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

by K. R. Alexander

  Did I have one almost like it before? Once…?

  I paused, gazing at it, half my body in sun, half in water, my hair partly braided down my back so sun could better reach my skin. Cold but warm, certain but uncertain… A scent … clay and lavender…? A bath of warm water instead of cold?

  I turned away, still puzzling. Demik was right there. I walked into his arms. He kissed my lips, gliding his hands down my body.

  I stepped into him. Rocks shifted and we fell, plunging again into water.

  Mej was there also, drawing me into deeper water as Demik and I twisted apart. Even Demik was laughing. Had he laughed before? Just a bit at home. Not since we’d been on the trail and he’d been so worried. I loved his laugh.

  I wrapped my arms around his neck. “Demik? Can we go home soon?”

  Demik stared at me, hands on my waist, smile falling. He looked past me to Mej, which I didn’t understand so looked around as well.

  Mej was smiling. A smug smile.

  Demik met my eyes. “Of course. We’ll go back tomorrow. Whenever you’re ready. This isn’t getting us anywhere, is it?”

  “Everywhere,” I said and kissed his lips. “But home is better. Being with you…” A long kiss, Demik stroking my tingling, clean skin. “All of you … is best.”

  I’d thought they were too cold for their bodies to respond like this in the water. Yet we’d adapted. It didn’t feel so cold anymore. Not with sun shrouding us and the endless thrashing or swimming. Feeling Demik’s arousal when he moved against me, I knew I wasn’t the only one finding the river plenty warm.

  Mej kissed from behind, his lips on my neck, pushing my hair aside. I tried to turn for him. Again the riverbed shifted and I fell. We splashed to our necks, kicking off, treading back up the shore for purchase. Mej pulled me to him. I met his kiss. Demik kissed my shoulder, stroking my back.

  They were enchanting, moving together instead of in opposition, their bodies toned as their elegant forms in fur. Now that strength was spread through rippling, gleaming skin, visible shapes outlining their muscles rather than hidden by pelts.

  I gave up on floating or scrubbing since they held on this time. Mej stroked down my body underwater. He bit my throat and reached a hand between my legs. I thought of the dance, the third story, the window. This was even better. While Demik kissed my neck from behind and felt around to stroke my breasts, Mej pressed up until my feet weren’t touching stones. I rested in the river’s hold and his fingers inside me, water turning his touch shivery.

  I gasped, grabbed the back of his neck to pull myself in against him, licked his lips.

  Demik moved to my side, my face. I kissed him instead, then found myself twisting—or twisted—away from Mej, facing Demik. Komu hovered at Mej’s shoulder, watching us, not touching. Waiting as I’d taught him? Or only watching the others to see how everything worked when in this form?

  Demik guided me to shore by walking into me, pushing while I faced him. We fell back in water, scrambling, Demik’s mouth around mine, holding me up, until my back was on stones and my face still broke the surface. Then, beyond that, bliss of hot stones. A blanket of smooth, hot bumps and lumps pressed my shoulders. I wriggled up more, wanting to squirm and tumble on this hot surface as in fur, rub and roll, kick and bask. So soothing, these stones embraced me like the river.

  I managed to get as far up as the middle of my back, in ecstasies, telling Demik to feel them, before pressure of his body over mine was too heavy to keep moving. It was a shock to feel him push inside me only because I’d grown so distracted—not because I didn’t crave him in return.

  I lifted both knees from the water, gave up the hold on the hot stones, and grasped the back of his head to pull him even closer.

  Demik ignored my stone request. He thrust and said my name, kissing my face, biting my neck, holding on, crushing: “Summit … I love you…” While I listened to his body with mine, felt his voice on my skin, tasted his scent on my tongue.

  Then he did feel the stones with me, smiling, startled by how hot they really were—would have been burning if we weren’t wet. Demik eased off to join me on his side, kissing my ear, nestling with me into the river rocks. The sun was almost gone. We’d just made it in time to feel this wonder of crystalline river and fire stones.

  I didn’t have time to miss Demik, or wish he’d given me more. Mej was there. His movements were slower, saying nothing as he only moaned and I held onto him, kissing, building my own pleasure against him. He brought me to that high point—taking over, rocking me—nearly at the same time as his own. So when he left me, pulling away with slow kisses, I felt completely relaxed for Komu, suddenly tired.

  He hesitated, kissing my face, water trickling down his body that shone in the nearly setting sun.

  “Scared? Do you need another demonstration?” Mej teased, but I didn’t mind if Komu had never been with a vixen before. He had figured out last night. He figured out this night too.

  Sort of figured it out. Ignoring Mej, he let me guide him, drawing him to me. Breathless, eyes bright, he watched me as if to make sure he did it right. Then he felt the heat in me, inviting him deeper, and he gasped, thrusting forward. He surged over me, letting out a stifled cry that was a fur sound, almost a yelp. His excitement was catching, his frantic thrusting arousing me with the combination of contact and sympathetic feeling—catching his pleasure, his bliss at what he felt with my body. Yet it was too fast. Mere seconds—myself panting, twisting a hand into his hair—then he was shuddering, still thrusting, soft cries stifled against my neck, and he relaxed.

  He remained on top of me a long time, painful as he crushed me into stones. I let him, kissing the side of his head, yet my hips hurt, my shoulders were digging into rocks.

  Finally Mej spoke up. “All right … let her be. She’s not your wolf to curl up on.” Shoving Komu’s shoulder with a lazy hand.

  Komu climbed away while all three snickered. Even Demik. They were making fun of Ondrog, maybe of me sleeping on him that afternoon. But why?

  I knew he was a wolf. Wolves weren’t foxes. Foxes weren’t wolves. But … if a wolf needed a pack…? If a fox needed a mate…? Why couldn’t that be?

  I wished he’d been here with us. Then again … he probably wouldn’t like it. None of it. Not the jump, not the play, not even this. He didn’t dance, didn’t like strawberries. Who didn’t like strawberries?

  But he liked us being with him. He’d slept curled up with us without ever moving until we had this morning. He didn’t have to. He didn’t have to let me sleep on his chest either. He could have set me on the ground. He’d chosen to let me stay.

  Komu also felt hot stones, enjoying them against his face, then lying on his back.

  We caught our breaths before Mej, then Komu, slipped into the water for a final stretch.

  I yawned, snuggled with my river rocks and Demik’s chest, before also creeping back into water to my waist, only rinsing off and returning to fetch my scrubbing stone.

  Demik, a hand on my hip, smiled when I grabbed it.

  “It’s the best one.” I rolled it in my fresh hands, rinsing it in the river. “You’ll keep it for me? Can it go in your pack?”

  “Of course it can. That’s diorite. I’ve never seen it in the Aaqann. It was a good find.”

  “Komu found it.” I turned the speckled stone, biting my lip. “I should have known that.”

  “What?” Demik stroked back my wet hair, starting to redo the braid.

  “I… The name, the type of stone. I keep seeing birds and trees and … I should know them, but sometimes I can’t think of the name…”

  “You’ll get it all back, little by little. You already are. You have your name. You know a fork. You know diorite. More will come every day.” He kissed my ear.

  I nodded, smiled a little at the stone. I loved him for being right, for having faith in me, even though I probably seemed clueless as a cabbage leaf to him half the time.

  “I love you, Demik. I’
m so grateful your people were the ones to find me.” I leaned my head into his chest, smiling, only waiting on Komu and Mej to join us before we made the long climb up the slope. Then I looked up. Not by chance. Something … tingled, chilled my spine. Like a memory, but an unpleasant one. Warning, danger… So I looked.

  There was something up there. Something enormous and solid about to fall down the waterfall and crush Komu and Mej.

  Chapter 40

  I screamed. I don’t know what. Maybe names, or other words, maybe just a scream. Terrified by the sight as the edge of a log, a whole tree trunk, jutted from the top of the waterfall, remained horizontal for an instant, then tipped downward.

  They spun toward me at the scream. Demik jumped. All followed my gaze. Mej and Komu threw themselves toward us at the shore, kicking, diving. Demik grabbed me—spinning me up in his arms and running through the water. He burst up the shore and—boom.

  The impact threw Demik off his feet. We crashed over the hot stones. He still held me, falling over me, but so agile in his balance and so strong, he didn’t crush me. He pulled me into his chest, bowed over me. In almost the same instant the water hit. A tidal wave of force crashed over Demik’s back, again throwing him forward. I was pressed into stones but still he held on, keeping himself around me.

  The wave fell back. Demik didn’t move as I tried to twist away, calling Mej and Komu’s names. I didn’t need to. There they were, thrown onto the rocks beside us, Mej holding Komu’s wrist, dragging him forward.

  Another mighty bang into the water, a vast spray hurling itself over us. The tree trunk had landed, on end, slamming its thousands of pounds, plus momentum from the drop, into the riverbed below the falls, teetered, then tipped and dropped its whole length into the river.

  Demik stood with me while Mej pulled Komu up the bank, both gasping and dripping while residual waves lapped at us.

  I looked up.

  Demik followed my gaze, spotting the next end of a tree trunk as it emerged at the top of the falls.

  “Go, run!” he snapped, dashing ahead with me to the forest shelter.

  Winded, Mej and Komu followed. Still, the next wave reached us and the ground shook as we dashed. They ran, barefoot through the trees for fifty paces before pausing to look around.

  Komu bent over, gagging and spitting up water. Mej tipped his head back, mouth wide, eyes shut.

  “Demik? There’s nothing wrong with me.”

  He looked at me, our faces close. “Oh … right…” He set me down gently on my feet. I stood on my toes to kiss his cheek. I still had my scrubbing stone.

  “Logging camp,” Demik panted. “I forgot all about it. I’ve never even seen it. Just knew it was somewhere up here.”

  “The logs flow down to the Yukon,” Mej gasped. “Men catch them for the mill at Dawson City. But I didn’t think of it either. Not sure why they’re casting their floaters in after midnight.”

  Komu dragged a hand down his face, straightening up, chest still heaving.

  Mej turned to me. “You saved our lives.”

  They all looked at me.

  “We had no clue,” Komu said. “We’d have been red stains on the bottom of the river. We were right in front of the falls. Right there…” His eyes were round as he said it, trembling.

  But Mej was looking even harder at me. “How did you know? You saw it?”

  “I didn’t see it,” Demik said. “We were looking down at that rock.” Gaze never wavering from me as he spoke. “You turned and deliberately looked up there.”

  They waited.

  I shifted uneasily. “I … don’t know. I knew … they might be…”

  “Did you remember? Have you seen logs on the river before?” Mej asked, sharp.

  I shook my head, more confused. “I don’t think so, Mej. I’m sorry…”

  “So what if she had seen them before?” Demik asked. “That doesn’t explain how at that exact moment she knew. Just knew.”

  A pause, all taking this in or wondering while I looked at my scrubbing stone. They weren’t really upset, and they were safe—everything all right. Yet I still felt … almost blamed…

  Mej stepped closer to squeeze my shoulder. He touched his forehead to mine. “However you knew … thank you.”

  I hugged him, letting out a breath, so relieved he was there it didn’t matter about anything else. Then Komu, who moved over and kissed my cheek. He still shivered. Though it wasn’t from cold, it reminded me the sun was setting and I looked up the slope. Too steep to climb on two feet.

  “We should change,” I said.

  Demik shook his head. “You’ve already changed three times today. You need a break. We’ll take the longer way around.”

  I started to protest, then nodded.

  We walked in our wet skin. Mej and Komu put on fur. They found a better way for us, cutting in, back toward the falls, so we could climb even with hands and feet instead of paws. Both my hands and feet were tough, perhaps from seasons running on them as paws, and I didn’t mind. I was, however, getting cold with my wet hair, plus the sun below the horizon.

  As we climbed, more logs thudded below, then all was still besides the river rushing by as if nothing had happened.

  Ondrog came to meet us halfway up. I was glad, holding onto his ruff and climbing with him, helping to pull me up while Demik explained about the logs.

  Ondrog made a sound in his throat, glancing at Demik. A sort of woof-grunt. He looked to the opposite bank as the ground leveled and we could walk to this top part of the riverbank.

  “What is it?” Demik glanced around.

  Ondrog started upriver but Demik and I had to pause to dress, shivering despite the climb. Then, in twilight pink light, Ondrog led us another hundred yards up the bank, into a curve among forest. There, across from us, was the lumber camp.

  Canvas tents and a few timber buildings, voices of men, smells of sap and tobacco, oil lamps and dogs. The camp was settling down, a few lights glinting, voices fading. They’d cast off the night’s trees and were turning in for their bunks.

  Ondrog stood impassively at my right side, so large I could rest my hand on his shoulders. Mej and Komu stood on the edge of our bank, scenting, ears twitching. On my left, Demik watched the quiet camp with his rifle slung across his shoulder and his eyes narrowed.

  He shook his head in apparent disgust and glanced at me. “Let’s find a spot to curl up and—” He moved closer in the gloom. “Summit? What’s wrong?”

  I could not tug my gaze from that camp as I answered in a whisper. “I’ve been here before.”

  Author’s Note

  Ready for more adventure, romance, and fox fluff? How about Komu and Ondrog getting a point of view? What do they have to say about all this play and no work? No need to wait! Book Two, Fox’s Quest, is out now!

  A brief aside about Foxes of the Midnight Sun. This trilogy is set in the same world as The Witch and the Wolf Pack, only across the globe (Yukon Territory instead of UK) and 120 years earlier.

  Readers of both series may be interested to note commonalities among shifter ideology, along with differences. You’ll also have noticed there is not the same use of loan words or slang in Foxes. In one series English is spoken and Lucannis words are sometimes used. In the other series Vulpen is spoken, along with certain Canadian First Nations languages. Effectively, the whole Foxes trilogy is a translation into English.

  That being said, it was tempting to include a glossary for this series for real world fox terms—which can be intriguing! In the end, I opted to skip some of the fox terminology herein, which didn’t add anything to the story and would possibly be confusing. For example, the white tip on a fox’s brush is called a tag, while a fox den is generally called an earth.

  Foxy vocabulary that will be known or understood in context includes: vixen for a female fox, dog-fox (or dog fox) for a male fox, skulk for a group of foxes, brush for tail, and gekkering, which is a loud, repeating sound of aggression between foxes. (Foxes do n
ot snarl like other canines, but use a fascinating array of vocalizations.)

  The time and place, including Dawson City and the 1896–1899 Klondike Gold Rush, are, of course, real. (Anyone else grow up with The Call of the Wild and White Fang?) Foxes of the Midnight Sun is, however, a work of fantasy. Some geographic details have been shifted or completely invented for this trilogy, while many elements blend a range of history, fact, fiction, and purest fantasy.

  Displaced native people? True. Barmen growing their fingernails to capture more gold dust than they weighed on their scales? True. Fox and wolf shifters working together for a common goal? You’ll have to be the judge of that…

  If you are enjoying Foxes of the Midnight Sun please leave a quick review on Amazon. Reviewers like you are a huge help to independent authors! So THANK YOU for taking the time to share what you think with other readers!

  You can also sign up for my mailing list at kralexander.com. You’ll be the first to know about new releases, bonus content, and receive exclusive extra stories not available anywhere else. I won’t bombard you with junk. Only the good stuff, keeping readers and authors connected.

  Now, Fox’s Quest awaits, so happy reading! And thank you for coming along on this adventure!

  Until our next hunt,

  K.R.