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Wolf of Sight

Quinn Loftis




  Wolf of Sight

  Book 5 of the Gypsy Healer Series

  By

  Quinn Loftis

  Published by

  Quinn Loftis Books, LLC

  Little Rock, Arkansas

  © 2019 Quinn Loftis Books LLC

  United States of America

  1st Edition

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher

  This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This book (whether in electronic or physical form) may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please loan it through the appropriate channels or purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return it, and purchase your own copy. Copyright infringement is a serious crime punishable by law. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  Quinn Loftis Books, LLC

  PO Box 1308

  Benton, AR 72018

  [email protected]

  Photography and Cover Design: KKeeton Designs

  Dedication

  For Bo. Because you put up with me and no one else would.

  Prologue

  “I have always thought the ability to see was overrated. I have met too many nasty people in this world. If they are that ugly in spirit, I cannot imagine what their physical appearance must be like.”

  ~Heather

  Fifteen years ago …

  “Mama, what’s it like to see?” Five-year-old Heather Banks asked as she and her mother sat on the front porch swing. It was late November, and autumn had finally decided to make an appearance in the small town of Shady Grove, Texas. A slight breeze rustled the leaves covering their front yard. Heather could smell the crisp scent of the pine trees that stubbornly held on to their needles. The girl only knew it was the pine she was smelling because her daddy had, on several occasions, walked her around the whole of their property. Heather would touch and smell the different plants and trees so she could learn about them in a way she would understand. Her father often told her she shouldn’t view her blindness as missing sight, but regard it as an opportunity to “see” the world in a way that those with sight never would.

  “Some days, sight is wonderful,” her mama said. “There are many fantastic things to see: vibrant colors, interesting animals, stunning lightning, freshly fallen snow, or the smile on a child's face. These are all amazing things to witness. However, there are days when sight is a curse. There are many things I wish I couldn’t see. The hateful look of a person whose heart is full of malcontent, the daily pictures of bloodshed and violence on the evening news, the aftermath of a natural disaster, or watching a loved one waste away from an illness that has no cure. I suppose it is a blessing and a curse, just like our other senses.”

  “I wish I could see,” Heather said. She rarely voiced this feeling. The girl didn’t want to disappoint her parents and, somehow, even at that tender age, she knew it did. But every now and then, her heart would grow sad because she knew she was missing out on wonderful things.

  “I know you do, honey,” her mom said gently. “And I don’t judge you for that. Don’t ever be afraid to express your true feelings. Keeping them all bottled up inside stops you from dealing with your emotions in a healthy way. They become infected, like an unclean wound. You will grow bitter because of your disappointment. Before you know it, life has passed you by, and you’ve missed incredible blessings because you were too busy crying over things you can’t change.”

  “Daddy says I am blessed because I can see the world the way others can’t.”

  “That is true. Your daddy has always had the ability to find the good in circumstances that often seem only bad. Tell me this, little Tumbleweed, what do you hear right now?”

  Heather focused on her surroundings and let her ears take in the sounds. “I hear the wind … and the sound of something scampering on the ground. I hear five, no, six different types of birds. I hear the hum of the air conditioner, the tumbling of the dryer, and the clinking of the ice in your glass as it melts.”

  Her mama chuckled. “I hear very little of that. I hear the birds, but not all the different ones, and I hear the wind. But my ears are easily distracted by my sight, so I miss out on the other things. I know the strength of your other senses might be a poor consolation prize for your lack of sight, but don’t miss out on what having those acute senses offer you that others will never experience.”

  Later that night, Heather lay in her bed. Her parents were asleep, and she could hear the soft snores of her father. The house creaked and groaned in its usual fashion, as if it, too, was getting settled in for good night’s rest. But as the world around Heather quieted, the little girl couldn’t sleep.

  The words from her conversation with her mama repeated in her mind. Heather knew she didn’t want to live her life missing out on things because she was too busy wishing she wasn’t blind. After all, Heather was actually five and a half, which was nearly six. She’d be in double digits before she knew it.

  “Don’t go wasting the opportunities the good Lord gave you, Heather Banks,” she whispered to herself. It was something one of the old ladies in her church had said to her recently. Heather hadn’t known what it meant at the time, but now, she thought maybe she did.

  She took a deep breath noting the familiar smells of her home. The leftover scent of the cinnamon candles her mama liked to burn, the pipe her father smoked every evening after dinner, and the dryer sheets from the freshly laundered towels that filled her bathroom cabinets. These were scents that would forever be burned into her mind and would always fill her with warmth and joy. She smiled as she heard one of the dogs outside howl, causing the neighbor’s dog down the road to answer. She heard the rustle of the willow tree that grew just outside her window and the hoot of an owl. It was as if the world around her was telling her good night because it knew she alone would hear them.

  It was then and there, sitting on her bed at five and a half years old, but really nearly six, that Heather Banks made a decision. She wouldn’t miss a single thing in life. She would wake up thankful to be a part of the world, knowing God made her for a reason. Therefore, she needed to get on living so she could find out what that reason was.

  Finally, at peace with herself, she scooted underneath the blankets. The warm flannel sheets felt good against her chilled skin as she snuggled herself down. Heather fell asleep with a smile on her face as she realized she was excited about her future or, as her daddy called it, the adventure that was life. Hers would be a grand adventure because she would make it so. She would find the joy in every minute and hold tight to it like she did her tire swing rope as it flew her through the air. She would smile and laugh and joke and laugh some more. There would be no room for bitterness or disappointment. “Good night, world,” she whispered and she swore she could hear the whisper of a woman’s voice answer back, “Good night, little healer.”

  Chapter 1

  “Damn these wolves. They just don’t know what it’s like. Their mates are of age. They can perform the Blood Rites whenever they want. They don’t have to feel like some sort of weirdo creeper every time they lay eyes on their mates. This is going to be the longest year of my life. If I could stand to be apart from her for longer than a few minutes, I’d go on a yearlong hunting trip in the middle of nowhere.” ~Nick

  “We’re just supposed to sit back and do nothing while our mates become witches?” Nick asked as he danc
ed out of the way of a kick Kale had just aimed at his head. The pair had been sparring most of the morning. Their mates hadn’t woken, and the men looked like idiots sitting in the hall across from their door so Ciro suggested they work off some excess energy with a little extra training. With the threat of a fight with Volcan looming, they could use all the training they could get. A few minutes into the sparring session, Kale and Nick, panting and dripping with sweat, had pulled off their shirts and thrown each other around the yard several times. Ciro stood close by, encouraging and commenting on their techniques.

  “I dare you to forbid Kara from doing it.” Kale chuckled. He bounced on the balls of his feet and sidestepped Nick’s punch. Nick got him when he spun back around and backhanded Kale’s chest.

  “I would advise against that,” Ciro said. “Keep an eye out for that backhand, Kale. Crouch lower the next time you sidestep and then spring forward.” The Alpha’s voice was measured and calm, as usual.

  “I’m not an idiot,” Nick huffed. “I know she’d probably kick me in my jewels if I attempted to forbid her from doing anything. But I’m not above engaging in other tactics to try and get my way.”

  “What other tactics?” asked Kale between panted breaths.

  “Seduction,” replied Nick, grinning.

  Kale smiled. “Now that’s a plan I could get on board with.”

  Nick circled the Irish beta, watching for the tell he’d picked up on the last time the two had sparred. As soon as Kale dropped his chin just a fraction, Nick dodged and swept his leg out. Kale jumped and narrowly avoided being put on his rear end.

  “What do you think the girls will say when we tell them that we are the sacrifice?” Nick asked.

  “They will fight us tooth and nail,” Ciro said. “These women are strong. They’ve had to fight to survive their childhoods, relying on no one but themselves. Out of that milieu come women who are fiercely independent. Our mates are not used to anyone giving them anything. They will not accept the gift of a mate who sacrifices himself so they may live.”

  “We can’t avoid them all day,” Nick said, not that he would want to avoid Kara. Quite the opposite. “Eventually, they’ll wake up and we’ll have to face them.”

  Kale glanced up at the window of the girls’ room. He grinned and waved. “They’re awake. We have an audience.”

  “If I would have known that, I might’ve tried a little harder,” said Nick. He glanced up but it was too late. All he saw was a ruffling of the curtains. Damn. He wished he could speak to Kara through their bond.

  “Ha,” replied Kale. “I only held back in case someone was watching. I didn’t want to embarrass you in front of your mate.”

  “Right. Whatever you have to tell yourself, Irishman,” Nick muttered as he wiped the sweat from his brow.

  They looked at one another and grinned. Seconds earlier, their sparring for the day had been all but complete. Now, the two wolves attacked each other with a renewed ferocity. Though they’d already been at it the better part of an hour, their movements quickened. They struck with more force, each wanting to prove his dominance in front of his mate. They lunged, punched, and blocked, throwing their entire effort into each movement. They wrestled each other to the ground, rolling around like a couple of pigs in slop until they were covered from head to toe with sweat and grime.

  Ciro tried to offer instruction, but his words were lost on Nick. All Nick could think of was showing off for Kara. Was it ridiculous for him to feel that it was necessary to show off for her? Probably. Did that change his behavior? Now way. After a particularly nasty strike to the side of Kale’s head, Nick stepped back and roared, flexing his muscles like a professional wrestler and staring up at the window.

  “You two are behaving like idiots,” said Ciro, though Nick could hear the humor in the Alpha’s voice.

  While Nick was staring at the window, Kale rose and plowed into the wolf, sending him sprawling. Now, it was Kale’s turn to preen. Facing the window, he struck a pose, flexing his huge biceps.

  “You are being especially dense, Kale,” said Ciro. “Have you forgotten your mate can’t even see you?”

  Kale deflated, a crestfallen look on his face. “Aye.” But then he perked back up. “I’m sure da other females will describe to Heather what I’m doing to Nick. Heather will be the queen healer because of her mate’s strength. It will put the other healers ta shame probably.”

  Ciro rolled his eyes. “That might be so if that’s what was happening,” said Nick. He hit Kale like an out-of-control bus, and the two males were again rolling around in the dirt. Ciro let the males go on for a few more minutes. Neither was able to get the upper hand.

  “Enough, you two peacocks. Put away your tail feathers, and let’s go get this over with.”

  The other wolves didn’t acknowledge him. Kale held Nick in a chokehold from behind. Nick worked himself up to his feet. He jumped into the air, lifting all of his and Kale’s weight in the process. Nick threw himself backward, purposely falling to the ground as he did so. He landed squarely on top of Kale, who let out an oomph but held fast.

  “Enough,” yelled Ciro. This time he put a little of his Alpha power into the command. The wolves froze momentarily and Kale released his grip. “Please, gentlemen, that’s enough.”

  “We’re just having a bit of fun, Ciro,” said Nick as he rose from the ground.

  “Aye,” agreed Kale. “No hard feelings. It’s all in good fun.”

  “I don’t doubt that. But now is not the time for juvenile shows of strength. The strength our mates need from us now isn’t physical.”

  “True enough,” said Nick as he extended a hand to Kale. The other wolf took it, and Nick pulled him to his feet. The Canadian Beta turned to the house and sighed. “This little fight is nothing compared to the one we are about to be in with our mates.” He picked up their shirts from the ground and tossed Kale his, who caught it and flung it over his shoulder.

  “What are the chances it could end up as a wrestling match?” Kale asked as they walked toward Peri’s house. “I could go another round.”

  Ciro chuckled and Nick noticed Ciro’s previous ire fled as quickly as it had come.

  Nick glanced out of the corner of his eye. “Me, too. Do you think we can somehow get Jell-O involved?”

  “What is it about finding our mates that has turned you two into adolescent pups?” Ciro asked.

  “I don’t know, but isn’t it great?” Nick said. “I feel exactly like I did on my first hunt. I just want to sink my teeth into something.” He smiled and squeezed his hands into fists.

  “And I bet I’ve got an idea on what that might be … or should I say who that might be,” said Kale, clapping Nick on the back.

  “You got that right, brother,” said Nick grinning.

  Ciro rolled his eyes. “I hope you two understand what all being a mate entails. Yes, you are Betas. But the responsibilities you have to your pack are great. And one never knows when his status will change from Beta to Alpha. It can happen in an instant. Leading a pack is one thing. But doing so while worrying about protecting your mate, well, that’s something else entirely.”

  “Don’t you think our duties will be easier now that we’ve found our mates? Won’t they give us the strength to be the leaders we need to be? Not to mention, keep the darkness from growing. That’s what I’ve always believed would happen,” said Nick.

  “Indeed, your strength will increase. And right along with it, so will your responsibilities. You cannot have one without the other,” said Ciro. “You must think of your mate’s needs first, as well as your pack’s. It is a delicate balance and a heavy burden to carry.”

  “A burden I will happily bear as long as I have Kara by my side.”

  “Aye, and me, as well, as long as I have Heather,” said Kale.

  “Just remember, this isn’t all fun and games,” said Ciro, his brow drawing into a deep ‘V.’ “Enjoy your newly discovered mates,
yes, but remember not to lose your head. Which, ahem, I can see from that last little display you two are prone to do.”

  “I’m going to go enjoy my mate right now,” said Kale, practically hopping on the balls of his feet. “Too bad yours is still underage, mate.” He punched Nick in the shoulder and bounded ahead.

  “Not so fast, Kale,” said Ciro. “Remember what Peri said. Our women have to be pure of heart for the spell to work. I know we haven’t decided anything yet, but don’t go corrupting Heather before she has a chance to make up her mind about the spell.”

  “Seems like a good way to get out of this mess,” he replied.

  Nick nodded his agreement but forced himself not to indulge any thoughts of corrupting his mate, no matter how much he wanted to. And bloody hell did he want to.

  “Yeah, until Peri finds out and makes you into a wolf-skin rug,” Ciro chided, his frown turning into a smirk.

  Kale practically purred. “As long as Heather is the one laying on me in front of the fire, I might risk it.”

  Nick didn’t respond to the other wolf’s goading. He was too busy pondering what Ciro said. Nick wasn’t delusional enough to think they weren’t in store for some dark times. But now that he had Kara, he could face anything. What troubled him, however, was that he didn’t actually have her. She was underage so they couldn’t perform the Blood Rites, and their mental bond wasn’t yet formed. This would leave them both vulnerable until she turned eighteen. It worried Nick more than anything else. He wouldn’t be able to bear it if he lost his mate so soon after finding her. Such a thing would spell the end of him, even if they weren’t yet bonded.

  Would the opposite be true? If the spell was successful, he might be the one who died. That would leave Kara all alone in this new life she was just beginning to come to terms with. He growled in frustration. It simply wasn’t fair. Kara was far too young to have to deal with these things. And she shouldn’t be left without him. The males would just have to find some way to sacrifice themselves … and not die. What could be easier?