Chapter 4
Chapter Four
Kenai
She’d smelled good. I knew she would. When we’d met on the road, she’d been doused in that stuff humans called perfume. It had covered up her natural scent then, but today she’d been working, sweating—and smelled divine.
This was a bad idea.
I walked away from the ornament booth with quickly, trying to put distance between myself and the woman who’d just turned my entire world upside down. But even with several booths between us, I could still smell her, and it made me want to claim her on the spot.
It wasn’t forbidden, exactly. Humans and shifters had been bonding for centuries, though the unions were rare and often complicated.
But they never lasted. Humans and shifters just didn’t mix anymore.
They belonged to a world of glass towers and concrete, while we belonged to forests, and tundra, and the magic that came with them.
Eventually, the differences became too much—especially with the biological limitations of humans.
I’d seen it happen before. Had watched older clan members fall for human mates, only to mourn when they inevitably broke apart. It was why most of us avoided close contact with their kind during our trips to human settlements.
But Sylvie…
There was something about her that called to every instinct I possessed.
It wasn’t just her kindness, though the memory of her gentle hands tending my wounds still made my chest tighten with gratitude.
It wasn’t just her beauty, though the way her blonde hair caught the winter light made my fingers itch to run through it.
It was something deeper. The way she’d looked at me yesterday, exhaustion buried beneath that dry humor.
And she smelled like home.
Her natural scent was incredible—warm cinnamon and vanilla with an underlying sweetness that spoke of compatibility on the most primal level.
When she’d laughed at something I said, the sound had gone straight through me.
When she’d tilted her head, studying my face with those intelligent dark eyes, I’d had to fight the urge to lean closer and breathe her in properly.
Even if she had called me Rudolf. That fucking strikebreaker. But of course she didn’t know that, so I could forgive her.
She was whip-smart; I could tell. Strong, independent, clearly successful in her human world.
But underneath that professional competence, I’d caught glimpses of vulnerability—the exhaustion around her eyes, the tension in her shoulders that spoke of someone carrying too heavy a load for too long. I knew that well.
I wanted to ease that tension. Wanted to provide the support and protection her human world clearly wasn’t giving her. Wanted to show her what it felt like to be truly cared for by someone who understood the weight of responsibility.
Dangerous thinking.
I’d come here to ask for her help—to see if she was willing to believe what humans thought impossible—and then convince her she could help me with it.
I’d planned on meeting her at this market, not on the road last night.
And now I hadn’t even managed to discuss her taking on my case because I was losing control of myself.
I found a secluded spot and took a few deep breathes, trying to get a hold of myself.
It normally wasn’t hard for me to talk to beautiful women, but something about Sylvie had me second guessing every move I made.
I need this to be perfect. I can’t scare her away.
But even as the back of my mind warned me away from getting too close, my hand found its way into the pocket of my coat, and I wrapped the red ribbon she’d used to tie my bandages around my fingers.
Taimyr had teased me for keeping it. I think he could already tell I was taking far more than a professional interest in her.
I laughed softly to myself. He knew me too well.
“Well, well. If it isn’t the noble alpha of the Peary clan.”
That voice stopped me in my tracks, every muscle in my body tensing. I turned slowly to find an elderly woman watching me with bright, knowing eyes that held far too much intelligence for someone pretending to be a harmless human grandmother.
“Mrs. Claus,” I said quietly, making sure my voice didn’t carry to the families browsing nearby booths.
“Mrs. Patterson, if you please,” she replied with false sweetness. “I’m trying to maintain a certain image, dear.”
“What are you doing here?”
“The same thing you are, I imagine—keeping an eye on things. Making sure certain…interests are protected.” Her smile was sharp. “Though I have to say, the negotiations don’t seem to be going very well for your side.”
I gritted my teeth. She was right, damn her. The talks between the clans had stalled completely—Aleksi refusing to compromise on any point, and my own people growing more desperate by the day. Without unity among the subspecies, we had no leverage against the North Pole operation.
“What’s it to you?” I asked.
“Oh, my dear boy, everything that affects Christmas magic affects me. You should know that by now.” She adjusted her red wool shawl, the picture of innocent concern. “Such a shame when families can’t get along, don’t you think?”
“We’re not family.”
“We’re all family at the North Pole, serving the same greater cause.” Her eyes glittered with malicious amusement. “Though I suppose even families have their disagreements.”
“Cut to the chase,” I said. “What do you want?”
“Want? Nothing at all. I’m simply observing. Making note of…interesting developments.” Her gaze flicked toward the direction I’d come from, and my blood went cold. “That young woman you were talking to, for instance. Such a lovely girl. Very kind-hearted.”
“Stay away from her.”
“Oh, but I’ve already met her. Charming creature. So dedicated to her work, so stressed about family obligations. I gave her a little something to help her relax.” Her smile turned positively predatory. “My special holiday recipe.”
The words hit me like a winter storm. I could smell it now, underneath the general scents of the market—ancient magic, and not the good kind.
“What did you give her?” I demanded.
“Nothing harmful, I assure you. Just a little…enhancement. To help her see things more clearly.” Mrs. Claus’ laugh was like tinkling bells, sweet and cold. “You might want to check on her, though. The effects can be quite…intense.”
I was already moving before she finished speaking, roughly pushing through the crowd. Behind me, her laughter followed like frost on the wind.
I found Sylvie behind her stand, swaying slightly on her feet. Her face was flushed, breathing quick and shallow, and the scent that hit me when I got closer made my vision blur with sudden, overwhelming need.
The warm cinnamon and vanilla I’d smelled before had exploded—now it blocked out everything else. The mark on the back of my neck tingled like it had been kissed by an ice-cold breeze. And the part of me that was alpha knew the truth. Omega. Mine. But that was impossible. She was human.
“Kenai.” She looked at me, pupils blown wide. Her hands gripped my coat before I could stop her. “I like your costume.”
“My costume?” My confusion cut through the haze of her intoxicating scent.
“The antlers. You didn’t have them before. They look so real.”
She reached up and gently brushed her fingers along one.
This was not good. She could see through my glamour, and from her scent alone, she was going into heat. Full, supernatural, shifter-compatible heat.
And every unmated male within a fifty-mile radius was about to know it.
Fuck.