Longing for Her Wolves: A Reverse Harem Paranormal Romance (Hungry for Her Wolves Book 2) Read online

  Table of Contents

  Longing for Her Wolves | Hungry for Her Wolves, Book Two | A Reverse-Harem Paranormal Romance | Tara West

  The Amaroki Packs

  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

  Divine and Dateless | Eternally Yours, Book One

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Books by Tara West

  Longing for Her Wolves

  Hungry for Her Wolves, Book Two

  A Reverse-Harem Paranormal Romance

  Tara West

  Copyright © 2018 by Tara West

  Published by Shifting Sands Publishing

  First edition, published October, 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.

  THRUST INTO A NEW SHIFTER world without enough time to adjust, Amara made one hasty mistake that could cost her mates their position in the tribe or break their happy family apart forever. But those struggles are eclipsed when demonic wolves threaten to take everything from Amara’s family. She must fight to heal the rift she caused before it’s too late.

  The Amaroki Packs

  Dedications

  To Ashley, Ginelle, Sheri, and Suanne. I couldn’t ask for better betas. Thank you!

  To Theo, blessed by the Ancients with your magical red pen of shame. Thanks for whipping my book into shape.

  To my husband, my Alpha, Beta, and Gamma all rolled into one. Your continued support means everything.

  Chapter One

  Amara ignored Drasko’s grumbling when he parked the truck in the shade of a tall pine. He coursed a hand down his tanned face, his eyes shifting from brown to yellow and back again. He’d just taken a shower, and his thick, tattooed muscles still gleamed with moisture. His long black hair dripped water down his back.

  Fuck, he was gorgeous. She crossed one leg over the other, resisting the urge to climb on top of her virile mate and ride him like a bucking bronco. If only they were at home in bed and not parked in front of another pack’s cabin.

  No sooner had she started to help Rone with dinner than the phone rang. Drasko had insisted no house calls after dinner, but since it technically wasn’t mealtime yet, she’d sweet-talked him into driving her to check on the Stormwatcher Pack’s sick calf.

  The Stormwatchers piled outside on the wraparound front porch as Drasko helped Amara out of the truck. She felt a stab of jealousy when she saw that three of the four Stormwatcher men were there with their mate. She only had two mates at home at the moment. Luc, her beta tracker, was still on a secret mission for the Army, and Hakon, her alpha, was working in the oil fields.

  Like her mates, the Stormwatchers had dark hair and eyes, tanned skin, and high cheekbones, looking very much like Alaskan Natives. She instantly recognized the large protector, a stony look making his expression unreadable; the smaller, leaner tracker, whose nostrils flared as he took in their scent; and the gamma, who, like her sweet Rone, wore a food-stained apron. He was also balancing a toddler in his arms while their mate, a pretty brunette, carried a babe at her breast. Amara smiled at the woman as she inhaled her familiar scent. Odd, because she’d never met her before.

  She grabbed Drasko’s hand, doing her best to ignore his scowl as she led him up the steps.

  Amara smelled the strong odor of whiskey. She noted how the Stormwatcher males all had foggy eyes. It was clear they’d been drinking.

  When the largest Stormwatcher stepped forward, Amara knew him to be the second alpha because he had thin frown lines framing his mouth. He looked to be in his early thirties, probably no more than five years older than Drasko, and about an inch shorter.

  “Drasko,” he said and held out a hand.

  Drasko shook the second alpha’s hand, his steely gaze never leaving the man’s face. “Amara, this is Ranko Stormwatcher.” He released the man’s hand and nodded to the others. “Plus his mate and brothers.”

  It was odd that Drasko didn’t name them. Did he not know their names, or did he not care? She smiled weakly at them, noting she received barely a nod of recognition from Ranko.

  The slightest of smiles cracked Ranko’s stony features as he looked her over, like he was assessing her value. “Amara, named for our goddess.”

  She wasn’t sure, but she thought she heard bitterness.

  Drasko pulled back his shoulders, flashing Ranko a cross between a smile and a snarl. “We were just about to eat dinner.”

  “We won’t keep you long.” Ranko waved at a pen in the distance flanked by a few tall pines and overlooking a verdant field. About a dozen cattle milled within. “We need to know if it’s something serious. If it is, we’ll take Baby Belle to the vet.”

  The mama cow in the corner made sad bleating sounds while hovering over her sick calf. Amara had the overwhelming urge to run to the calf and lay her hands on him. She’d taken only a few steps when someone grabbed her arm. She turned, looking into a familiar pair of ice blue eyes.

  “I’m Daniella.” The young mother handed her baby to the wiry beta. “I’ve been dying to meet the girl favored by the Ancients,” she said in a familiar Romanian accent before taking Amara’s hand. “Won’t you come inside for a drink?”

  She grimaced when she heard Drasko’s low growls. Make it quick. I’m hungry. Though they’d been mated for about a month, it was still a shock every time her mates projected their thoughts into her mind.

  She refrained from rolling her eyes. Patience.

  “Actually,” she said to Daniella, repressing a grimace, “we need to get back. Could you take me to your calf?”

  Daniella’s eyes hardened. “Sure.” She left her two babies with the youngest mates and marched down the steps with a rigid spine.

  Had Amara offended her? Usually she accepted food and drink from Amaroki when she visited their homes, but that was during the day, when Drasko was in a better mood.

  “How long has your calf been sick?” she asked, struggling to keep up with Daniella’s brisk pace.

  “I don’t know,” Daniella grumbled. “A few days.”

  Yes, Amara had definitely pissed her off. Oh, well. She’d have to get over it. Daniella should’ve been grateful Amara had come at all.

  When they walked into the pen and weaved their way through the cattle, Amara was hit with the nauseating stench of sickness that rose above the pungent odor of manure. She looked over her shoulder to see Drasko
and Ranko not far behind. She was somewhat relieved her protector was shadowing her. The mama cow became increasingly agitated as they approached. Drasko and Ranko surged ahead and pushed the distraught mama away with low growls and threatening looks, giving her access to the calf.

  The poor creature was lying on his side, his chest heaving while he struggled for breath. Why had they called Amara out when they should have taken him to a vet? Anyone with half a brain could see the gash on his leg had become infected. She laid a hand on the calf’s head, listening to the animal’s thoughts in his primitive language. The sickness had spread and was consuming his entire body, making him dizzy with fever.

  “He’s got an infection.” She stood, dusting grime off her jeans, her nose wrinkling as the stench became almost unbearable. Why had the Stormwatchers let this calf’s sickness progress? “He needs antibiotics immediately.”

  “We can take him to the vet in the morning,” Daniella said. “My alphas have had too much to drink tonight. He’s not fit to drive.”

  She shook her head, knowing the calf wouldn’t survive the night. “Can’t you or one of your other mates drive?”

  “No.” Daniella shrugged, her face a mask of indifference. “My alphas are the only ones who drive.”

  Amaroki women were coddled to the point where they were practically helpless. Daniella should have learned how to drive, if for no other reason than to prove she wasn’t just a wolf-breeding machine. Even though Amara had had a somewhat rough upbringing after being passed around in human foster care, she’d learned to be independent, which was more than she could say for most females of her kind.

  “His health is declining rapidly.” She frowned at the poor beast. “His heartrate is slowing.”

  “He’s lasted a few days already.” Daniella scowled at the animal before Ranko ushered her out of the pen. “One more night won’t kill him.” Ranko bolted the gate behind them.

  Amara repressed a growl as she stared helplessly at the calf and his distraught mother. These wolves didn’t deserve animals if they couldn’t take care of them.

  She was stunned when Daniella looped arms with her, leaning into her like they were old friends and leading her toward the porch. Daniella’s beta and gamma mates had gone in the house with the children, and Drasko and Ranko hung back by the truck, leaving her alone with the female shifter. She didn’t think she’d enjoy Daniella’s company and hoped Drasko insisted they leave soon.

  “I heard my cousins tried to take you, too,” Daniella whispered.

  She nearly stumbled over a rock. “Your cousins?”

  “Da,” she said, her Romanian accent getting thicker. “The Devoras, my second cousins. They’re my great-aunt’s sons.”

  Ugh. Amara had hoped she could put memories of those sick wolves out of her mind. After the Devoras lost their mate and head alpha to Romanian hunters, the three remaining wolves had tried and failed many times to replace their mate by stealing unmated virgins from their homes. Because the chieftain of the Romanian tribe was their uncle, they’d never been punished for their attempts. Then those deranged wolves burned down her fathers’ house, drove through her grandparent’s home, and kidnapped her. If Amara’s true mates hadn’t shown up in time, she would’ve been mated to the Devoras, their blood bond sealed by her stolen virginity. She repressed a shudder, dark memories crawling across her skin like spiders.

  She remembered where she’d heard of the Stormwatcher Pack before. Her mates’ sister had told her that the Devoras had tried the same thing with Daniella a few years earlier. She’d no idea that the deranged pack were Daniella’s cousins.

  She nodded and walked up the porch steps with Daniella. “They tried to steal you, too, didn’t they?”

  Daniella tossed her head, laughing. “Tried and failed.”

  She had no idea why Daniella thought it was funny. “I knew they were into rape. I didn’t know they were into incest, too.”

  “They’re into any virgin with a heartbeat.” Daniella flopped on a bench and patted the space beside her. “Luckily my family was too smart to fall for their tricks.”

  Amara flinched, her spine going rigid just as she was about to sit beside Daniella. “Oh, well, good for them.” It was no slip of the tongue, the way Daniella insulted her family.

  Her gaze shot to Drasko, who stood by his truck, talking to Ranko. When Drasko gave her an expectant look, she knew he was ready to leave, which was fine with her. “I need to get going.” She glanced at the pen. “I don’t think your calf will make it through the night.”

  “Then I guess we’ll be eating veal for breakfast.” Daniella flashed a spiteful smile. “It’s not that your family is stupid, but my grandfathers are the chieftains for a reason. They are the most cunning in their tribe.”

  Amara knew where this was going. After their ancient gods had visited the Romanian tribe, the giant black wolf Amarok said Amara’s grandfather would make a better chieftain. The Stormwatchers hadn’t invited her here to examine a calf they clearly didn’t care about. They’d brought her here to issue a challenge to her family.

  She snarled at the female shifter. “And yet your grandfathers continue to foolishly allow their nephews to try to steal virgins from their mates. If you’re not going to treat that calf, someone needs to put him out of his misery.” She clenched her hands, repressing the urge to smack that smug smile off Daniella’s face. “He’s in pain.”

  Daniella stood, crossing her arms. “I’m sure my mates will handle it. I know we’re supposed to pay you,” she hissed, eyes narrowing. “But we already gave you a lake.”

  “What?” She looked at Daniella as if she’d grown a second head. When Daniella didn’t answer, she tossed a blonde braid over her shoulder. “We need to get home. Thanks for wasting our time.” She thought about warning the Stormwatchers not to eat infected meat, but they couldn’t be that stupid.

  She stormed up to Drasko’s truck and yanked open the door with a grunt. “Let’s go!” she snapped, knowing her second alpha wouldn’t be pleased with her tone but too pissed off to care.

  What’s the matter? he projected into her head as he got in and turned the ignition.

  “Daniella Stormwatcher is a fucking bitch,” she said out loud as Drasko backed out of the gravel drive, not caring who heard her. They don’t care about their calf, she projected. She’s looking to start trouble with my family.

  Ha! Drasko’s eyes shifted from dark brown to feral yellow. She’s fucking with the wrong pack.

  I don’t think she cares.

  The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end as she remembered that smug look in Daniella’s eyes. Her gut twisted when she realized this confrontation with Daniella was the start of something bigger.

  DRASKO’S EYES WERE hard as he focused on the winding road leading to their home on the lake. The tension radiating off him made for an uncomfortable drive. This was the first house call that hadn’t gone well. All the others had ended with their shifter neighbors graciously giving Amara and Drasko smoked meats, DVD collections, camping gear, and even cash. She didn’t have a set rate for her services, telling them to pay what they could afford, which made them even more grateful. The Stormwatchers hadn’t offered them shit. Not that she wanted anything from them.

  Ever since she’d moved in with her mates—four impossibly tempting wolf-shifter brothers—a little over a month ago, her business of treating sick animals on their Alaska reservation had taken off. As the first shifter in four generations to have the ability to diagnose animals by laying hands on them, she refused to let her gift go to waste. Her mates had given her a hard time at first, as Amaroki culture was old-fashioned when it came to women working, but they eventually relented. Amara could be very persuasive, but maybe this time she’d pushed Drasko too far by insisting they check on the sick calf.

  She chewed her bottom lip, warily eyeing her mate. Are you angry with me?

  No. He gave her a stony look as he pulled into the gravel drive leading to their three-stor
y cabin. I’m pissed at the Stormwatchers.

  Me, too. She frowned at her hands, which were fisted in her lap. That poor calf. Sorry for wasting our time.

  “Not your fault.” He parked, flashing a wolfish grin while taking her hand. “But you owe me one later,” he said on a low rumble, placing delicate kisses across her palm.

  A line of fire raced straight to her lady parts, liquefying her from the inside out. Her big alpha sure know how to turn her on. She sighed when he let her go.

  “Come on.” He opened the door, nostrils flaring. “I’m hungry.”

  She was hungry, too, but not for food. Damn Drasko for soaking her panties.

  Amara’s mood significantly improved when the divine smell of smoked meat hit her as soon as she got out of the truck. Her three doggies raced from the house, jumping around her legs. When she scooped her two little ones into her arms, they showered her with kisses. She set them down, laughing while they ran around her legs again. She bent over Buster, letting him plant a sloppy kiss on her cheek.

  Her dogs had acclimated so well to their new home that she no longer worried about the lack of fencing. They rarely strayed too far from her line of sight. If they did try to go off on their own, Rone’s built-in radar sensed when they pushed the boundaries, and he would call them back. She was so grateful to have him as her gamma. He’d make an excellent father someday. She often wondered when that would be. Bunica, her Romanian grandmother, had said she’d know when it was time to get pregnant, because she’d open like a flower. Whatever that meant.

  She watched their tails spinning as they ran off again, on the hunt for their sworn enemies, no doubt, the ever-elusive evil squirrels.

  Rone was on the back deck, turning ribs on the grill and looking as cute as ever, with a lock of sandy brown hair hanging in his big brown eyes and an infectious grin revealing two impossibly sexy dimples.

  “How’d it go?” he asked.