12
Gleb
She hasn’t met my gaze in four days without a glare of disdain.
I didn’t carry her from our temporary home to the site of her bus accident.
My heart broke as I watched her kneel on the beach, wailing louder than the roar of the surf.
She refused my hand when I offered to help her stand. If it weren’t for her lack of hunting equipment, I doubt she would accept food. Even without a full night, darkness surrounds us.
“Do the fishermen ever come ashore on this beach?”
She asks as the wind picks up her hair to make it dance around her face.
She won’t face me—even with the frozen spray blasting her in the face with each crash of the Arctic waves.
“No,”
I reply as I reach for her.
Better not.
My outstretched hand holds a lifetime of searching, yearning, and hoping for a future family.
I never thought my mate would replace my family…because I didn’t know them well enough in the first place, but I still held onto the concept of family. “Their boats would hit the rocks and sink. The current is too swift and the bottom too jagged.”
“Do you have a boat I could use to go to their fishing vessels?”
“No, I can’t be seen by people.
I don’t visit their boats.
When I need to hunt in the sea, I swim.”
“Asking you to swim with me that far is asking too much—”
“Nothing you could ask would be too much,”
I say, with my throat clogged with tears.
“It’s hard to admit I’m not strong enough to make the journey.
I’d freeze.
My limbs would lock. We would drown.”
“You know what? I love your honesty.
Not just appreciate it.
I freaking love it.
You could be sick of my shit, drop me off in the ocean, and go home. You could let me wander the Arctic until I freeze to death, but no, you stand beside me. You let me tantrum and beg to leave you, but always answer my questions honestly. Did you kill him? Yes. Can we swim to the boats? No.”
Her voice rises in pitch with each fevered sentence.
She pulls her hair where it’s escaped her fur cap.
Strands hang between her fingers when she rubs them over her face in frustration.
“I wanted to go south but stubbornly went in a random direction.
Now we’re back where we started—because you didn’t want to argue with me.
I asked for space, and you took me to my word.
You are so honest that you expect total honesty from me.”
Spinning to make her hair fan over her shoulders, she blasts me with her teary eyes.
Pain and anguish stab me.
“I haven’t been honest with you.
I’ve had enough space to last a lifetime. Chronically lonely. I don’t let people get close to me because of those who surrounded me in my childhood. Don’t trust anyone nice. They are after your money. But you aren’t a person, are you?”
She opens her arms as if laying her heart on the ground, but I don’t understand what she’s trying to say.
She lied when she talked about her life with the humans? She said her childhood was lonely…now she’s saying that she lied…because her childhood was lonely.
Something isn’t adding up.
What I wouldn’t do for one of my clansmen’s mates to translate?! Could Hannah be referring to the money she tried to give me when she awoke in my furs?
“I am Chuchunya.
I have no need for your green paper.
If I knew how to harvest it, I’d pick the plants clean to give you all the green papers on the Tundra—”
She throws her head back and laughs towards the sky.
The laughter isn’t funny or silly like her adorable giggles.
It is tinged with madness.
I guess she wasn’t referring to money… Would she accept my invitation to stay in my home? She loves to bathe… I bet my underground hot springs would recover her spirit. We could return to when I cared for her while she slept in my furs.
“Money doesn’t grow on trees…except if you come from my family.
Money solved all my parent’s problems except their habitual embarrassment caused by my existence.”
“My parents are gone—my brother too—”
I hold my palm up to silence her when she tries to inject that I’m guilting her “—your parents abandoned you.
Why can’t we be a family? Be lonely together or have a home full of kits?”
“That’s always been your end game,”
she sneers.
She marches past me to the south.
“I won’t be a broodmare.”
“I would follow you to the ends of the earth—wherever you want to go.”
“But?”
she calls over her shoulder without slowing down.
“Can I reload our supplies? I can see my northern home.
I won’ t have to hunt as soon if I can restock my bag.
I can bring fresh furs—”
“I don’t care what you do.
You aren’t my keeper.”
I stumble backward as if she slapped me.
My rejection of Sergei’s leadership is thrown in my face.
My heart cracks not only for my broken relationship with Hannah, but for cutting off Sergei.
He never did anything wrong…except stand in my way when I was out of control and making devastating mistakes. Could he have kept me from ruining my dushevnayasvyaz ? Jack was already dead.
I’d do anything for Sergei’s counsel on how to win Hannah’s heart…but to approach Sergei, I must have Hannah’s consent to be my mate…it’s a vicious cycle.
A whirlpool of disaster, one of my own making, that will be the death of me.
Hannah
Other than the minutes I spent loitering around the birch trees at the edge of the Tundra while Gleb fetched supplies from his home at record speed, he’s been glued to my side.
I would have dropped my ass and gone home days ago.
Waspish during the day and cuddling with him at night for warmth—yeah, right.
I stroke his hard muscles and soft fur like a security blanket.
I’ve been a contrary bitch.
I should hate Gleb for allowing Jack to drown.
I should hate Jack for provoking everyone who came close to me.
Unfortunately, I only hate myself for attracting ruthless people.
Most spiritual gurus would say I attract ruthless people because I am ruthless at my core…and possessive. How would I know I was as possessive as Gleb or Jack if I never had anyone to possess? Who was at fault for my doomed relationship with Jack? Me—for distrusting him at the core level—or him—for using affection as a weapon. While he’s not fixing our relationship in this lifetime, it’s important to know for my spiritual growth.
Speaking of growth, maybe I should start being nice to Gleb…instead of waiting for him to fall asleep to snuggle against his fur.
If I stop, I’m denying myself the comfort I crave.
If I keep up the way we have, I’m lying to him…when he’s honest to a fault.
Now to strike up a conversation…I need inspiration.
“Look, it’s the bryophytes!”
I drop to my hands and knees to brush the slush from the tiny plants.
Gleb and I exchange smiles as he lowers the bags to the ground.
This is just as good a place as any to rest.
A thicket of spindly birch trees obscures us from any casual passerby…in the desolate, frigid Tundra. Who am I kidding?
“This one has a heart-shaped flower,”
Gleb whispers as he picks a pink one.
It’s cartoonishly tiny in his massive hand.
I don’t know what possesses me, but I grab a tuft of fur over his belly and begin to braid it.
He freezes in place.
I forgot to ask for consent.
When our eyes meet, electricity crackles between us. I tuck the flower in the third plait. A purple flower goes in the fourth plait. I should have started further up. I reach his groin when I secure the fifth flower. I’m inches from the nest of hair covering a cock that can split me in half. My eyes lift to collect his reaction to my predicament.
“I’ve been horrible to you.”
“You’re sad and angry.
I understand.”
“The fact that you are still sweet to me makes it worse,”
I wail, before burying my face in his furry chest.
Sobs shake my body until he wraps me in his arms and pulls me onto his lap.
I have no right to accept comfort from him when I’m using him to reach civilization, but it feels so right.
My heart synchronizes with his slow, steady pulse.
I breathe long, deep breaths to try to match him. My period cramps release their grip on my legs. The tears dry up as fast as they came. Even my bones melt into his care.
We fit.
Possessed by a force larger than myself, I raise my chin to kiss him.
Damn his fangs.
I need to feel his mouth on mine more than I need air.
I’ll suffer twin cuts at the corners of my lips. The first hesitant touch is all me. My hands grasp his shoulders as I hoist myself high enough to press our lips together. His lips are soft, dry, and pleasantly warm. He presses me closer with his two large hands spread wide against my back.
Then he takes over and I cling to him for dear life.
His tongue is larger, wider than a human.
It fills my mouth but still has the dexterity to explore my teeth and dance with my much smaller tongue.
My lips stretch around his girth, giving me fantasies of stretching them around his cock.
Darts of pleasure and promises of future wickedness zip from my mouth to my clit, making my body sing with need. I grind against him, crushing my small breasts into my fursuit. Do I dare to take it off? Will I freeze?
I just… .omf .
“Oh no.
Oh God, I’m a heavy bleeder.
I’m so sorry.”
My body heats to inferno levels—with mortification, not arousal—when my period starts.
A bloody stain between my legs ruins my fursuit.
What’s worse is the smear of blood on his fur.
We are miles from a bathing pool, and I just leaked my period on his lap. I try to rub the stain away but smear it into a larger area. “I can’t believe this. First, I’m mean and then I—”
“I accept your apology for being mean,”
he says in a deep voice that calls all my cells to attention.
He pinches his fur between his thumb and forefinger to lift a bead of blood into his hand.
When he licks his fingers, I can’t breathe.
“But every fluid your body gives to mine is a gift.”
Okay, I wasn’t expecting that…but he is the man obsessed with me.
Is it a Chuchunya thing, a fated mate thing, or is he another weirdo attracted to me? Weirdos attract weirdos according to the laws of the Universe…which is why watching him lick my blood off his fingers is the hottest action I’ve ever witnessed.
If I wasn’t on my period, I’d jump him.
“A gift,”
I murmur in shock.
“Now it’s time for me to give you gifts,”
he says, returning to himself.
The arousal blinks free from his eyes.
He digs through his bag and lays a one-foot square of rabbit fur on my lap.
“This skin is to catch your bleed. I have your thinner human pants to wear while we smoke your fur suit. I must build a fire. Predators will track us if I don’t mask your scent.”
“I hate how you can smell me, and I smell bad.
It’s embarrassing.”
“Who said it was bad?”
Damn.
What did I do to deserve such devotion? This man—male—beast loves every cell in my body and provides for my monthly.
I thought a man buying tampons at the grocery store for his woman was hot.
Gleb takes this to the nth degree.
“I’ll leave you be,”
he says with a sheepish smile that melts my heart.
“Your face is the color of wild raspberries.
If I don’t stop, I may try to eat you.
Go change while I set up the fire.”
His double meaning isn’t lost on me, and my face burns brighter.
I give him a little wave because I’m too flustered for sweet words.
Instead of rising like a siren, I shrink into an insecure middle schooler.
Pointing at the thickest bush in our cover, I mumble, “I’ll just be—right here—then.”
Gleb
She kissed me.
Not an accidental brush of our faces or whimpering sips at my lips to ease her nightmares, my mate initiated a kiss.
What changed? Do I care? Ultimately, I got what I want—affection from my fated mate—so why question the Fates? My energy would be better spent building a smoking pit for her bloody suit and boiling more cramp bark tea.
I must ask her if her pains lessen or worsen when her bleeding starts.
Thank goodness, I prepared the rabbit skins when her pains first started.
The way she accepted it with gratitude and love in her eyes makes me wish to hunt every rabbit on this planet.
Finally, I think she realized how well I can provide for her.
The more time we spend together, the more I will anticipate her needs. I want to learn more about her habits—beyond her cycle—like what fruits and sweets she loves. I will fill our home with hazelnut spread, berry jam, or blubber for akutaq if she loves them.
My hands furiously dig a shallow pit as I dream of all I could collect to spoil her.
If she’s agreed to be mine, we can return to the clan on the southern grounds.
She can process herbs or join the group game-hunting to make friends.
I snap birch trees at ground level to burn in my new pit. Damn, there aren’t rocks to ring it. How can I cook fresh meat to celebrate without heated stones?
I shouldn’t snap all the trees in this spot.
Their cover makes my job of protecting her easier.
While I love my mate’s fiery hair, it attracts attention—too easy for sight predators like bears and wolves to focus on.
Leaving Hannah alone makes my heart race, but the second stand of trees isn’t out of my line of sight—plus her hair. No matter how hard I search for a flaw, I always find a way to love everything about Hannah.
All right, these thinner twigs will burn much faster.
I’ll tuck them in a pyramid of the wider birch I broke at the campsite.
Wait, who’s that? A human? Out here? He isn’t dressed like the First Nations people who share this land with its creatures.
What’s behind him? A flashy red shelter…
“Yeah, Lydia, just give me a few more days.
Hannah didn’t go far.
She doesn’t have one survival skill.
With any luck, I’ll find her corpse.”
I tuck myself into a ball and walk backward on my knees into the thickest trees.
The man has his back to me.
He’s slim and soft.
With the element of surprise, I can take him. The Chuchunya way is to hide, but I haven’t options. We are exposed. Our clan migrates between underground caverns but doesn’t wander the Tundra aimlessly—except for Artyom and Vera.
Why didn’t I spend time wandering with Artyom to learn what I should do in this situation?
“Aww, baby, we knew this summer would be hard.
Do you think I enjoy chasing the bitch around the freakin’ Arctic when I have you at home? Hannah’s our ticket to financial freedom.
You’ve got to stick it out for a few more weeks.
Once I get her back to the States, we’ll be set for life. No more student loans and creditors. We’re so close—no waiting for her to pop out a kid—to making our dreams come true. Double reward money means we’ll be rolling in it. I’m talking mansions, sports cars—what? Yes, baby, all the designer purses you want. You remember those purses until I get home. Love you too,”
he says, followed by kissing noises into his star-finder box.
Jack.
I rock onto my ass in surprise.
All the guilt I’ve carried grows into rage burning in my belly.
Not only did he survive, but he’s got a plan to trap Hannah.
Why can’t he leave her alone if he has another mate whom he talks to through his star-finder box? I knew he was stupid. He doesn’t see how Hannah is superior to any other woman. Svoloch doesn’t deserve Hannah’s attention. I wasn’t sorry for killing him before, only sorry Hannah was sad. Now I’d dance on his corpse.
“Even better if I can knock her ass up.
Child support, here I come,”
he sings to himself.
He makes a loud popping sound with a metal object before lifting it to his lips.
It must be full of liquid because his throat undulates over his jacket collar as he drinks.
My palms itch with the desire to squeeze that throat until his eyes pop out .
“Gleb?”
Hannah’s whisper scares the vengeance from my mind.
I shush her and pull her onto my lap.
Tucking her under my arm, I cover her hair with my fur for camouflage.
Her heart beats furiously with shallow breaths, blowing hot air on my belly.
She’s scared…but not as frightened as I am. Jack is the only male on earth with the power to take Hannah away from me. I denied her the ability to choose me before, and I can’t make the same mistake again.
“Jack’s alive,”
she whispers in awe.
He stands and throws his metal object into the trees across from us.
His chuckles as birds take flight and rodents scurry away from his projectile inflame my insides.
He’s cruel.
I thought maybe the terror of floating out to sea in the Arctic made him wish to sacrifice the kit for his safety, but now I see him without duress.
He acts the same.
“Hannah, where the hell did you escape to?”
He asks the question with his back to us, but Hannah tenses under my grip.
“How did you slip through my fingers?”
“I have to tell him.”
Her fists tug the fur over my heart as if she’s clawing her way to take it.
“I can’t let him search forever.”
He won’t search forever.
His other female won’t allow him.
Hannah’s poisonous money isn’t enough for Jack to stay during the zima season.
I’ll bet my fur on it. His flimsy shelter is not built for the endless blizzards. He has no mechanical lights for the endless darkness. Jack is a temporary irritant, no more annoying than the mosquitos and fruit flies on the southern grounds.
I swing Hannah into my arms and walk backward to our camp on my knees.
Her fur suit lays folded beside my pile of kindling.
I don’t feel like lighting a fire with Jack so close.
We must run!
“How he spends his life isn’t any concern of mine—”
“Because you tried to take his life.”
“He’s alive, so I am absolved.
Don’t you agree?”
I fold my arms across my chest to mimic her pose.
When she nods, I add, “His life is no longer tethered to my soul.”
“But he took care of me for years—”
“In your home, where you worked and gathered your own food.
You told me of your arrangement.
You didn’t know better before, but can’t you see how taking care of someone is more than what he did for you? What I can offer you?”
“What you offer?”
“Yes! Forget him and choose me.
Choose to be my mate and love me.
We can rejoin the clan.
I can introduce you to the doctorates and the Chuchunya they love. You will love my three homes, or I’ll do everything in my power to change them to make you happy. All you have to do is choose me.”
“I owe you for the time we shared—”
“I don’t want what you owe me.
I want you to admit you belong at my side.”
“I can’t with Jack wandering around in subzero temperatures.
He’s not a rough-it kind of guy.
I don’t know how he survived this long.
It’s cruel to allow him to search for me when I’m right here—safe and sound.”
“Hannah? Am I hearing things? Hannah? Was that your voice?”
“Choose.”
My whisper is cloaked in a growl.
All Timor’s fears materialize before my eyes.
Doesn’t Hannah realize that Jack seeing me gives away the Chuchunya secret? We saved the people from the accident because that was a life or death situation where they won’t trust their memories.
Even she thought I was a man in a suit after seeing me up close for days.
She was too traumatized to trust her eyes. Jack isn’t traumatized right now. If he sees me again, I can’t let him go. I don’t trust him to keep our secret.
I put the entire clan in jeopardy.
I trusted her.
“Don’t be ridiculous,”
she says with an eye roll.
She turns her back on my breaking heart and cups her hands around her mouth.
The sweet mouth I just kissed is about to betray me.
“Jack? Jack! I’m over here. Give me a second and I will come to you!”
I guess she chose…