Golden Wolf: Wolves Ever After, #5

By Amberlyn Holland

Wyatt is no trespassing Goldilocks. He's an injured wolf-shifter seeking shelter from the storm. 

Wyatt's wolf shifter pack has spent months tracking down and protecting four nearly forgotten mystical relics from the unscrupulous schemes of a dangerous cabal. Now, it's up to Wyatt to find the final matrix before it falls into the wrong hands.

 

Unfortunately, a haunted forest and the three legendary wise women who inhabit it are just as determined to hide their secrets from the rest of the world.

 

For millennia, the Aeghrum Forest, and the powerful Earth Stone it safeguards, have been protected by the Guardian, the Guide, and the Keeper. With the legacy of her mother's unprecedented betrayal casting a long shadow, Kory is uncompromisingly dedicated to her role as the current Guardian.

 

Her determination and rigid loyalty have never wavered. But the wounded stranger she finds asleep on the floor of her cottage could bring disaster into her forest and her life.

 

Can Kory trust Wyatt to help protect the forest and the Earth Stone? More importantly, can she trust her own heart not to lead her down her mother's traitorous path?

 

 

If you're looking for a clean fairy tale fantasy romance featuring wolf-shifters, strong women, adventure, magic and happily-ever-after, don't miss the entire Wolves Ever After series of re-imagined fairy tales.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Amberlyn Holland
• Release date: Mar 27, 2021
• ISBN: 9781393473909

Amberlyn Holland

Amberlyn writes epic fantasy romance and re-imagined fairy tales featuring dragon-shifters, fierce princesses, magic, and happily-ever-afters. She grew up reading her older sister’s SFF collection and her mother’s category romances so it’s only natural her storytelling leans toward magic, romance and adventure. Amberlyn currently lives in Northern New York where her writing schedule, and life, revolve around the whims of her dog. When not catering to a demanding terrier or getting lost in books, she enjoys crafting, watching football and hockey, and hanging out with her husband. If you want to keep up to date on new releases and special events, as well as receive exclusive content like a free digital copy of Kiss the Dragon, sign up for her newsletter at http://www.amberlynholland.com/newsletter/   

Book preview

Chapter One

WYATT desperately wanted to sit down.

To rest.

To curl up on the ground and give in.

But he didn't dare stop moving.

Wyatt's purpose in the Aeghrum Forest was vital and he would not fail. He would keep his promise and fulfill his duty to the pack. Or die trying.

So he continued to drag one foot in front of the other.

Over and over.

Pushing forward against the violent wind and icy pellets. Determined not to let the forest and its strange, haunting magic win.

Around him, thunder rumbled through the trees almost constantly, jolting the earth and shaking the trees dangerously. Lightning crackled in its aftermath, illuminating the driving sleet with an eerie, otherworldly glow.

He wished, not for the first time, that he'd risked bringing some of the magic relics Kyn had offered. The forest, however, was notorious for refusing all but the most depleted power objects within its boundaries.

So he had only himself to depend on as he trudged through the storm.

Wyatt's calf burned with a constant, spreading ache that made every trudging step agony. With his attention so fixated on simply lifting each leg, it took much longer than it should have to recognize what his nose was telling him.

Smoke drifted in a gentle haze beneath the biting scent of cold.

So faint and diluted by the storm, Wyatt would never have noticed if not for the enhanced senses his wolf-shifter gifts granted him.

Despite the pain and cold and desperation, a spark of hope kindled inside him.

Smoke meant fire.

In this weather, it also meant there had to be adequate shelter. Otherwise, the flame would have gone out long before it managed to produce much smoke.

Alongside the hope fluttering in his heart, however, beat a quiet rhythm of unease.

The Aeghrum Forest was infamous for the tricks it played on those who risked breaching its boundaries. Wyatt had already endured the unsettling loss of his sense of direction. He'd found himself walking in circles, disoriented for the first time since he'd become a wolf-shifter.

Along with losing his bearings, Wyatt had stumbled after sounds and scents that didn't exist. He'd spent days of traversing the Aeghrum's trails, chasing phantoms and searching for signs of the particular, powerful magic he'd come in search of.

Only to find himself right back in the clearing where his journey had begun with nothing to show for his efforts.

Refusing to give up, he'd turned around and headed straight back into the trees. Only to stumble into the jaws of the hidden trap.

Now an unseasonable storm had blown up out of nowhere. Unusually intense for so late in the winter. Even in northern Glicien.

So the smoke was possibly another of the forest's tricks.

A trap, luring him toward more dangerous magic.

But Wyatt had no other choices left.

No other hope.

He needed to find shelter and warmth. A place to treat the wound in his calf and rest before he collapsed completely.

As if triggered simply by the thought, Wyatt's leg cramped with the bitter burn of the wolfsbane sluggishly creeping through his blood.

Weakening him with every heartbeat.

The animal trap he'd stumbled into was one hardship Wyatt couldn't blame on the forest or its bizarre enchantments, however.

That had the earmarks of the Keres written all over it. More specifically, the diluted potion of wolfsbane coating the painful spikes was their calling card.

Despite the ache and fire in his veins, it was meant only to weaken, not kill.

Nothing like the last time Wyatt had been attacked with wolfsbane poison. That time, a thick, concentrated, much more potent wolfsbane elixir had coated the knife that sliced into him.

The man who wielded the blade had intended for it to kill.

Unconsciously, Wyatt pressed his hand to the right side of his ribs. Where a gnarled scar was a stark reminder of a time when he'd trusted too easily.

When he'd allowed the desire to control his own fate to distract him. To blind him to the warning signs until it was almost too late.

Shaking with cold, body leaden with exhaustion, eyes blurred by sleet and pain, Wyatt found his thoughts growing sluggish.

Until a narrow, towering cottage, blurry and indistinct behind the driving waves of ice and rain, rose up out of nowhere.

One minute, there was nothing but endless ranks of densely packed trees.

The next, Wyatt stepped between two ancient oaks and there it sat. Like something out of a children's fairy story.

Three stories of wood and stone. Windows glittering with candlelight and welcome. A beacon of warmth and shelter in the midst of the forest's inhospitable setting.

Wyatt blinked the water from his eyes, more certain than ever it was a mirage. A dangerous trap laid out like a welcome mat in the haunted forest.

And he didn't care.

If he could sit down and get warm for five minutes, Wyatt would risk the worst the forest had to throw at him.

Stumbling forward on leaden legs, desperate and determined, Wyatt knocked with a heavy hand.

Shoulder pressed against the door, needing all the support available, he listened hard for movement, senses stretched as far as they would go.

Inside, he heard no sound beyond the crackling of the fire. And the scents his nosed teased out were faint and fading.

Impatient and on edge, he knocked again, louder than before.

And still no sign of activity disturbed the hushed quiet of the cottage.

Exhausted beyond the niceties of hospitality and etiquette, Wyatt curled his fingers around the handle and tugged.

When the doorknob gave easily under his hand, he exhaled with relief. The soft breath loosened the tension that had been straining every muscle in his body for hours.

Entering without invitation was both rude and dangerous, but the warmth of the fire beckoned.

Alert, senses stretched, Wyatt forced himself to move slowly, pushing the door open fully with his foot before stepping inside. If ears and nose could be believed, he was alone in the house.

Though, from the lingering scent, the owner hadn't been gone long.

Caution disappeared beneath his shivering and he rushed for the fireplace. In the balm of its heat, Wyatt sank to his knees on the rug in front of the hearth.

Wyatt ignored the protesting pain of his leg and let the heat wash over him. The flames flicked lazily, mesmerizing him as the ice seeped slowly out of him. And when his eyelids drifted closed, the glow behind them continued to lull Wyatt's tired mind.

When he finally blinked his eyes open again, he realized he'd relaxed much more than he meant to. Somehow, he'd slipped from his knees to his side. He lay curled up on the thin rug, barely cushioning the hardwood floor beneath him.

It made for an unforgiving bed. But Wyatt had slept in worse places.

Wyatt fought to keep his eyes open, but it was a losing battle.

In spite of the danger, Wyatt found himself drifting in a warm, grey haze as his shivering slowed. In the quiet heat, his body gave into injury and exhaustion and icy cold.

Chapter Two

IT was the whispering that first pulled Wyatt up from the depths of unconsciousness.

He tried to follow the conversation, but the words were fast and low and his mind remained dull and sluggish. Weighed down by a body that protested every effort to move and stymied by eyelids that refused to lift.

As Wyatt struggled with awareness, it took longer than it should have to realize he wasn't curled up on the hard, rug-covered floor in front of the hearth anymore.

In fact, he couldn't feel the waves of heat from the flames at all.

Instead, Wyatt was warm and cozy under layers of quilts and blankets.

On a bed.

He had no idea how he got there or why he'd been moved. But he never wanted to leave.

At one time or another, Wyatt had woken up in dozens of unexpected places. From some random farmer's hayloft to indulgent palatial suites, he'd spent nights in squalor and splendor.

But he'd never been more comfortable or content than he was at that moment.

Everything in him wanted to slip back into slumber and forget the world existed for a few more hours.

Ingrained instinct and a lifetime of experience refused to let him ignore the risks of sleeping in an unknown place, surrounded by strangers, however.

Especially injured and weakened by wolfsbane, exposure, and exhaustion.

Most definitely not when the fierce murmurings were quickly escalating into an intense argument.

Exerting every bit of willpower he could gather, Wyatt forced his eyes open to find three women whispering heatedly in the far corner of the room.

Even bleary-eyed and muddled, Wyatt was certain he'd never met any of them. And just as certain these were the wise women of the forest he'd come searching for.

Though he'd expected flowing robes covered in arcane symbols. Or possibly plain, homespun dresses to hide their true nature.

All three women, however, were dressed practically, if unconventionally, in breeches and work shirts.

He twisted his head, trying to get a better look, but even that much movement pushed his limits. A quiet groan of pain escaped his lips before Wyatt could swallow it back.

The debate stopped abruptly, and all three unfamiliar women turned as one to stare at him.

Where am I? Wyatt rasped out after a few seconds of cumbersome silence.

The eldest stepped forward, her silver hair swaying all the way down her back and her storm grey eyes flashing with amusement.

You're in the Aeghrum Forest, of course. I'm Nocomie. This is Alta. She paused and tilted her head toward the dark woman who'd moved closer as well.

Younger than Nocomie but still several years older than Wyatt, her eyes were filled with concern and her soft smile offered warm compassion.

And scowling by the door is Korenna, Nocomie added with a hint of a smirk.

The youngest of the three by far, she was beautiful in a sharp, daunting way. Her dark brown eyes, silky blond curls and pale, Cupid's bow mouth would make her the darling of any royal court.

But her gaze was hard and assessing. And she held herself with strength and readiness that was a warning all its own.

Kory, she corrected, pushing away from the door with an exasperated huff. Then her eyes narrowed and locked on him with sharp suspicion. And who are you?

Wyatt, he answered, throat scratchy with disuse.

The air of the room filled with expectation, but Wyatt pretended not to notice Kory's impatient glare. Or the way she was obviously waiting for him to share more details about himself.

Until he knew more about the women, he needed to be careful how much information he shared. The safety of his brother Zane and the rest of their pack depended on Wyatt succeeding in his mission.

So, instead of indulging her curiosity, Wyatt took a moment to take stock of his surroundings.

The bedroom was sparse and held only the bed Wyatt rested on, a narrow wardrobe in the corner and a dressing table currently covered with bandages and a water pitcher and various healing supplies. A couple of stools, looking as if they'd been dragged in from somewhere else, sat at his bedside.

But several windows allowed the morning sun to fill the room with cheerful light. Paired with the soft, warm blankets and indulgently comfortable mattress, the cozy touches belied the room's utilitarian appearance.

Whoever slept here liked their comforts.

Kory's expression tightened as Wyatt let the quiet linger, but Alta slipped in before the moment reached a boiling point.

How are you feeling? Alta settled on a stool next to the bed, brushing her fingers over his forehead and cheeks.

Unused to touch, or care, Wyatt's first instinct was to pull away. But he was already in a precarious position.

And, despite his discomfort, there was a long-dormant part of Wyatt that liked being an object of concern.

Better than last night, he tried to answer honestly, but the words cracked, and he winced at the raw, jagged way speaking scratched at his throat.

Water? Alta asked gently, then gave Kory a sharp look when he nodded gratefully.

Kory rolled her eyes and huffed again but crossed the room to pour a glass from the jug on the table. Wyatt expected her to pass it off to Alta, but she didn't. Instead, she moved to the side of the bed across from Alta. Together, the two women wrestled him into a seated position, and Kory held the water to his lips so he could sip at the soothing liquid.

When he had enough, Wyatt settled against the pillows and asked, How did I get here?

Don't you remember? Kory asked flatly, clearly doubting his confusion.

Kory, Alta chastised before turning to Wyatt with a gentler tone. "Take a minute to get your bearings. What do you remember about last night?"

Wyatt considered feigning forgetfulness.

Despite Alta's compassion, though, she exuded her own kind of stark strength that made it clear she was no pushover. Kory was clearly distrustful and wary. And Nocomie leaned against the doorjamb, watching with shrewd, silent attention. Making Wyatt feel as if she'd already read every secret he had.

And while that was a ridiculous and impossible flight of fancy, he still knew offering a version of the truth would serve him well.

I came to the Aeghrum Forest as a seeker. There are stories of wise women, who help the lost find purpose and peace and heal those in need.

Then, with shrewd certainty, Wyatt asked, You are the wise women, aren't you? 

Kory glowered, Alta looked nonplussed, but Nocomie laughed lightly. We've been called many things. We are herbalists and naturalists who love the solitude of the forest. And occasionally share our secrets with those who come seeking. Are you looking for a purpose, then? Or healing?

Wyatt nearly blurted out both. But his dark secrets, his regret and his pain, had nothing to do with why he'd sought them out. So instead of giving voice to the brutally honest answer, he stuck with the story he'd planned from the beginning.

Truthfully, I didn't really believe the tales. I came to the forest searching for peace and solitude. Hoping to find a little clarity in my heart and mind.

Despite the obscuring of his true purpose, Wyatt found his reply ringing truer than he expected. For too long, he'd lied even to himself about how much he longed for a quieter, simpler life.

But that had never been the fate intended for him. And there was no reason, or time, to dwell on that now.

Pushing the distractingly melancholy thoughts away, Wyatt plunged into the story of his disastrous adventures in Aeghrum Forest.

"From the moment I entered the forest, I became disoriented and confused. Trails twisted back on themselves until I