Fox’s Dawn: A Foxy Reverse Harem Shifter Romance (Foxes of the Midnight Sun Book 1)

by K. R. Alexander

  Again, I couldn’t hear Demik. I kept glancing back, imagining the feel of white fuzz, then down to my new gifts, heart light.

  I couldn’t stop smiling, taking it all in as we began to walk with Komu once more. Mej followed us out.

  Boots, shoes, leather gloves and belts called from a window across the street. I turned off the board sidewalk.

  Demik, who had hold of my arm, swung me into the air and pulling me back. “You’re not listening.” His voice was sharp. I wasn’t sure if he was angry or afraid. “If you’ll focus on one thing at a time you can get through.”

  “Not to rest judgments on your den,” Mej said, “but she looks mighty focused and happy to me.”

  “Happy as a nest-building bird,” Komu said.

  Demik ignored them, holding me tight. “Down one side of the street, then the other. No running across. You need clothes, personal things. Down here. In, out. I’ll stay right with you.” Words strained, pinched off, breathless.

  I squeezed his hand, let him lead me, pressing close to show I was there, that everything would be all right. Just like he’d showed me the day before.

  I wasn’t good at it the way Demik had been. As soon as we found the ready-made tailor, I had to let him go. Feeling, sniffing, I took in the colors and cloths. I saw more and brighter colors with these eyes than I had in fur. Demik’s hands were shaking by the time we got into the tailor’s shop.

  Mej and Komu helped with my choice of a moss-green dress. Then a woman helped with undergarments and stockings, and even picked out handkerchiefs for me, while the males waited. She spoke English and mimed, which worked well. Mej pitched in on occasion, saying something to her, or to me in Vulpen.

  The woman wrapped it all up in a brown paper parcel tied with twine. I could not stop feeling my way around. Mej gave the man at the counter something from his pouch, which the man weighed out on a pair of brass scales. He watched these carefully, eyes narrowed.

  The man wrote out a slip of paper and handed it to Mej with a curt nod. His back was rigid, chin lifted. He hadn’t said a word to Mej, or any of us since we’d come in. Only the woman smiled as she passed the parcel to Komu and said something that might have been a … greeting? No … a good evening? Something like that. I thanked her in Vulpen as well as I could, mostly nodding and smiling.

  “Do you like licorice?” Komu asked once we were walking again.

  “Licor…?” I couldn’t think what it was, much less say it.

  “We’re not here for sweets,” Demik snapped. He was sweating.

  I took his hand again, meaning to ask if he was all right, then spotted the next window display of dead grouse and a whole deer’s head. And there, in pride of place, a jar filled with sharp little hooves in a pinkish liquid. My mouth watered on sight, even without smell. I would save them for being fur and give each of the four of us as many as we could chew.

  I snatched for the knob handle to get at the jar of pink hooves.

  Demik yanked my hand away.

  “Can’t go in there,” Mej said in Vulpen as he herded us on down the sidewalk.

  “Can’t…?” I looked from him to the jar, already imagining my long, sharp teeth crunching down on that trotter. Must remember to open the jar before putting on fur.

  Mej pointed to a paper sign stuck inside the window glass.

  I squinted at it. That did no good at all. Black marks on paper. I shook my head.

  “‘No Indians,’” Mej translated. “Come on.”

  “Means?” I asked, casting one more longing glance to the jar as we moved along.

  “It means no Indians are allowed in that shop.”

  I had to shift my gaze to Mej as the chewy hooves vanished behind us. “Us?”

  “As far as they’re concerned. They think we’re Hän or Tutchone. All the same to them.”

  “Very many?” I looked up and down the street for more little white signs as several laughing, drunken men pushed past us on the boards, heading the opposite way.

  “Indians or signs?” Mej asked. “This used to be prime hunting ground for all of us. Caribou herds would cross the river here. Being in the flats at the right time of year could mean the difference between surviving the winter or starving—both for us and human tribes like the Hän. Of course, we’ve all been driven out and the caribou don’t come anymore. White men aren’t bothered by trivial matters like that when there’s gold in the ground.”

  I shook my head. “Signs.”

  “Oh.” Mej shrugged. “A few. Not bad now. Most are like our friend the tailor. They’re exactly greedy enough to want our dust more than they despise us enough to turn it down.”

  “Dust?” I asked.

  “Gold dust.” Mej tapped the pouch on his belt. “Dawson City, now the whole Yukon region, is run on gold. We don’t trade much anymore. We have to pay for what we want from a poke.”

  “Here we are,” Komu pointed from under his parcel. “Frank welcomes all.”

  Demik stopped with me, though Mej was already pulling open the door, setting a bell jingling. I just had time to catch sight of rows of glass jaws in the window, all full of many-colored marbles, and the blissful scent of sugar, honey, and spices, when I had to turn my attention to Demik. He was backing away, pulling me along the sidewalk.

  “Demik?”

  “You should go. It’s been more than a small visit already. You got your dress.”

  “Boots?” I started.

  “You don’t need boots now. You have moccasins. If you stay out of this place that’s all you need for the summer.”

  “Ease up, Demik. Let her go in the chemist’s.” Komu smiled, tone soothing.

  “We didn’t come to this blasted black scourge to buy candy!” Demik almost shouted. He snatched the parcel from Komu’s hands, tucking it under his arm, and yanked my arm with him as he held on tight above my elbow.

  I staggered, catching his shoulder to keep from falling as I followed.

  “Hold it,” Mej said. “Who’s the one who’s upset here? You go home, pal. Leave her with us. Demik! Let her go!”

  Demik did not let go. Or stop.

  “It’s going to be all right,” he told me, yanking me along while I struggled to keep step.

  “Demik…?”

  “You’ll be fine. We’ll get you home. You got your dress.”

  “Wait!” Mej ran up as we dodged humans on the sidewalk.

  “No,” I called back to him, shaking my head. “See you … home.”

  I held Demik, making sure not to fall, jogging from the city while Demik assured me over and over that he would look after me, that everything would be all right.

  Chapter 17

  Out of the city, sometimes walking into the sun, squinting as we followed the Yukon River, we rushed on in silence.

  I moved my grip to holding Demik’s hand, watching his face as much as the dazzling, glowing landscape of mountains, river, forest, and open brush.

  We left the camps and sprawling mines behind, then the noise, finally the smells. We listened to sounds of the river, our own footfalls, and own breaths.

  We were home—a few barks from dogs, then just wagging tails, before either of us spoke again.

  I went with Demik to his den, where he finally pulled away, looking around distractedly. He handed over my parcel, which I pulled to my chest. With nowhere to run anymore he didn’t seem to know what to do.

  He rubbed his hands together like he was cold, or trying to clear off sweat, rubbed the back of his neck instead, looked off across the settlement toward the river, shook his head.

  “I … I didn’t want you to be upset there. It’s scary if you’ve been living in the forest all your life…” He glanced at me.

  I only stared back into his eyes, silent.

  Demik looked away. “You weren’t … scared.”

  “No.”

  “I’m sorry,” he said softly. “It’s only…” He paused, looking the other way, back south. “I hate that place.”


  “You didn’t … have to…”

  “I couldn’t let you go in there alone. Sorry…”

  “Mej and Komu.”

  Demik snorted, turned, paced, came back. “Hardly responsible escorts.” He stopped, pinched his eyes with his thumb and first finger, and took several deep breaths through his mouth.

  I set the package on the board entrance to the den and stepped forward to hug him.

  Demik gasped, then caught himself and returned the embrace, tight, holding on as if one or the other of us were drowning.

  “I just…” His voice cracked. “You don’t know what they’re like. Those people. That place… Those men are brutes, utter savages. The way they treat us—even each other. They whip their animals. They beat and rape females and treat them like part of a different species—that males are higher and females are lower. What they’re capable of … who they are … not in special circumstances, but always … you have no idea. And I don’t want you to know.”

  He pulled back, taking my face in both hands, looking into my eyes, his own wet, chest rising and falling on rough breaths. “That city is a horror. They won’t rest until they’ve destroyed Earth Mother and all her creatures, including us. Including themselves. I’m sorry. You just wanted to see it. There’s nothing wrong with a new dress or a toy. Mej and Komu and others deal with them every day. But I couldn’t have someone like you … in a place like that…”

  I pulled his face into my shoulder once more and held on, wrapping my arms around his neck below tied-back hair.

  I held on while he pressed my shoulders. Minutes passed.

  Demik pulled away. Breaths steady, he gave me the four wooden spinning tops. I smiled at the rainbow in my cupped hands, but tucked them into my paper parcel. It could all wait until tomorrow for my attention.

  “Do you … want to change?” Demik rubbed the back of his neck once more. “Sniff the area, stretch out? You’ve been in skin a long time now after … all…” He swallowed.

  Would he change too? He didn’t seem pleased by the idea.

  I wanted to sniff him like that more than anything. Yet I felt so tired even if I changed with him what I really wanted was to curl up. Worse, though, I was afraid to change again. It had been so awful last time—my coming of age after my birth from the river—I was scared to try. What if I got stuck? What if I couldn’t talk to Demik anymore?

  I shook my head, told him I was tired. Instead, I put my gifts away in the den, visited the outhouses among the birch trees, then washed at the basin of cold water back in the den.

  Demik was gone. We’d had supper before we’d left for town, yet he likely went visiting—telling his family we’d returned safely. I still wondered what apple pie was.

  I tried to undress and go to bed, to unwrap myself like my parcel, but got no further than naked feet. Mej had laced and tied the dress so tight to make it fit I could not undo the loops at my back on my own.

  I sat on Demik’s bed and practiced sentences with careful lip and tongue movements while I waited. “How are you today? Yes, thank you. Have you seen a silver fox?”

  The night sun had drifted closer to the horizon by the time he returned, smelling of fresh wood smoke. He’d been at the fires—which kept the endless work of smoking, preserving, and tanning going as well as heating water and driving away mosquitoes.

  He smiled to see me, yet looked so tired. “Still sure you want to stay here? You can—”

  I stood and turned my back to him. “I can’t reach.”

  “Of course.” He helped, avoiding touching me, but focused on the laces, quite unlike Mej’s constant, casual touch. Demik’s approach made me uncomfortable—worried once more that he didn’t want to be with me, afraid I’d done something to trouble him.

  “What did they speak?” I asked carefully. “English?”

  “Oh … sorry. You don’t speak English, do you?”

  “I … don’t know.”

  “Did it sound familiar? Mej was using English with them. You understood with Ondrog, right? When we spoke Tanana? He doesn’t know much Vulpen, and we don’t know much Lucannis.”

  I nodded.

  Demik worked his fingers up the laces, gradually loosening each row. “Don’t worry about it. They speak French, Chinese—many tongues in Dawson. Just like we speak different Na-Dene tongues. There’s no need for you to know them, or English.”

  Yet it would help if I wanted to visit more…

  I only nodded again. “Do you…? Paper?”

  “Read? A bit. Mej can read, and he’s taught Komu. He’ll teach you if you like.”

  I smiled at that, fresh warmth in my chest for him. Mej thought Demik wouldn’t like the three of us together, yet Mej was wrong. Demik wanted what I wanted. As long as what I wanted kept clear of humans.

  He stepped back. “I’ll let you change. If you want to?”

  I remained standing, waiting for him to help me out of the dress. It had to pull off over my head and wouldn’t be easy to do alone.

  “Demik?” I looked over my shoulder at him. “Why … don’t you want me here?”

  “I do want you here.” He sounded startled, answering too fast.

  “You don’t.”

  “I do. I promise. I’ve never met anyone like you. You’re a blessing sent by Earth Mother and River Brother. Whether we find your family tomorrow or you stay seasons, forever, you’ve already…” He seemed to be struggling to get his breath. “I love you. Of course I want you here.”

  I kept silent, looking to my own twig-like hands, thinking of last night, his driving me away again and again.

  Demik also hesitated. I heard his breaths behind me in the small space, lit by sunlight on the hide walls. A warm glow filled the den like my feelings for sight, smell, or sound of him. Nowhere near matching how I felt for the touch or taste of him.

  “It’s…” Demik started at last, still faltering.

  At the same time, I said, “Then what did I do wrong?” Coming out clear, having shaped the words on my lips before I spoke.

  “Oh, no, you never did a thing wrong. Nothing.” He finally stepped back and held my shoulder. “Please don’t think that. Don’t you understand? You’re a newcomer who needs help. For me to invite you to my bed rather than you being a guest of the clan is worse than presumptuous. It’s taking advantage of you and your troubles for what I want.”

  I turned to meet his eyes, looking up as he now stood so close. “What do you want?”

  “I want to be with you,” he said under his breath. “You should know that already.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “Because you’ve been in fur too long. We’re not total foxes. We have our own values—what’s honorable, what’s appropriate. If we were in fur, that might be different—curling up the moment you meet someone.”

  I struggled to watch his eyes while Demik looked at the glowing wall, then shoulder seam of the yellow dress.

  “I’m hurting you,” I said quietly.

  “What? No, of course—”

  “Your honor? Making you … uncomfortable.” I swallowed. “I’ll go.”

  “You don’t have to.” He met my eyes, touching my shoulder again. “I told you, I want you here more than anything. I want you here so much … that’s what scares me. I just wanted you to see. We spend too much time in skin these days, thinking too much. We can’t live how we used to on instinct and impulse. Everything is interaction with humans now, trade and log homes and gold—when we once relied on our own teeth and skills.” He shook his head. “Again, I’m sorry. You’re the one I admire. You’re the real fox. I’m only … confused about where I’m going, how to live…”

  I watched him, fingertips tracing his jaw. The grief in his eyes broke my heart.

  “When did it happen to you?” I asked.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Like me? When did you … forget who you are?”

  Demik gazed back into my eyes while many heartbeats passed between us. Then he
raised both hands to my face and kissed me.

  Chapter 18

  The kiss was dawn and summer breezes, a drumbeat and a dance. Still, I had to explain to Demik that I needed help before he would pull the dress off over my head.

  When I stood in nothing but the thin shift, he stepped away—ready to leave again. Without reaching the flap, he returned. He kissed me a second time. He pressed in so hard my lips hurt, digging into my teeth. All fire and joy to make my heart race and feet weightless. I opened my mouth for his tongue.

  Here was memory like the memory of bruises in my own body, or pain in my head, healed from my changing into skin. Memory of touches: mouth, hands, skin against mine. New sensations: heat, aching for him, pulse beating through me, tingling everywhere while it settled in my chest and between my legs. I’d found my family.

  Demik pulled away abruptly, as if shoved, panting. “I should probably…” He backed to the flap, ready to step outside, then returned to me. Now he touched down my body—back, hips, belly, arms, breasts. I leaned in, sure he must stay this time, proud of him for letting himself do such a thing, proud of his instincts coming back to him.

  “I shouldn’t be … pushing you,” he gasped.

  Still so restless? Was it me? Was he confused about what it meant when I returned his kisses, leaned into his hands, embraced his body? Did he think it was avoidance in the caress of my fingers? Distaste in the feel of my tongue on his?

  New confusion made me hesitate with him.

  Demik faced me, two steps apart, clenching and unclenching his fists as if to stretch his arms, give himself something else to think about. A film of sweat painted his brow. The front of his deerskin trousers bulged. His eyes were unfocused.

  “Demik?”

  He twitched.

  “What do you want?” I’m not sure he heard me. “What do you think … I want?” I stepped back, knowing better than to approach a nervous fox. Only moving away could be enticing.

  “You—” He cleared his throat, took a step toward me. “I said I’d look after you.”

  “Then do—”

  “No, but—” Shaking his head. “The way I’m behaving is just the sort of male I want to protect you from.”