had to get to Hakon. Every second wasted could be the moment he took his last breath. Ignoring Drasko when he called to her, she ran across the lot, kicking up gravel behind her.

  “Amara?” Tanner spun toward her, throwing up his hands. “What are you doing here?”

  “How is he?” she demanded, clenching her hands and ignoring the temptation to slap the indignant look off his face.

  He scratched his messy blond hair. “The bear?”

  She dug her nails into her palms. “Yes.” The feds had obviously done a good job of covering Hakon’s hairy tracks.

  “I have no idea.” Tanner thumbed behind him. “I doubt they’ll let you in. They won’t even let me in, and it’s my clinic.” He shook a fist at the two feds guarding the door.

  The front door opened, and Agent Johnson waved at her. “Bring her in.” Johnson turned away, coughing into his fist.

  “Hang on a minute.” Tanner made a bunch of sputtering, indignant noises. “She’s just a damn lab tech. I’m the doctor.”

  Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Tanner fly back with a squeal.

  “Back off,” Drasko snapped, gripping Tanner by the back of his lab coat.

  “Y-You!” Tanner pointed a finger at Drasko, then cowered when Amara’s second alpha balled his hands.

  Drasko grabbed Amara’s elbow, clutching a little too hard, and led her to the front door.

  “Loosen up,” she hissed, shaking him off. She glanced behind her to see Rone, Skoll, and Tatiana following with Hrod’s carrier.

  “What happened?” Drasko asked Johnson as they walked through the door.

  “There was an explosion in the field.” Johnson grimaced. “Hakon saved several workers before a second explosion knocked him unconscious.”

  Amara swallo
wed bitter bile, clutching her gut. It was so like Hakon to risk his life for others.

  Drasko dragged a hand down his face. “So he shifted in front of them?”

  Johnson’s expression was unreadable. “Yes.”

  “Fuck,” Drasko ground out.

  She didn’t give two fucks if Hakon had been seen. All she cared about was that he lived.

  “I’ve got agents cleaning up the mess,” Johnson said. “The video has already been destroyed.”

  “And the witnesses?” Drasko rumbled.

  Johnson’s laughter sounded forced. “Too scared to talk. He was still a protector when agents found him. He has burns over most of his body and swelling on his brain.”

  Amara clutched her throat, her knees shaking so badly, she swayed into Drasko.

  Her second alpha wrapped a possessive arm around her waist, but even as he steadied her, she felt tremors beneath his skin and knew he was frightened, too.

  Hrod cried out. Amara ignored the tightening in her breasts when they leaked into her padded bra. She didn’t have time to feed her baby. Rone pulled him from his carrier, rocking him while feeding him a bottle.

  She was barely aware of Johnson leading her to the back room, where she and Dr. Tanner had prepared for surgery. Hakon’s scent was stronger here, which meant he was in the adjoining operating room that was equipped for large animals, such as horses and bears. Was he in surgery already? Had they operated on him before waiting for her? She stripped out of her light summer jacket and rolled up her sleeves.

  “We had to bring him to a veterinary hospital,” Johnson said, “one that could accommodate his size.”

  “Dr. Tanner thinks you brought in a bear,” Drasko said.

  Amara slipped surgical scrubs over her clothes.

  “And that’s what he will continue to think,” Johnson remarked. “We brought in our own surgeon.”

  She looked over her shoulder at Johnson, surprised by the warmth in his voice. Usually the man was all business. Something told her Johnson shared a personal connection with the surgeon.

  Drasko folded his arms, scowling. “Is he any good?”