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

by K. R. Alexander

  Demik shook his head, shifting his gaze to the river. He wanted to clutch his head in both hands, to think, to understand. He only sat with Mej watching him.

  At last, Demik said, “She needs to discover herself—beyond her name. There’s something bigger that she’s—”

  “What about the self she has now?” Mej cut him off. “The one we all love? The one who’s already happy how she is? Something happened to her that—”

  “She fell in the river and hit her head and can’t remember. That’s all we know.”

  “You believe that?” Mej’s voice was growing more harsh, more urgent, though still soft so their words would not carry to sharp ears over the river noise. “How do you ‘fall into a river’ and get a ‘bump on the head’ and lose all your memories? We don’t know what really happened. That’s the point. But I’ll tell you something. When she remembers, if she does, she’ll wish she hadn’t.”

  Another silence while Demik tried not to picture what could have befallen a lone vixen that left her starving, injured, memory gone, and almost drowned.

  “Just … one more night,” Demik said. “She hasn’t sniffed a single thing that’s been familiar. Another night and we’ll … go home.”

  Mej nodded, saying nothing for minute. “Maybe she’ll remember on her own—needs time to heal, whatever it is. But I’ve got a bad feeling about this…” He absently cracked his knuckles as he watched the water.

  “What about her clan? If we don’t find them…”

  “At least we have her. It’s not as if she misses them, so…” Mej shrugged. “That’s one of the things, isn’t it? She says she has a mate. Yet … no mate, no clan… He has to be dead…”

  “Or he would be here,” Demik said to the river. “He would do anything he could to find her.”

  “Right. But she doesn’t know. She doesn’t remember grief. Could be her whole family’s dead. Looks like it, doesn’t it? One silver vixen out here?” Shaking his head. “And you want her to remember that? Think about who she is already. Think about what she knows. The other night? Telling you how much she loves everything?”

  They looked at each other again.

  Mej continued. “She already knows about the land and animals, food, speech, her name, hunting and home, sex and love… What more do you want her to know?” Another slow push of his hand through his hair. “Something bad happened. Maybe … really bad. But look at her… Who she is already … isn’t that worth protecting? Worth keeping her away from traps and cages, instead of asking her to remember them?”

  Demik watched the river, silent for another long stretch, before he finally said, “We’ll start back in the morning.”

  Chapter 37

  Night 5

  It was late, two hours of light left, when we came to the waterfall.

  Climbing through rocks and forest, shadow and sun, our walk was warmed by blazing July heat. Strangely hot for any season, Demik said.

  All three dog-foxes were with me in skin now. I’d changed back, healing my arm all the way so Demik was pleased when he examined it. I hoped the lynx’s wounds would heal too. Even if they didn’t, at least she would die free.

  Mej was all right also. I wished they understood about the lynx. About what it meant to be free. Either way, they’d helped.

  After napping through the afternoon, I’d been eager to go on. I saw the land ahead rising, heard how the water roared. And the day was so hot…

  Komu had put on his skin. Mej had taken Ondrog’s rifle and sack. Ondrog had changed to fur. He was gray and white, tall and striking, larger than me in my skin by a good deal. Now climbing the long forest slope with us, his tongue dangled, dripping saliva to his snowy forepaws. Our skin bodies likewise ran with sweat.

  We had to curve and climb, not along the river where the way was too steep now, but out through the forest, following the sound rather than sight of water.

  Then, there it was: a view beyond trees, a sweeping valley of sun, proceeded by bursting water that flowed in from our right and vanished to our left. Oh, the cool, rushing, flowing, tumbling, sunny, brilliant, bubbling joy of that river. And oh, the sweat and sun on my skin.

  Ondrog padded to the edge for a drink, gazing left and right first, watching, listening. He lowered his head to lap. Demik and Mej slung packs and rifles from their shoulders, sighing, wiping their brows. Komu lay on his chest to dunk his face in the river, hands below him.

  Why all so slow? Why so careful? Couldn’t they see how beautiful it was? What made it worth the climb up here?

  While they inched about like winded caterpillars, I tugged everything off, dropping tunic, skirt, undergarments, and moccasins in a heap. In a span of seconds I was free in my skin, my hair cascading behind me like a shawl.

  “If you want to bathe, it’s quieter over here,” Mej said, walking upriver.

  “What are—?” Demik started as I ran past him.

  “Summit?” Mej turned.

  They would see, they would feel this with me as I flew.

  “Summit, wait!”

  “Don’t!”

  Long strides, legs lashing like a doe, splash, splash, leap!

  “Summit!”

  Waterfall roar in my ears, tumbling water, sun blinding, wind in my hair, stinging eyes, rippling skin: down, down, down. With the water merged with air and fire in the sun: soaring, sailing, laughing. Sweat drying on my skin with force of wind while the water wet me in turn. Spray reached out, soaked me, so I was already growing used to the cool when—crash.

  Chapter 38

  Explosion. Dark to light, summer to winter.

  Then I burst into sun from the hammering force of the waterfall that drove me down, held, and yielded as I kicked out, pulled with my arms, and arrived once more into light.

  Cold engulfed me, snatching my breath as much as water, yet it was a welcome cold which I could get used to—not a destroying cold. Water roared about me, spray and splash, dancing with me so I twirled along with the river’s voice.

  I had water up my nose, burning, and blew and blew. I ducked my head, splashing as I swam from below whitewater that tried to knock me under the surface. I coughed, twisted so my hair fanned in the water like a skirt spinning to a dance, and floated over on my back to watch for the others.

  Someone was shouting. Ever so far away. Or was it only the roar of the waterfall in my ears that made it seem so?

  Only Mej, standing on the rocks at the top of the falls, yelling and grabbing his own head in both hands. That must mean something… A signal? I couldn’t think what… I certainly couldn’t understand his words through the roar.

  Floating downriver on my back, I waved to him. Why weren’t they down here? Why climb to the top of a waterfall in the blazing heat, amidst vicious insects, if not for the thrill of the jump?

  I ducked and rolled again, swimming upstream. The current was slow past the falls. All rush up above, then gentle here after the concentrated crash. It did not take much to remain around the falls in this deep pool where the water had pounded out a hollow in the earth for … ever.

  Crash.

  I kicked off, swimming to the whitewater. It was Demik, I discovered when he burst up as I had, exploding in my face from the power of the falls. Gasping, he lunged for me, catching hold of my arms.

  “Demik—” I laughed. “I knew you—”

  “Are you all right?” He was not laughing. He sounded scared, even angry.

  “Of course I am.” I reached to his face, kicking below me, keeping afloat with him. “Are you? What’s wrong?”

  “Have you lost your mind? Earth Mother, what—?” He was shouting, but panting and spitting. “What—? You can’t—” He coughed.

  Unlike mine, his hair was tied back. It didn’t drift around his shoulders in the water. I wanted to pull out the cord, let his hair mix with mine.

  I touched his face instead, kissed him. “What is it, Demik?”

  He had my arm, trying to swim to shore. “You didn’t know how de
ep this was, or how far, or if there would be rocks—” Cough, gasp, splash, swimming with one hand on me. “You could have been killed.”

  “No, Demik—” Catching at his hands, his shoulders, trying to get him to look into my eyes. “No—”

  “You had no idea if it was safe to jump from there. Earth Mother, you can’t run into town, or walk up to a trapped lynx, or jump off a cliff on a whim. Summit—” His voice broke and he coughed again, spitting river water.

  Our feet had struck stones. I found good purchase so I could stand and wrap my arms around him. Demik stopped, shaking. His body was knotted up tight with rigid muscles.

  It had taken him a minute to follow because he had the sense not to jump in the water with buckskins on. I was glad to feel his skin against mine all the way down to our toes on rocks. Not glad he was hurting. I’d hurt him. Again.

  “I’m sorry.” I pressed my face to his neck. “But I knew. We’re here for the river. This whole walk… Always following the river. We climbed for the river. So … it seemed … right. And I knew. I knew I’d be all right.” It had never crossed my mind that I wouldn’t be. Once he pointed it out, it seemed reasonable to assume there could have been danger in jumping into a waterfall. Yet … I knew.

  “How?” Demik pulled back to look into my eyes, moving both hands to hold my face. “You remembered? You’ve jumped in before?”

  I shook my head. “I don’t think so. I just … knew. I knew it was the right spot to jump and … it was…” I offered a smile. Despite him being upset, I couldn’t help it. It was all so good: the jump and river and being here with him.

  Demik gazed into my eyes, catching his breath as he stood on solid stones with me, holding on, water rippling past us, sunlight radiant on our skin and hair, dancing off the river. Not so blinding I couldn’t see his smile. Just a trace: tug at the edge of his mouth, softening in his eyes.

  “You … you were guided here? As if … with a special knowing?” His voice was hesitant, much calmer, but uncertain. “As if Earth Mother told you it would be safe?”

  “I don’t—” I looked around just in time to see Mej crash into the water.

  Not wanting him to be scared like Demik had been, I dived to meet him. No … it was all right. Mej had understood. Or, at least, he’d seen we were all right before he’d jumped.

  He also gasped and sputtered. His hair was so short, he slung his head and sent water spinning across my face, making me laugh. Then he was laughing too, hugging me in the water, knocking me below the surface.

  “That was incredible!” he shouted when we popped up. “You insane vixen! What the hell? That was the best damn—” Falling under again, kissing me below the water.

  I kissed him back, twirling with him, bouncing up and laughing.

  Splash: Komu joined us. He whooped as he burst free, also naked and laughing like Mej.

  “Inspired!” Komu shouted, tackling me. We crashed under.

  I blew out my nose, saving myself from more water burning up it. Komu also kissed me underwater through the bubbles. His mouth covered mine while my breath was already lost.

  By the time we surfaced I ended with blazing sinuses after all. I had to cough and blow while my eyes streamed. Still, I had to laugh at him.

  He turned his attention to shouting at Mej—wasn’t that the best thing he’d ever done, and so on.

  Mej jumped on him, throwing him underwater.

  Demik touched my shoulder, treading water with me while I got my breath back.

  I kicked to spin, hair whirling, beaming at him. “See? It’s all right, Demik. It is…” Desperate for him to agree, to truly be able to share this splendor with him.

  Demik really smiled. “Yes, I see.” Looking into my eyes.

  I threw my arms around his neck, plunging both of us under.

  There were minutes of up and down, twisting and scrambling around each other, all limbs and bodies and my hair. Mej kept shoving Komu under. Komu kept trying to get closer to me. Demik held onto me like I might drift downriver.

  In a lull, we caught our breaths, all heads above the surface at once, and I looked up for Ondrog.

  He stood on rocks beside the water at the top where Mej had been.

  “Ondrog!” I shouted and waved. I’m not sure he could hear my words from there beside the roar of water. “Jump! Jump with us!”

  He watched me from far above, his mouth open as he panted, his pale, thick coat dazzling as the whitewater in the night’s sun.

  Mej snorted at that. “Not in a thousand winters.”

  Even Demik grinned at the idea of the wolf joining us.

  Ondrog only watched me wave, then, apparently assured we were all right, he padded away out of sight.

  “He’ll want to change,” I suggested. “Come down like us.”

  “Give up on him,” Mej said, touching my lips with a forefinger as he tread water. “He doesn’t dance, doesn’t like berries, doesn’t form packs with foxes. He certainly doesn’t jump into waterfalls.”

  “He’s a good wolf,” I said, watching the cliff. “He likes being with us. He’ll come down.”

  “He won’t.”

  We waited a minute. Mej was right. Ondrog must have returned to stay with our things, or went hunting.

  After some time, all of us drifting, leaned back in the water, Komu found himself just enough behind Mej that he could use both hands, sneaking up, right on top of Mej’s head, to slam him underwater.

  Demik pulled me away. “Sorry, Summit. But he’s a wolf. You can’t expect him to be like us.”

  “You wouldn’t have jumped unless you’d been coming after me because you were afraid I was hurt,” I said as Mej and Komu’s floundering sprayed us.

  “What…?”

  “We foxes aren’t a certain way and Ondrog is different. We are all different.” I embraced him, nearly making our heads go under. “And we’re all the same.”

  Demik kissed me with water sloshing into our mouths.

  “Time’s up!” Mej rammed into Demik, taking his place. He also kissed me.

  Komu pushed him under. Komu’s lips had hardly touched mine when he vanished, Mej having pulled him down from below. Demik was back.

  I laughed. “I love you.” I didn’t care who I was saying it to. I just joined the mix-up.

  Chapter 39

  We danced through water, played: diving, swimming, chasing. Over and over, each returned, touching, twining around me.

  Mej sucked my nipples underwater, staying down so long he came up gasping, then back. Demik swirled my hair around us, finally braiding it down my back while he stood on a hidden river rock.

  I tried drifting on my back, relaxing, in the night’s sun and hypnotic roar of the waterfall. They wouldn’t let me. Demik tried to defend my space, yet one or other would swim around him, or under. I couldn’t decide which was better—the kissing or the relaxing—so I enjoyed going back and forth.

  I dove for rough stones, something round, so I could scrub my skin; shed some like my fur. They were hard to come by, most river rocks being smooth—and various dog-foxes kept inadvertently knocking them from my hands when I did have one.

  I’d given up, again drifting on my back, when Komu popped up beside me like a salmon leaping from the current. He offered a speckled gray and black rock, shaped like a large egg, with a rough, textured surface.

  A gem. A truly perfect specimen of a washing stone. Surely the best scrubbing stone I’d ever seen.

  I wrapped my arms around his neck, both of us kicking, knees nocking together, to stay up. A real kiss this time, long, above water, Komu trying to hold on, to touch me more while also swimming. He turned his head, drifting with me downstream, touching my lips with his tongue, gentle, like he wasn’t sure what to do next.

  I loved how light he was, how pliant. Not because he was young or gentle. Demik was also gentle, and Komu wasn’t that much younger than the rest of us. But because he was listening. He listened with his body, waiting to feel what I did
.

  It was last night, I knew. Fur was fur and skin was skin. One didn’t go around talking about this or that thing that had happened in the other shape. One got on with the day as it was, the shape of the moment. Not as if we’d discussed it. Yet I sensed as he followed me in the water, kissed and waited to see if I responded, that this was from his lessons last night.

  I delighted in his listening, how he made me feel respected. Also, I loved that stone.

  I had it in my hand before Mej swam under us and pulled Komu below.

  A work of art in stone. With Komu vanished, I scrubbed my skin—down my arms, under them, twisting to get the bottoms of my feet—until Demik took the stone to help. I had to lean into him, arching my back, leaning my shoulder in, almost crooning with my fur sounds.

  Demik disapproved of my leaning. “Careful—you’ll rub yourself raw.”

  Demik disapproved of many things. He feared something bad happening. Yet how would he know if he didn’t try? My skin wasn’t raw. It was thrilling. As delicious as my stone and the water and Demik’s touch and Komu’s kisses and Mej springing up before me.

  “Scrub your hands.” I snatched the stone from Demik to push at Mej. “Tobacco on your paws is bitter.”

  “Never. We can’t have that, can we?” Mej splashed past Demik so he could stand with water up to his chest, then made a great show of scrubbing each finger with my stone.

  Demik glared, but I didn’t mind his mocking. Mej didn’t mean it in a sharp way.

  My smile fell when Mej fumbled and dropped my stone. It vanished with a plop into the lazy current and down beyond gleaming reflections of the river.

  I gasped, kicking toward him, horrified. I wanted that scrubbing stone forever.

  Komu, though, had bobbed up behind us. He saw it too and dove, plunging past me and down to Mej’s feet. He had to come up a couple of times for air, but he finally found my stone among thousands and gave it back.

  I wouldn’t let either Demik or Mej have it then. I swam it to shore, stopping at a rock jutting from water up to my waist. I rested my stone atop this—hot, dry, and safe.