Capturing the Alpha (Shifters of Nunavut Book 1) (15 page)

Aaron slammed his fist down on his desk. “You aren’t breaking up with me from the North Pole, or wherever the hell you are. You’re not breaking up with me at all. We’re going to work this out.”

“I’ll talk to you when I get back.”

Ginnifer hung up. Aaron immediately tried calling back, but she logged out of Skype. Nothing productive would come of arguing, not when she’d already made up her mind. She hoped that in a few years, Aaron would see that this was the best thing for both of them.

“Damn.”

Ginnifer whirled around to see Jack standing behind her, leaning on a broomstick. “You really aren’t one of them.” He shifted the toothpick to the other side of his mouth. “So, does this mean you’re single now?”

***

“I have to go with her.”

Zane stood outside the clinic with Enzo, their breaths fogging in the chilly air. Past Enzo, through the clinic window, Zane could see the receptionist on the telephone, arranging a flight for Marl.

It still perturbed Zane to see how pale and feeble Marl had become in only a few days time. They had all known she was old, but she’d been such a constant in Siluit. Zane had been an older pup when she’d come to the den with Enzo, two years his junior but half his size. She would often bathe them together, much to Zane’s chagrin, and had always lectured Zane about not cleaning behind his ears. Marl had been there even before Jill, and Zane had never considered she wouldn’t be there to help tend to his own pups.

“You can’t help her,” Zane said. “And it’s not safe for you in the city.”

Tomorrow morning, they’d be flying Marl to a hospital, where she could get the care she needed. After that, she would remain in the city for long-term care. While some shifters could stand to live around humans with all of the noise, smells, and repression, few who had ever known a life of freedom would be able to handle such an existence.

“I’ll manage,” Enzo said tightly. “I’m sorry, Zane. I don’t mean to seem insubordinate, but…you don’t understand. She’s my mother.”

Zane’s expression was a stone mask as Enzo put a hand on the door.

“I’ll make my way back, once it’s over.”

He opened the door and went inside, leaving Zane to stand, staring at where he’d been. There was a light tapping of footsteps behind him, and when he turned, Ginnifer was there, holding a small paper box and a soda can.

“I didn’t smell you,” he said, frowning. “The stench in this place is overpowering.”

Ginnifer made a show of sniffing the air, though he knew she wouldn’t be able to smell the things he could—burning fuels, decaying refuse, and human waste. It was enough to turn his stomach.

“It’s not all bad.” She pulled the cover from the box, revealing a mess of bread-crusted fruit. “Jack’s mom owns the diner! He got me some of this cobbler. It’s amazing.”

She wore an eager smile as she held it up to him, and Zane picked at a piece of the crust. He put it in his mouth and tried not to gag as he swallowed it. His stomach rarely tolerated anything besides meat.

“Who is Jack?” he asked.

“That would be me,” a tall youth said, as he jogged to catch up to Ginnifer.

Ginnifer said, “I had too much to carry, so Jack offered to help.”

Jack’s brows went up as he took in Zane, but all he asked was, “Are you Ginnifer’s boyfriend?”

“He’s my friend,” Ginnifer said through a mouthful of cobbler.

Friend
. The word made Zane’s lip curl.

Jack said, “Cool. Then I can give you this.” He pulled a piece of paper from his pocket and slipped it into one of the bags he carried. “If you’re ever in Trent and you need anything—something to eat, a shoulder to cry on, a place to stay, you give me a call and I’ll hook you up.”

Zane felt tension building inside of him with each word from the boy’s mouth. Before Ginnifer could swallow her next bite of cobbler, Zane snatched the bags up in one hand.

“She doesn’t need anything from you.”

Ginnifer stepped between them. “Thank you, Jack. For everything.”

Jack cast Zane a wary look, and then tipped his hat at Ginnifer. “See you around, Ginny.”

Zane’s teeth gnashed together as he watched the male walk away. Then his hand went into the bag, and he pulled out the piece of paper. It had Jack’s name, his phone number, and one sentence:

See you in my dreams
.

He crumpled the paper in his fist. When he finally looked down, Ginnifer was glaring up at him. The effect of her angry stare was somewhat dampened by the blueberry syrup smudged above her lips.

“Jealously isn’t an attractive color on you,” she said flatly.

Zane scoffed. “I am not jealous of that male, or any of your males.”

He knew he was being an asshole, but it took her hurt look to cut through his haze of malcontent. Before he could dig himself into a deeper hole, he cupped her cheek in his free hand.

“I should not have said that.”

The tension in him eased as she leaned into his touch, her eyes fluttering shut. He stroked the side of her face, wishing she wasn’t carrying so many things so that he could pull her into his arms. Inside him, his wolf was pacing, desperate for contact with her. He wanted to rub his scent all over her, every part of her. He wanted to mark her, so that other males would stop sniffing around his female, so that she would never again call him her
friend
.

“How’s Marl?”

“Dying,” he said bluntly.

Her eyes opened, but she didn’t seem surprised. “I’m so sorry.”

Zane recounted what the doctor had said, and how Enzo planned on going with his mother. She listened, her face somber.

When he finished, she asked, “Will we be staying here tonight? Jack’s cousin owns a bed and breakfast.”

At the mention of Jack, a fresh wave of anger rolled over him, though he did his best to hide it.

“We’re taking the eastern pass back, it’s twice as much ground to cover, so we’ll need to leave as soon as possible.”

Ginnifer nodded, though she wasn’t looking at him. Her eyes drifted over the town, and she took a long sip of her drink, emptying the can.

“I can stay here for a few days, and wait for Boaz and the others to come. Oh, crap!” She shot up. “I forgot to call his mom.”

Zane grabbed her arm. “We don’t have time for that. We need to leave.”

He needed to get away from this place, the smells, the dying,
Jack
, he needed to get away and he couldn’t leave her behind, not unless he wanted his wolf to go fucking insane. The animal was growing more frustrated by the day, urging him to take her, to mark her as his own. He couldn’t be close to her, and he couldn’t be apart from her.

Traveling was much easier without having Marl with them, and within two days the forest began to thin as it yielded to the hard ground of the tundra. Rather than sleeping full nights, Zane would stop now and again, taking the opportunity to catch an hour or two of sleep whenever they found shelter. The stops were too far apart for Ginnifer, and when Zane woke her after such a short time, she felt as though she’d rather not sleep at all, than take her rest in a series of naps. Sometimes she tried to stay awake for just that reason, but exhaustion would overtake her, usually not long before Zane would be waking up to leave.

She didn’t complain about the hard pace. It kept them too tired to acknowledge that they were alone with one another, which was something she desperately needed.

Ending things with Aaron had been the right thing to do. Although she’d been confident in her decision, and then glad when it was finally over, the past two days hadn’t been without the occasional moment of doubt. It wasn’t Aaron that she missed, it was the vision of the future, the one she’d held for seven years, when he had first proposed to her. She imagined the house that they would have bought, now being lived in by another couple. The children they were supposed to have had popped like soap bubbles, and she saw herself growing old alone now, or with some other man, one that she didn’t yet know and had a difficult time conceptualizing.

It definitely wouldn’t be Zane.

He would mate with Coral, probably not long after they got back to the den. However much he was adverse to it, she believed that they would come to care for one another as the years passed. And even if they wouldn’t, it still wasn’t her place to get between them, especially not because she was feeling lonely and confused.

By the third evening, Ginnifer’s legs shook as she climbed off Zane’s back. Her body felt devoid of energy as she staggered into the icy cave. She waited for him in the mouth of the cave, where the glow of early evening light still penetrated the blackness. That was another thing she didn’t like about the places he chose to rest—they were always dark.

A moment later, he stepped in behind her in his human form, his pelt wrapped over his shoulders. There were circles under his eyes and his face was unshaven, but it did nothing to diminish his appeal. She looked away, focusing her attention on the icicles above him.

“It’s going to snow,” he told her, sitting down a few paces into the cave.

Ginnifer put her bags down and sat across from him, drawing her knees up to her chest.

“How can you tell?”

Zane glanced up at the sky, which held the same steel-gray clouds Ginnifer had seen every day since they’d left Siluit. He lifted a shoulder and gave her a half-smile.

“I guess it’s a wolf thing.”

“Fair enough,” she said, ignoring the tickling sensation in her belly.

She dug through her bag, pushing aside dozens of empty wrappers. After her call to Aaron, she’d known that she would need some chocolate therapy, and had purchased an assortment of wildly overpriced candy bars from Jack. She was dismayed to find that there were only two left.

“Okay,” she said, holding one up in each hand. “I have a Mr. Big and a Coffee Crisp. I think I might also have some ketchup chips in here, if you’re feeling bold.”

“I am feeling tired,” he said, but he was staring at her as though he could watch her all night.

“Want something fresh to eat? I saw some caribou a little ways back.”

They’d been back in Siluit territory for a few hours, and she was craving something besides candy bars and the rations of dried meat they’d brought.

“You want me to catch a whole caribou for only the two of us?” Now, he was looking at her as though he thought she was the most entertaining thing in the world.

She stretched out her legs, so that her feet could almost touch his. “Well, I was thinking
I’d
hunt it and you could do the cooking.”

“So long as you skin it,” he said, his eyelids falling lower each time he blinked. “I will hunt for us in the morning.”

His posture slacked as he began to succumb to sleep. Ginnifer stared at him, wanting badly to crawl over and cuddle up beside him.

As though reading her mind, he said, “If you get cold, come lay beside me. I will keep you warm.”

She thought she could feel his sleep-roughened words brush against her skin.

“I think I might take a quick walk before dark.”

As she spoke, she braced herself for an argument, the same one they’d had every time she’d asked to stretch her legs and take some pictures. Yes, she would watch where she was walking. No, she wouldn’t go too far. Yes, she wouldn’t be gone long. Even after all that, he usually gave a vague “it isn’t safe” and told her to stay put. Then, she would have to remind him that she’d done just fine on her own for two months, before Indigo got her mixed up with trouble. Then, he would remind her of how she almost lost her foot to a bear trap. Then they would come full circle, with her telling him that she’d watch where she was walking, wouldn’t go too far, and wouldn’t be gone long.

He could be infuriating sometimes, but…she also kind of liked it.

Her father had spent the better part of her childhood away from home, and even when he’d been there, his mind was always on his work. Her mother had been a proponent of tough love, and the only thing she’d ever guarded Ginnifer from was too much television. One of the things Ginnifer had liked about Aaron was how much he valued her independent nature, but she had always inwardly wished that he’d be a little protective of her.

She knew that if given enough time, she’d get sick of Zane’s overprotectiveness and probably grow to resent it, but for now it was a guilty pleasure of hers, having him obsess over her safety.

So she was a little disappointed when he only frowned and said, “Be back before the snow picks up.”

By the time Ginnifer had located her camera and booted it up, Zane’s eyes were closed again. It was a measure of how tired he was, because she had yet to see him fall asleep in his human form.

She got up, pulling her fur-lined coat taut around her waist. While the cave wasn’t the least bit comfortable, it did shield them from the wind, and she hoped that they’d stay there through the night. She needed sleep badly, just not right now.

If I stay…
She looked over at Zane, quietly dozing. Her eyes followed a familiar path over the strong line of his jaw, the high slopes of his cheekbones, and the firm edges of his soft lips.

She needed to get away for a bit, clear her mind and breathe air that didn’t smell like him. Otherwise, she knew that she would find herself sitting beside him. He would stir, and wrap her up beneath his pelt, pulling her into his arms, against his hot skin. And then neither of them would be tired anymore, and all it would take was for one of them to get the wild idea that they could be together just once—they could indulge in each other one time, and then everything could go back to the way it had been before.

Ginnifer turned and trudged out of the cave, relishing the feel of the cold wind against her burning cheeks.

As Zane predicted, snow began to fall, first in light flurries, and then in clumpy flakes. It was her favorite sort of snow, the kind that cast a sparkle and a hush over everything it touched.

There were a few evergreens that still held fast to the hard, rocky ground. She knew that in the morning, once the snow had time to accumulate, the sparse branches would be dressed in white.

She had her camera out, taking a few pictures to busy herself. She hadn’t filmed a single part of the trip to and from Port Trent, for the same reason she tried not to film any distinctive landmarks around the den. While she believed her documentary would change the way people viewed shifters, she also didn’t want anyone to be able to trace a path to Siluit’s doorsteps.

Ginnifer wandered for a while, letting her desire cool off. It took longer than usual, but eventually it subsided and her exhaustion returned to her, putting lead in her boots. As she headed back towards the cave, she got a jolt of energy at the sight of hoof prints, intersecting her own trail in the freshly fallen snow. She set her camera to record video and followed after them as quietly as she could.

Her perseverance was rewarded when she caught sight of four snowy white caribou in the distance, one of them with a spectacular set of antlers. She hid behind a cluster of snow-covered rocks, though she was probably too far away to be seen, and zoomed her camera in on the group. They had stopped to dig up the snow, and were munching on what appeared to be lichen.

She pulled her facemask up and settled into her hard seat. Peary caribou were a rare find, and she was content to film them for as long as they stayed in the area, even as the snow began to pile up on her shoulders and the top of her hood. Her camera handled the fading light well, and behind the lens she could hardly tell that night was almost upon her.

The caribou had the nervous habit of taking a few bites and then lifting their heads to survey the area. The large buck was particularly vigilant, and Ginnifer took notice when his gaze held in one direction, his body going rigid.

The sound of a wolf howling rang through the forest. Her pulse quickened, but she wasn’t afraid. Zane had told her that there were wolves—actual wolf packs—scattered throughout the region, and that they wouldn’t come near her so long as she smelled even a little like him. Even if he hadn’t told her as much, she wouldn’t have been worried. She and Boaz had encountered several wolf packs already, and she’d learned that they were either wary or outright afraid of humans.

She shrunk down a little lower, watching as the caribou grew agitated. They started to run in one direction, but another howl had them rearing up into an abrupt stop and then turning to run in the opposite direction.

If she had blinked, she would have missed what happened next. The snow seemed to come alive, taking the form of a massive white wolf. It lunged for one of the smaller females, pinning her to the ground as the others darted in every direction.

Ginnifer barely breathed as she watched the white wolf rip open the caribou’s throat with one quick snap of its jaws. Then, it lifted its head and let out a short bark.

It felt strange to be hiding from a wolf shifter within Siluit territory, but during her time with the pack, the only two wolves she’d seen that were as big as this one were Zane and Kuva, who were brown and grey respectively. This was not a Siluit shifter.

To the left of the wolf, a female appeared, and she was dragging the male caribou’s limp body by one antler. Pulse racing now, Ginnifer zoomed in on the woman. She was attractive, in a masculine sort of way, and tall, perhaps taller than Ginnifer herself, with long white hair. She was saying something to the big wolf, but Ginnifer was too far away to hear.

Another bark had her panning her camera to the right, where another wolf approached from a hill, this one as big as the other and with a silvery coat that seemed to shimmer. She would have followed the wolf, but her focus was locked on the other figure on the hill, a hulking male. He was in human form, but he was too tall, too muscular, too
everything
to be anything but a shifter. She zoomed in on his striking face, his ice-blue eyes seeming to glow.

A hand clamped down over her mouth, at the same time that a strong arm locked around her waist. Ginnifer was so engrossed in filming that she was briefly startled, even though she recognized Zane’s scent almost instantly. She nearly dropped her camera as he lifted her, carrying her away under one arm and not taking his hand from her mouth.

He was silent as he walked, and she wasn’t sure if that was because he was trying not to draw the attention of the other wolves, or if he was angry. He’d told her to be back before the snow picked up. It was a vague curfew, but with the branches of the trees already sagging beneath the weight of the snow, she knew she’d have a difficult time defending herself. She ran through a list of excuses, until she came up with one that was adequate, if not a little contrived, and she offered it the second her mouth was free.

“I would have been back sooner, but I was worried that if I moved, I’d draw the attention of those shifters.” And then, in hopes of redirecting him, she asked, “Who were they?”

“Amarok,” he said curtly.

It took her a few seconds to match the word with memory, but then it made perfect sense.

“Oh, yeah, the western pack. What are they doing here? Isn’t this your territory?”

“Yes,” he ground out.

Ginnifer couldn’t remember hearing him sound quite so angry, and she bit back her request to be put down.

The walk back was long, much longer than she remembered walking, and questions swarmed her mind. She tried to get a look at Zane’s face so that she could gauge his mood and see if it had improved, but his face was shrouded in darkness.

Everything was dark, she realized. Her eyes had adjusted to an extent, but with the last of the sunlight gone and the moon hidden behind the clouds, the world had been reduced to formless shadows. She was glad now that he was carrying her, because she never would have been able to navigate the dark forest on her own.

“I think that white wolf was bigger than Kuva,” she said. Anxiety made her fill the silence, even though Zane wasn’t responding. “The silver one, too. And that man, he was their alpha, wasn’t he? I wish I could have seen him shift, I’d bet he’s a gorgeous wolf.”