Fated Curse Read online

  Fated Curse

  Skye Malone

  Fated Curse

  Book Two of the Shifters of Ragnarok Series

  by Skye Malone

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  Copyright 2021 - Skye Malone

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  Published by Wildflower Isle

  P.O. Box 129, Savoy, IL 61874

  www.wildflowerisle.com

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  All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this text and any portions thereof in any manner whatsoever.

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  This book is a work of fiction. All characters, names, places and incidents appearing in this work are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

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  ISBN-13: 978-1-940617-81-7

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  Library of Congress Control Number: 2021903169

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  Cover design by Karri Klawiter

  www.artbykarri.com

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  Find out about all new releases:

  Join Skye’s mailing list at skyemalone.com/mailinglist!

  v.1.0

  Titles by Skye Malone

  Adult Paranormal Romance

  The Shifters of Ragnarok Series

  The Demon Guardians Series

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  Young Adult Paranormal Romance

  The Awakened Fate Series

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  Young Adult Urban Fantasy

  The Kindling Trilogy

  New releases, giveaways, and more!

  Be the first to hear about new books when you join Skye Malone’s mailing list!

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  Contents

  Author’s Note

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Get the inside scoop!

  About the author

  Author’s Note

  A number of the words in this series are taken from actual Norse mythology, albeit with some slightly altered spellings. The ulfhednar, seidr, and the draugar are just a few.

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  While this series is a work of fiction, and as such, I have taken artistic liberties with all of these concepts, I highly recommend reading more about them from nonfiction sources. Their history is fascinating.

  1

  Lindy

  If she didn’t leave now, everyone could die.

  Keeping an eye on the exit from the barracks, Lindy folded a small scrap of paper and set it on the rough gray blanket. Somebody would find the goodbye note, but it wouldn’t be soon. This cot was far from the front of the underground bunker, and there were plenty of barrack rooms to fill before any survivors were assigned space back here. By the time anyone spotted the note, let alone brought it to her best friend, Hayden, Lindy would be long gone.

  Hopefully.

  Guilt colored the thought. Hayden wouldn’t understand, not at first. But maybe, with enough time, her best friend would at least forgive her. Lindy had done all she could to protect Hayden’s parents when the world fell and fire came from the sky. She’d done everything she could to protect everyone else in Mariposa too, mostly from herself. But the spells Hayden put around this place made seidr fill the air now, permeating everything with magic, and the curse was gnawing at the edges of Lindy’s mind in response. It was only a matter of time until the darkness inside her won.

  So she had to go.

  She hefted her backpack higher on her shoulders, checked her switchblade in its customary position in her pocket, and then headed for the door. Two hundred people filled the bunker, give or take. Survivors of the world’s collapse and all that was left of the population of Mariposa, Colorado.

  Easy enough to get lost in the shuffle.

  Watch for moments of distraction or confusion. These are to your advantage, as your prey will not be ready when you strike to kill.

  Her steps hitched and she stopped, hot rage bringing pointless tears to her eyes as she tried to banish her mother’s voice from memory. The woman had done enough damage to her childhood. She had no right to lurk in Lindy’s mind now.

  Especially given the circumstances.

  Drawing a steadying breath, she made herself continue into the hallway. Based on conversations she’d overheard from the ulfhednar—otherwise known as the werewolves who owned this underground safe haven and the luxurious manor above it—the bunker was extensive. A metal-walled complex filled with barrack rooms and private rooms alike, along with multiple kitchens, a gym and dojo, and storage areas galore. A prepper’s fantasy, really. But in addition to countless generators and water filters and enough food to last for years, the place had three exits, just in case one or another became inaccessible.

  And the one nearest to Lindy led to the garage.

  The people organizing everything had thought it strange when Lindy asked for a cot this deep in the complex. They didn’t know she had no intention of remaining here.

  Keeping her head tucked down, she hurried through the metal halls, hoping her thick winter coat and knit cap made her look like just another survivor on her way to a place to stay. With any luck, no one would pay her any attention, and the ulfhednar would be so busy helping people at the main entrance or coordinating with the soldiers who’d come to help guard this place, they’d never notice Lindy slipping away.

  Without any luck, she’d have to use seidr.

  Nausea stirred in her stomach, and she tried to ignore it. If it came down to it, she wouldn’t use much. Just enough to disguise her to whoever was guarding the door. She’d be okay.

  So would everyone else.

  Breathing slowly to stay calm, she rounded the corner. At the end of the next hall, she spotted a stairway leading upward.

  Bingo.

  Glancing around swiftly, she didn’t see anyone standing guard, and so she hurried toward the stairs. Old habit made her keep her footsteps silent as she scaled the steps, but resignation hit her when she reached the heavily fortified door.

  Palm-print lock. Dammit.

  She cast a quick look back down the stairs. Going out the front wasn’t an option; there were too many people to get past easily, even with magical help. And the other exit from the bunker opened into the forest, which would only leave her needing to traverse the woods back to the garage anyway.

  And God knew what was waiting out there.

  Gritting her teeth against the fear and frustration that still made her want to cry, she pressed her left palm to the panel and felt the seidr spread through her body like an insidious, invisible smoke, carrying out into her hand. Under her breath, she snarled the spell.

  Darkness whispered within her, seething and churning at the edges of her mind like a toxic black cloud on the horizon, waiting to swallow her whole. On her right wrist, her Allegiant tattoo tingled faintly beneath the leather band she wore to hide the mark.


  A barely audible click came from the door. She yanked her hand back, releasing her hold on the seidr as fast as she could.

  The darkness receded inside her mind.

  She trembled. Even if she couldn’t feel it anymore, she knew the poison wasn’t gone. It never would be. The curse was only waiting.

  But it hadn’t taken her yet.

  With a steadying breath, she pushed the door out from its frame and peered through the gap. The garage was nearly the size of a small warehouse, filled with everything from sports cars to SUVs to what looked like a vintage Army truck.

  “—ready in a few minutes.”

  She ducked back at the sound of a young man’s voice. Through the narrow opening, she caught a glimpse of one of the ROTC soldiers standing near an SUV.

  “Sounds good,” another voice replied.

  Ice shot through her. She knew that deep, entirely too-tempting voice.

  Wes.

  Lindy hesitated behind the door, debating, while the sounds of something heavy being moved came from the garage. The forest exit meant more seidr, more risks. Those zombie-like bastards, the draugar, could be anywhere. Hell, the Order could be too. But the egress was still tempting, considering this one led her right near that damnably hot wolf with his rugged good looks, tattooed body made of muscle, and eerily intense eyes.

  Eyes she’d caught lingering on her more than once whenever she’d run into him, and God help her for how that made her feel.

  Cursing silently to herself, she reached into her backpack and drew out her mask. The air outside was still terrible, weeks after fire had burned the forest, the town, and probably half the damn world. Pulling it on, she kept an eye to the gap between the door and the frame, careful not to make any sounds. Ulfhednar hearing was incredible, as was their strength and sense of smell. But she’d distracted Wes once with seidr, back before the world went mad. He and his friend Connor had come by to help her and Hayden after one of the Order broke into their apartment.

  Shudders rolled through her. That guy was dead, but others were out there, as well she knew. The Order had always been everywhere, ready, waiting. Before the advent of Ragnarok, they’d secretly occupied everything from jobs as janitors at gas stations to CEOs in corporate high-rises, though most people didn’t even know they existed. And now they were out in the open, marching through the wreckage and celebrating how they’d torn down the world while they unleashed hell on all who survived its fall.

  When the day comes, the righteous shall rise to wreak justice upon the corrupt and the fallen.

  Her skin crawled. Death-cult bastards.

  Pushing the memories aside, she eased the door open wider, grateful at least that the ulfhednar kept the hinges oiled so it didn’t make a sound. As she slipped through the gap, she eyed the vehicles again. None of them were options, not with a wolf nearby. But there were cars and trucks out in the courtyard, brought by the survivors and left with their keys inside in case anyone needed to make a fast getaway. No one wanted to be trapped without a way of escape, even in this place.

  Not after everything they’d all seen in the past few weeks.

  But the cars and trucks would presumably be empty now that most everyone was inside, which meant all she needed to do was take one and everything would be fine.

  Hopefully, anyway.

  She slipped past the door and then eased it closed behind her. Placing each foot carefully in front of the other, she crept along the side of an SUV. The massive garage door gaped wide ahead of her, a view of the expansive courtyard and burned forest beyond it.

  Two people stood near the entrance, their backs to her.

  She swallowed hard, hesitating in spite of herself. Wes waited at the garage opening, his eyes on the burned forest. The guy to his right was even bigger than him, though they both were built like towering trees from before everything went to ash. She recognized the man too, though she hadn’t caught his name. One of the ulfhednar. The one so huge and tall, he had to bend just to get through doorways. He was currently hefting a box down from the back of an Army truck, casting short glances around the garage as he moved.

  Damn, damn, damn.

  Gritting her teeth, she drew the seidr up inside again, her eyes on Wes even more than his friend. His dark hair was trapped beneath a black knit cap, and tattoos peeked past the collar of his coat. Even beneath his winter gear, he was clearly solidly built, and he eyed the destroyed forest like he was challenging it to attack.

  She inched toward the door. While the defenses around her would suppress her scent and quell any trace of sound, more than one person in history had lost their lives by trusting their defenses so much that they stopped being cautious. For that matter, Wes didn’t even have a mask on, which was reckless of him given all the grit and toxins possibly lingering in the air.

  The better to smell her with…

  Anxiety tangled in her stomach like snakes. Creeping forward, she inched toward the door, attempting to stay as far from the two men as possible. Her eyes never left Wes, for all that she knew there was the other, larger wolf less than three feet beyond him.

  But somehow it felt like, if anyone was going to pick up on her presence, Wes would be the one who—

  His head turned her direction, and she froze. For a heartbeat, Wes paused, a flicker of consternation passing over his face. His nose twitched in a way she recognized from all the times Hayden tried to pretend not to be sniffing something with those heightened senses of hers.

  “Odin’s fucking eye,” the bigger man swore incredulously.

  Wes’s attention snapped to his friend, and warily, Lindy followed his gaze. Beyond the two men, a trio of little boys were running through the courtyard.

  “Dammit,” the larger man said, moving to put down the box he was holding. The cardboard bottom started to give way and the guy shifted his grip quickly to keep the contents from falling. The sound of bottles clattering against each other came from inside.

  “You okay?” Wes paused in the act of reaching to help him.

  “Yeah, uh—” The big guy glanced between the kids and Wes, a question in his eyes.

  Wes hesitated. “It’s okay.” His voice was tinged with reluctance. “I’ve got it.” He walked out toward the boys, calling to them as he went.

  Lindy watched the bigger guy for a moment to see if he reacted to her presence. When he didn’t look away from Wes and the boys, she cautiously crept onward, not drawing a full breath until she was over a dozen yards beyond the garage.

  The ulfhednar never looked toward her.

  Quickly and silently, she hurried around the corner and then let the seidr die, trying to ignore the way it felt like a faint electrical current was fading from the green-black ink of her tattoo. Biting her lip, she scanned the forest and then hurried toward the car at the far end of the courtyard and closest to the road away from the manor. The dark-brown jalopy wouldn’t win any awards for design, but that wasn’t the point. No one would miss it, because unlike the trucks and SUVs and newer cars, she wasn’t taking anything the survivors would desperately need. It was bad enough she was stealing a car in the first place, but at least she wasn’t stealing anything else. No food at all, and only her own bottle of water and a blanket in her bag.

  But if there was anything to be said for being raised by an apocalypse-obsessed cult, it was that they’d taught her to survive just about anything. She could find what she needed out on the road, even in the hellscape the world had become, and nobody here would suffer because she left.

  Or because she stayed.

  She grasped the handle, pulling it slowly to minimize any sound from the door. Old fast-food wrappers littered the floor of the vehicle, and an empty pack of cigarettes was crumpled in the middle console, while a cup of soda lay on the passenger seat, the fate of its long-dried contents still visible in the discolored patches on the fabric.

  Lovely.

  She looked back toward the manor. They’d be okay. All of them. The Order d
idn’t stand a chance trying to breach this place on their own, and between Hayden’s powers, the wolves’ ability to kill the zombie-like draugar, and all the security on the underground bunker itself, the place might as well be a fortress.

  Her eyes crept skyward. Amid the lingering smoke and cloud cover, five black gashes shredded across the heavens, their interior as dark as the depths of outer space.

  Against that, even a fortress wouldn’t be enough.

  But it was better than nothing.

  Lindy swallowed hard, tearing her eyes away from the impossible lines, an ache taking up residence in her chest. There’d been a time—just a few weeks ago, there’d been a time—when she really thought she’d made it. She’d built a life in Mariposa. Undergrad was behind her and grad school was waiting, and all her future could really be her own. She’d been setting off to Harvard—Harvard, of all places!—with grand plans for making a positive impact in the world.