A Curse of Shadows: A Wolf Shifter Romantasy Standalone, page 1
A CURSE OF SHADOWS
WOLVES OF LUNARA BOOK ONE
HEATHER RENEE
A Curse of Shadows, Wolves of Lunara Book One © Copyright 2024 by Heather Renee and HRB Publishing LLC
All rights reserved under the International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No parts of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the written permission of the author.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, alive or dead, is purely coincidental.
For more information on reproducing sections of this book or sales of this book, email heatherreneeauthor@yahoo.com.
ISBN:
Editing: Amy McNulty
Cover: Covers by Juan
Illustrations: Samiaya Art
CONTENTS
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
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Epilogue
Stay in Touch
Also by Heather Renee
Acknowledgments
About the Author
CHAPTER ONE
ISLA
I’m quite certain something has possessed me. That must be it, because I can’t think of any other reason why I just hiked a mountain…for fun. Not because someone was chasing me up the steep incline, with its plethora of switchbacks that are numbered with a baffling disregard for accuracy, but because I chose to.
Yet I can’t lie. The panoramic glory unfurling from the top of Multnomah Falls is nothing short of incredible. The cascade of water rushes over the edge with a ferocity that almost looks intriguing—another reason I believe someone’s taken control of me—and makes my heart soar.
Looking up, the sky is a bright azure without a cloud in sight, and a steady breeze cools my heated skin. My gaze wanders, following the expansive Columbia River before me, and I see the fishermen out on their boats with the small whitecaps around them, reminding me just how fierce the wind can get around here.
The last thought is enough to have me stepping back from the rail at the trail’s end and returning my attention to the water behind me. Going back up the steps, I cross over a few fallen trees and take a seat on a log. The creek that feeds the falls is calm, as if the deadly drop only fifty feet ahead isn’t anything to be worried about.
Minutes tick by as I watch the tranquil waters, a surprisingly welcome reprieve from the vibrant mayhem of the big city I’ve fallen in love with. Living in Portland, Oregon isn’t for everyone, but the chaos of the people, the mazes of traffic, the whimsical weather, and everything in between—they’ve always appealed to me. One thing I’ve never taken to that most do around here is all the opportunities for outdoor activities we’re surrounded by in our city. At least until today.
Waking up before dawn, I sat up in bed and an inexplicable yearning took over, encouraging me to escape the confines of my apartment. Even now that I’ve accomplished my task, I still don’t understand why I came here. A part of me hopes that this doesn’t happen again, but I also don’t hate that after twenty-five years of city living, I’ve finally hiked Multnomah Falls.
A smile graces my face as that same urge comes back, this time telling me it’s time to head back to my car. Maybe whatever demon possessing me has finally had enough—kidding. Mostly.
Portland has some weird happenings in it, and plenty of supernatural movies have been filmed here, but that’s nothing more than fiction.
It’s still early, the sun having just begun rising in the sky as I started my hike, which means I’m the only one heading down now. Plenty of others are making their way up, smiles on their faces and seemingly eager for the torment that the sharp ascent promises.
I shake my head as I’m practically forced to jog down the mountain. Never again will I see this trail. I’ll light some sage when I get home and everything will go back to normal.
There’s a twinge in my chest, one I’ve been ignoring for weeks now. My life hasn’t been normal for over a month. Not since my best friend was promoted at work and transferred to Seattle for her new role. She’s only a few hours’ drive away, and we both promised to visit, but that’s yet to happen.
While I love my city life, even being surrounded by a couple million people doesn’t take away the pain of living without one’s soul sister.
For as long as I can remember, Elodee has been by my side. We both grew up in the foster system, and for a lot of those years, our only saving grace was having each other. Until she moved, we’d never spent more than a few nights apart.
To say living alone and doing everything myself this last month has been an adjustment would be an understatement.
I shake off the negativity. I really am happy for her. So much so that I’ve been looking at making my own job change—maybe something different from the banking job I’ve had for the last few years—so we can live in Seattle together, even if that feels a little too codependent. I know Elodee would love to have me there, but I also know that I should be okay on my own. At least, that’s what I keep telling myself whenever I fail to apply for new jobs that could be perfect for me.
Thirty minutes later, I walk under the freeway to get to the parking lot that’s located right between the north and south lanes of the interstate. Not sure who had that bright idea, but it doesn’t much matter. It’s time to get home.
Getting to my car, I unlock the driver’s door of my white two-door Honda, or Susie, as I like to call her. She was the first big purchase I made as an adult and while she’s a bit rusty, I love her all the same. Plus, it’s not like I actually drive much. I probably spend more on paying for my parking spot at the apartment complex than she’s worth, but I don’t care.
Now to navigate my way out of this place. I drive toward the interstate, patting the dashboard. “All right, Susie. I know you don’t like to go fast, but let’s hurry and get home, okay?”
I swear the engine groans in response, but that doesn’t stop me from pressing my foot on the accelerator so that I’m not a total hindrance while merging with the traffic.
“Oh, you’ve got to be shitting me.” Now, it’s my turn to groan. I don’t know how I read the signs wrong, but I suddenly find myself going east on the interstate when I should be heading west.
A trucker speeds past me, honking and making me jump in my seat. “Yeah, dude. I know she’s slow, but she’s a city car.”
I’ve never been out this far on the freeway by myself. Even as an adult, I don’t like to get lost. My knuckles turn white from gripping the steering wheel so tightly, and my breathing feels too rapid as I try to pay better attention to the exits. I need to find one that will allow me to turn around, but I’m so freaked out that I miss the first couple.
Taking some deep breaths, I take the next offramp, called ‘Bridge of the Gods.’
That makes me snort. “So much for thinking there’s nothing supernatural out here.”
One turn after another, and… “No, no, no. What is wrong with me?”
I’m somehow in a line for a tollbooth to go over that damn bridge instead of getting back on the interstate. This is why I never leave the city. One-way streets and roundabouts are less stressful than this crap.
I get to the window, doing my best not to cry as she says, “Scan your card.”
“I’m really sorry,” I reply with a sweet smile. “I made a wrong turn and—”
The hasty attendant cuts me off with glowering, brown eyes. “You’re blocking traffic, ma’am. Pay the toll. There’s no need to be difficult.”
“I wasn’t trying to be.”
Before I can say anything, she shoves the card scanner toward my face.
Maybe I should have just stayed on top of the mountain.
I grab my debit card from my purse and grudgingly pay the stupid toll. She doesn’t even thank me, just ushers me along toward the ginormous bridge.
I’m doing okay until the pavement turns into what looks like a steel grate for a road and my car begins to rattle, vibrating my body and making my teeth chatter. “Don’t you dare break down on this bridge, Susie. I will send you to the scrapyard.”
Hovering over my steering wheel, I pull down my visor to block the rising s
The glare of the sun grows brighter, and I take my foot off the gas because I can’t see a damn thing. If I hit someone right now, I will jump right off this bridge.
Okay, maybe not really, but seriously, I can’t handle an accident on top of taking the wrong road twice, getting myself farther from home each time.
The shaking stops as heat fills my car, seeping through my skin, calming my racing heart. Well, that’s odd. I blink several times, but the light only grows brighter until there’s nothing other than a blinding kaleidoscope of fiery oranges, pinks, and reds surrounding me.
This is getting too weird.
I move my foot, intending to press on the accelerator again, but there’s nothing there. One second, I’m sitting in the driver’s seat, and the next, I’m in a ball of light, floating within its warmth and inhaling…flowers? Sugar? Something sweet, but that’s not the point here.
I’ve officially lost my mind.
Closing my eyes, I try to pinch myself, but controlling my own movements doesn’t seem possible. In fact, I’m not even sure I’m still alive. Holy shit, did I just die?
I wasn’t even going thirty miles an hour. Did the bridge collapse and I can’t remember those last few moments as my car plunged into the Columbia? No freaking way.
“Welcome back to Lunara,” a man’s kind voice says as I’m still surrounded by light. “Did you have a—” There’s a sharp gasp before he adds, “Princess Isobella, you’ve returned.”
My vision clears, and what the hell is this?
I’m in a cave of sorts. The cavernous area is a mix of light and shadows and shimmering rock walls, with a ceiling that seems to disappear into the darkness above. The air is cool and crisp and causes goosebumps to rise on my arms.
When I look down, I’m no longer dressed in the yoga pants and sweatshirt I was wearing two minutes ago. I’m clothed in a floor-length gown made of silk that feels weightless against my body. The dark-blue color clings to my curves but doesn’t restrict my movements as I turn around.
There’s only darkness behind me, and I notice I’m standing on a platform made of engraved stone and a metal emblem that seems to pulse with some sort of vibrating energy.
I start to kneel, feeling lightheaded, but I catch the stare of the man who greeted me, reminding me that I’m not alone.
The stranger is on one knee, dressed in dark, cotton pants and a matching long-sleeved button-up shirt and holding some sort of silver staff with a blue stone at the top that resembles the color of my dress. His head is bowed, but his light-green eyes keep flickering toward me.
When he finds me watching him, there seem to be a million questions dancing within his stare, but he manages to settle on just one. “Are you in distress, Princess Isobella?”
“Um, I’m not sure. And my name is Isla, not Isobella,” I tell him, then that twinge in my chest returns.
His face contorts briefly. “Your face and essence… You must be our lost princess.”
I’ve officially lost my mind, or maybe I’m dreaming. Yes, that must be it. I drank too much wine last night as I pouted over having nothing to do on a Friday night. This is a hangover dream, one I’m ready to be done with.
I start to pinch myself and notice perfectly manicured nails gracing my hands. Not only that, but the scar on my right ring finger that’s been there since I was in third grade and cut myself on a can of ravioli is no longer present.
“What the hell is happening to me and why can’t I wake up?” I ask myself, but this stranger seems to believe I’m speaking to him.
He’s still bowed, and his frown only deepens. “I’m going to alert King Asher.”
“I need to wake up. I need to wake up. I need to wake up!” I close my eyes and grip the sides of my hair. The tips of my fingers brush over a cool metal, and when I reopen my eyes, my normally blonde hair is…rose gold with white and auburn highlights. This can’t be real. It’s not possible.
A crown falls off my head, tumbling onto the stone platform I still stand on and rolling until it stops at the man’s feet.
He picks up the unwanted accessory with gentleness and finally stands. “Your Highness, I don’t know what’s happened, but please, come with me. I’m sure King Asher will make sense of this.”
My hands shake as I release the foreign strands of what should be my hair. I’m not me, but I still feel like me. I have no clue where I am or what the hell happened to my car. My heart constricts to the point of pain as I blink several times, trying to force any of this to make sense.
The coolness of the cave surrounds me and I close my eyes, inhaling deeply. While I’m understandably freaked out, I’m not frightened. Not in the way that I fear for my life, just more confused than I’ve ever been.
This must be some vivid dream. Maybe if I play along with whatever this is, I’ll be able to wake up. Yes, that has to be the answer here.
Reopening my eyes, I nod toward the unknown man and extend my hand, taking back the offered crown. As its weight settles onto my head, I ignore the swell in my chest and pray that in no time at all, I’ll be waking up in my own bed, never having hiked that damn mountain and gotten on the wrong freeway.
CHAPTER TWO
ISLA
What began as a nightmare doesn’t seem so bad once I stop fighting against whatever is happening to me. Cain, as he finally introduced himself, leads us out of the cave and we emerge into a utopia plucked from the pages of a storybook.
The air is crisp and invigorating against my skin and the twilight above is a tapestry of dusky blues and deep amethyst. Twin moons shine brightly amongst the darkening sky and an explosion of stars seem to just be coming to life. I’m transfixed by the sight and a serenity, both profound and unfamiliar, settles over me, at least for the moment.
“Right this way, Princess.” Cain’s gentle prompt nudges me back to the present, his voice a soft echo in the quiet of the night.
I peel my gaze away from the sky and remind myself that I should be paying more attention to what’s around me as opposed to what’s above.
We walk a smooth, stone pathway that leads over a grass-covered hill. At the top, I pause once again to appreciate the striking view before me. Rolling hills of greenery continue until they turn to a darkness that seems never-ending. Structures, most with their lights off, appear often enough to resemble a quaint town, but it’s the opulent castle that seizes my attention most.
The shimmering silver building, highlighted by the moon’s glow, sits on the highest point that I can see. There are several levels to it, giving it a cascading effect. The tallest portion has two turrets—both concealed by the seamless stone with few windows—and a domed area between them made of glass and a steel frame. Beneath that, there’s a broader section with smaller windows spaced out and one large set of double wooden doors that stand out, even from this far away.
“Your Highness.” Cain clears his throat. “We really shouldn’t linger.”
“Are you taking me there?” I point toward the architectural marvel, the tightening of my throat betraying a nervousness that I try to swallow away. The chances of waking up back in my bed should be higher if I just play along. Right?
Cain’s green eyes spark under the moonlight as he nods. “Yes, that is where King Asher is and where I’m instructed to bring all unexpected arrivals, Princess Isobella.”
“It’s—never mind.” Isobella, Isla. Doesn’t matter, it’s not like this is real. Though I can’t deny, I’ve never had a dream this vivid. My senses are on overdrive and I’m not a fan.
Out of nervous habit, my hand reaches up to twist a section of my hair and I wince when I’m reminded that not even my long strands are as they should be.
“To the castle we go, then,” I say with a smile that has tension draining from Cain’s shoulders.
He leads the way down the path and as we start to pass modest homes made from smooth stucco in varying shades of tan, I begin to wonder where all those who occupy these houses are.
“How many people live here?” I ask to fill the silence and ease my racing thoughts.
