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

by K. R. Alexander

  Chapter 34

  The bear was a juvenile, probably only lived through a couple of winters, weighing 400 or 500 pounds, with a scruffy coat and tiny black eyes roving through trees to spot the source of the noise. Mostly, he used his quivering nose to pin them down.

  Very slowly, with Komu following, Ondrog kept walking Summit toward Demik. She gazed at the bear, fascinated and unafraid.

  The grizzly blinked nearsightedly at the movement. He stood on his hind legs, lifting his line of sight seven feet in the air, puzzling them out. Could they be eaten or not?

  Ondrog joined Demik, who stood still, heart hammering.

  Still wide-eyed, Komu took charge of Summit. Hand at her shoulder, he went on after Mej.

  Ondrog remained motionless until she was clear of them, moving away, and the bear had thumped to all fours.

  It seemed the encounter was over. Curious, but uninspired, the grizzly shuffled in place, still weaving his head to watch them.

  The foxes crept away. Demik and Ondrog backed up to follow.

  Then, apparently in a snap decision, the young bear charged for Komu and Summit, paws hammering into earth like drumbeats.

  Demik jerked the butt of the rifle into his shoulder, cocking it.

  Ondrog whistled, throwing up both hands, one with his rifle, making himself huge.

  The grizzly’s head snapped around, his attention caught. Instead of stalling, he kept coming, only changing directions slightly.

  Ondrog shouted at him in Lucannis, telling him to go, moving forward in the face of the new rush, though the bear was now closing from less than twenty yards.

  Demik sighted, following thundering paws. He pulled the nose down, squeezed off, and the bang and slam of recoil almost made him miss the outcome with everything happening so fast.

  The bullet smacked into earth just before the mighty paws. The bear stopped in the spray of dust and grit, rearing back once more onto hind legs. He squinted at Ondrog, who had also aimed his rifle, still stepping forward.

  Just go, Demik willed the grizzly, his breaths rattling in his lungs as he faced the bear. Such a waste. Go. Don’t hurt us. We won’t hurt you.

  The huge animal’s beady eyes fixed on Ondrog. He dropped back to all fours, yet seemed unconvinced. His ears twitched. His nostrils puffed.

  Demik worked the lever, sighted again, and squeezed the trigger.

  Ground exploded into the bear’s face in a spray of earth and rotten leaves. This time he jumped back, snorting, looking around uncertainly.

  Ondrog growled, now ten yards from him, rifle ready.

  The grizzly, with the same suddenness as when he’d first charged, turned. He shuffled off, stopped, looked back, snorted, then loped away, soon out of sight, heading for the river.

  Ondrog lowered his rifle. Demik took several slow breaths as he shouldered his, pulse still speeding, now smelling musk of the bear in the forest around them.

  “Wait!”

  Demik looked back.

  Summit was weaving through the trees. Komu, who had called out, grabbed her arm.

  “The bear was doing something.” She pointed, looking to the deer path, still unfazed.

  Ondrog sighed.

  Demik shivered, chilled as much by Summit’s fearlessness as by the close call.

  Mej trotted back to them, glancing from the restrained Summit to Demik. Ondrog dismissed them, already starting on.

  “It was a solitary male,” Demik addressed Mej. “Shouldn’t be any others around. Safe for a quick look…?”

  Summit smiled at him.

  Demik didn’t make eye contact. When had he become such a cowered? Why not drag her away from here, follow Ondrog, leave bears and curiosity behind? But, no, that wouldn’t earn him a smile.

  Mej didn’t seem to mind. While Komu was muttering apologies for having been stupid enough to speak and attract the grizzly in the first place, and Summit was pulling away from him, Mej crept to the deer path.

  Ondrog looked around, sighed again, and returned to join Demik as they, with the others, approached Mej. He alerted, head lifting, ears pricked, but did not seem agitated. He glanced at them. Demik tread carefully up behind him until he spotted the lynx.

  The big cat was gray, shaded in buff and white, with long tufted ears, a short tail, and gigantic paws out of proportion to its body. One of those hind paws was held in the deadly grip of a trap, fixed into the ground with a chain and peg driven in.

  This was not trapping season. The lean creature’s thin coat bore witness. Trappers hunted in the winter, running traplines on snowshoes or with teams of dogs pulling their sleds with frozen bodies of their victims. So this was leftover, a forgotten trap.

  The lynx, who must have been struggling as the bear sniffed around it, lay gasping, spent, flat on the ground with the one hind leg stretched out behind, the rest of the body bunched together.

  Demik backed off, still catching his own breath with the others.

  Ondrog frowned at the cat, then turned away. “You have the short barrel.”

  Demik nodded. His rifle was better for close range than the wolf’s. He reloaded and half-cocked it.

  “No more bears around?” Komu was antsy, not interested in the lynx, but looking in all directions. He addressed Mej, who sniffed along the path, pivoting his ears to listen.

  They had only paused a moment, taken in the scene, the gasping cat, the slashed ground where it had fought for freedom for days. Ondrog walking away; Komu watched Mej sniff down the trail, Demik readying his rifle. Then Demik heard the scuffle, yowl, and a yelp.

  He spun, fumbling with the rifle. Had something leapt out at them that Mej missed?

  But it was the lynx, now very much awake, snarling, lashing out while Summit sprang away. She tumbled to the ground while Ondrog and Demik ran to her.

  Chapter 35

  The lynx yowled, spat, and flatted itself over the hurt leg and trap, eyes filled with fury and terror born of pain.

  Blood streamed down Summit’s arm, coating her elbow and forearm in seconds. Dripping off her hand it splashed to the forest floor. Those claws had hit her hard, from close range, and Demik was stunned as much as horrified by the sight. How could it happen?

  “What were you doing?” His voice angry, shaking as he dropped the rifle and grabbed her, pulling her away from the chained cat. “Are you trying to get hurt out here?”

  Summit recoiled from his tone, yet never drew her gaze from the lynx. Her eyes swam with tears. She didn’t even seem to notice her arm.

  “We have to set her free…” Her voice trembled.

  “You were … trying to free it?” Demik watched the blood, feeling sick. “You need to change. You can heal.”

  Komu bounded over, taking the rolled bandana from his own neck and kneeling to wrap it around her arm.

  Summit tried to pull away, more upset by the second, though not by them or her injury. “Please let her go. She can’t be in a cage. Demik, please—”

  “She’s not in a cage. She’s in a trap. And we can’t let her go. She has a broken foot. We’ll put her out of her misery—”

  “No!” Summit screamed as if he’d hit her, making Demik jump back. “Let her go! We have to!”

  Komu still gripped her arm and the bandana, but also leaned away.

  “Summit, she’ll die anyway,” Demik tried to force his voice to calm. “Letting her go would only prolong—”

  “She has kittens. She can try. It might not be broken.” Tears were streaming down her face. She looked desperately up at Demik and Ondrog beside him. “Please, please, Demik. Let her go. Don’t let her die in a cage. Please … at least she has a chance… If she’s going to die anyway … let her die free.” She was struggling through the tears, voice shattered. “No one should be in a cage. Please, don’t—” Desperate, she looked to Komu, even Mej in his fur. “Please… Please let her go.”

  They stared at her, sobbing by then, ignoring her own wounds.

  Demik swallowed. “You need t
o change.”

  “Please…”

  “Change and heal, all right? And we’ll … let her go.” He knelt, kissed her hair, his own chest aching for her, his throat tight as he spoke. “Understand you need to change?”

  She nodded.

  “It’s all right.” He rubbed her back and bent to kiss tear tracks on her face. “We’ll let her go. Komu will help you with your clothes so you can change.”

  “That’s deep,” Komu murmured, holding her bloody arm, the bandana already soaked. “Come on. Up and change, right?”

  “Go on with Komu.” Demik tried to suggest with his own movements and touches that she should stand.

  Summit sat there, gulping, watching the lynx. “Free her. She can’t be in a cage.”

  Demik could again only stare, more than tormented by her hurt, but baffled, scared, desperate for an explanation. What part of this message did he follow?

  Summit had to come first, which meant getting her to change, to take care of herself, but she would not be moved to do any such thing until she saw that lynx freed. Freedom, in this case, meant a long, suffering death: infection, raging fever, a crippled animal unable to hunt. What difference did it make if she returned to kittens only to die with them? They would be weaned by now, if still alive, but dependent on her for meat. Feed them with her body?

  Demik stood, met Ondrog’s eyes, then had to drop his own gaze. He cleared his throat. “Can you … use the nose of the rifle for a pry?”

  “While the cat casts her body against the trap?” Ondrog asked. “It’s torture—”

  “I know.” Demik dropped his voice in the face of the wolf’s anger. “We have to try anyway. It is possible the foot’s not broken. She might … have a chance…” Glancing to the narrowed eyes. “What do you suggest?”

  “That mercy defies ignorant and sentimental whims,” Ondrog snapped.

  “Mercy for whom?” Demik looked at him directly.

  At his feet, Summit sniffed and trembled, still watching the trapped lynx while Komu talked to her, his hands covered in her blood. She would not move.

  Ondrog glared back into Demik’s eyes, his jaw set.

  Demik stepped past him. “Mej?” He took a breath. “Keep her occupied?”

  Although the wolf refused to help, Demik soon saw the trap’s jaws were too close for a pry anyway. He had to use his bare hands, gripping cold metal clamped above the hind foot. He’d opened human’s traps before. A simple enough procedure when they were unoccupied. He had to exhort pressure on the sliding sidebar that clamped the teeth together. Doing this while also prying them from the furry limb, all while they were moving and jerking in his hands, was another matter.

  Mej badgered and screamed at the lynx, right in her face, mouth wide, dancing into her range. Even so, she whirled on Demik several times and he had to jump back and start again. Though he was clawed, they were nicks compared to Summit’s wound.

  One time too many Mej darted in, yelling in her face, and the lynx finally landed a ringing blow to his head with a paw like a club. Yelping, Mej was sent spinning into a birch trunk on his back. Just in time. Demik had the jaws forced open and, in the same lunge that she used to pound Mej, the cat felt the absence of that tether and exploded away. She sprinted through the forest on three legs, soon out of sight.

  Mej staggered to his paws, shaking his head, his ear bloody.

  Demik returned to Summit, who hadn’t budged—certainly hadn’t changed—but smiled up at him through her tears. He sank to his knees, heart pounding from the close encounter with a lynx trying to rip his hands off, but even more alarmed to see the state of her. She looked dazed, some of the color drained from her face.

  “You’ll change now?” He stroked her hair. “Right away.”

  “Thank you.” She hugged him with her good arm. “Nothing should be in a cage.”

  “She wasn’t—” Demik stopped himself. “No, you’re right. Nothing should be in a cage.” He kissed her. “She’s free now. She’ll go back to her kittens.”

  Summit nodded, holding on tight to him.

  “You must be remembering something. Did you see an animal caged up?”

  She shook her head.

  “What was it then?”

  “I don’t know. She … didn’t want to be in a cage…”

  “Summit? Please change. You have to change.”

  It took her a minute, Demik helping with her moccasins and untying the belt, Komu holding her wrapped arm.

  At last, she changed inside the rest of her clothes, her arm shrinking and twisting away from Komu so all he had left was the bloody cloth.

  The silver fox climbed from the neck of her own tunic. Demik helped to stroke the clothing back from her. She crept into his lap where he rested on his knees.

  Demik sat back, pulling her into his arms. She was so beautiful. He’d never before known a silver fox. Her coat, mostly black, flecked in white on her body to give a silver shade, was relatively thin, much of the undercoat shed out. This bore witness to the fact that she had lived all spring in her fur. It made it possible for Demik and Komu to part the fur along her foreleg to see gray skin. Beads of blood seeped out as Demik felt over the area.

  “It’s mostly closed but you’ll need to change again.” Demik kissed her ear, which happened to be against his chin. “Later. Wait and catch your breath first.”

  She stretched a paw toward Mej, who had walked over, panting until his tongue curled. It was the warmest day of the summer so far. No time for a midday lynx battle.

  His cheek was bloody from a trickle running down his ear. Thick fur had saved him from taking a more serious injury at the side of his head.

  “He’ll change too,” Demik assured her, releasing the limb to stroke her back while she leaned on him. “Komu, can you trade with him? We need someone in fur for bears.”

  “You haven’t had a turn—” Komu started, angry, but stopped himself. Watching Summit snuggling into Demik’s chest, Komu nodded.

  Chapter 36

  It was a quarter of an hour for changing, repacking, getting dressed for Mej, before they set out again. Then it wasn’t for long.

  They only walked a few more miles upriver, away from the trapline path, out of the birch forest to a long, rolling, open valley of heather and wildflowers where grazing elk bolted at the sight of them.

  Demik carried Summit all the way. Mej took his rifle, smoking and following Demik without a word about the lynx or bear. The vixen draped herself in his arms, apparently dozing while his body and the endless sun heated her dark pelt.

  Despite flies and mosquitoes they stopped in open lowland beside the river for a nap.

  Mej kept trying to catch Demik’s eye. Demik waited for Ondrog to get a drink and settle down with his pack under his head, headband pulled off and draped over his eyes, rifle beside him.

  Komu stood at the edge of the river, the bank level and rocky here, snapping mosquitoes.

  Demik carried Summit to the wolf, setting her gently beside him.

  She blinked groggily around, yawned with a tiny squeaking sound, and smiled up at Demik with her mouth open and her pink tongue showing. Her eyes were soft yellow, contrasting richly with her black fur.

  “Rest a while,” Demik murmured. “Whenever you’re ready, change back, finish healing, and we’ll go on.”

  She flicked her brush in a chipper little wag as she climbed atop Ondrog’s chest. She turned in a tight circle, forming a neat ball with her brush around herself as she settled down on him.

  Demik stroked her sun-warm fur once, then walked down the rock bank to sit with Mej at the glittering water’s edge. Mej, on a flat stone with his forearms crossed on his knees, watched past Demik to where he’d left Summit.

  Demik pulled off his moccasins

  Mej gazed across the water. He pushed his hand through his hair, back, then forward, slow, like he was too tired for his normal ruffling gesture.

  Komu splashed to shore to sit protectively beside the sleeping
Summit on her wolf bed. He kept his nose in the air, looking left and right, ears pricked. No bears burst from the brush.

  After a minute in which Demik rested his sweating feet in the water, Mej said, “What are we doing?”

  “We’re looking for her family,” Demik said. “Hoping she’ll remember what happened, where they are, how she came to be in the river.”

  Both watched rushing water.

  “Why?” Mej asked after another pause.

  Demik looked at him. “What do you mean? She couldn’t even remember her name. She needs her people. And her memory back.”

  “Does she?” Mej also dragged his gaze from the river to Demik’s eyes. “Why?”

  Demik hesitated, unsure if that was supposed to be rhetorical.

  “What happened back there?” Mej asked. “She’s not stupid. She didn’t want that animal to suffer. So what was that?”

  “I don’t…”

  “It was something from her past. Obviously. Doesn’t that make you think? Wonder about what she’s been through?”

  “Of course. We want to know what—”

  “Why?” Again.

  Pause. They looked into each other’s eyes.

  “You know what I think?” Mej asked. “I’ve been thinking about it ever since she told me she’d once had a mate. Only she didn’t use past tense. I’m sure she couldn’t say who he was or what happened, not even his name, but she remembers the familiarity of a lover. First clue, right? Now that with the cat?”

  Demik didn’t say anything, only waiting.

  “Don’t say I’m the only one thinking it.” Mej frowned. “She’s been through some bad times. Something happened to her that … maybe she shouldn’t remember.”

  “She needs her people,” Demik repeated. “Not as if we can ignore—”

  “Maybe they’ll come looking for her. Maybe she’ll remember more about herself eventually. But do you really want to hunt her past?”

  Demik looked around, back up the bank to the ball of black fluff. She was a spirit, a guide, Earth Mother’s touch to bring light to his clan and guide him. Possibly guide them to their own salvation. In the meantime, here she was, a mortal being who … what?