Enslaved by the Alpha (Shifters of Nunavut Book 2)

by Rivard, Viola

  The sight finally tore Astrid from her stupor and she managed to regain control of her body. Even so, she still wasn’t sure what the hell to do with herself. Fighting against these beasts seemed entirely futile, but then again, so was running. She desperately looked around for something to use as a weapon. Might-Be-Named-Freddy’s gun lay on the ground by his severed arm, but her chances of reaching it before the wolf were slim to none.

  Just as she thought that, the wolf sprung at her again. This time, Noona wouldn’t be able to stall it. So, Astrid did the only thing she could do. She spread her arms, looked the wolf dead in the eyes, and let out a loud roar.

  Early in her career, before Ginnifer had become a freelancer, she had done half hour nature documentaries for television. One of her first documentaries was on the top ten defense mechanisms in animals. Astrid had only seen the episode once—begrudgingly—but she remembered that several of the animals, when threatened, were able to make themselves look bigger than they were. Some were even able to imitate the sounds of other, scarier animals. In lieu of weapons, that seemed her only choice.

  The wolf’s jaws were open wide, displaying two rows of sharp, shiny white teeth. The teeth came at Astrid, aiming right for her throat. She stood her ground, not out of courage, but out of the knowledge that there was no escape.

  Abruptly, the wolf skidded to a halt. Its alabaster body seemed to fade against the snowy terrain, leaving only its black gums and green eyes behind. Astrid stared into those brilliant eyes, fear, confusion, and the barest twinge of hope ricocheting through her mind.

  Did it work?

  No. The white wolf wasn’t staring at Astrid, it was staring past her. Which meant that there was something behind her that was even more of a threat. Astrid took a step back and then to the side, careful not to expose her back to either threat. She prayed that she would see Gerald behind her, brandishing a shotgun. But the wind and sounds of gunshots had died down, blanketing the tundra in a deep, ominous silence.

  The snow was stained crimson and burgundy. Extremities and innards lay strewn about in a manner so macabre that once again, Astrid was struck by the surrealism of the night. This wasn’t an attack. This was…a slaughter.

  Just beyond the bloodbath, the wolves had gathered in a triangular formation. She gasped in a breath as she saw their leader—a creature so formidable, so horrifying, and so magnificent that he couldn’t be anything but their alpha.

  He was twice the size of the next largest wolf. He held his head high, displaying a lush mane of ebony hair. The long, silken locks spilled down his neck, gradually shortening into the dark, sleek pelt that covered his muscular torso and powerful limbs. With the distance between them, she couldn’t make out the color of his eyes, but she didn’t need to. Those frigid blue eyes, eyes that had only been on camera for eight seconds, had haunted her for nearly a year.

  Erik.

  Astrid was dully aware of Noona coming to her side as Erik approached. His mane whipped and flared around his face, tossed by an icy wind. As he neared her, the alpha shifted, a nightmare morphing into a dream.

  A shift was a thing of seamless beauty. Teeth shrank and flattened, muscles and bones snapped and popped as they realigned, and fur retracted into human flesh. The most skilled of shifters could make it look effortless, often changing forms midstride. Erik made it look like an art. Even as his mane drew up onto the top of his head and the sharp features of his striking face began to take shape, he was already regarding Astrid with a slight cock of his head and the barest quirk of a smile.

  Noona intercepted him, growling and with teeth bared. Erik crouched low on the ground, so that his face was level with the husky’s. The alpha had just completed the shift, however it looked as though his teeth were still caught in limbo between man and wolf. Astrid had seen many werewolves in Ginnifer’s documentary, but never had she seen one with such large and prominent canines.

  “Please don’t hurt her.” Astrid hardly recognized her own voice. It was soft, weak, and barely audible even to her own ears, but just the fact that she had managed to speak helped her to regain some of her footing in reality.

  Not seeming to hear her, the alpha continued to gaze into Noona’s eyes. His face had become perfectly blank, yet somehow infinitely more threatening. The husky stopped growling and took a step back.

  Astrid’s heart leapt into her throat as Erik reached out a hand with sharp, claw-like nails. He patted the top of Noona’s head. In a deep, accented voice, he said, “Good girl. Brave, but not stupid.” He nodded at the dog. “Now leave.”

  To Astrid’s surprise, Noona shook her head and let out a small whimper. She retreated farther back to stand at Astrid’s side.

  The alpha stood, and Astrid became aware of just how large he was. And also how naked. Just as she was taking in the sculpted muscles of his chest, one of the other wolves came up to hand him a black pelt. With quick efficiency, he tossed it over one shoulder and tied it at his hip.

  Astrid braced herself for the confrontation to come. She tried to think of what she would say to this creature, but had no idea where she stood. Bargaining was likely off the table, and though she was ashamed to admit it, she didn’t care enough about the men to express genuine anger or indignation over their deaths. All she could do now was try to survive.

  So what did that leave? Begging for her life?

  Her sister, proud, beautiful, and arrogant Ginnifer would have been above such a thing. Astrid, however, was not.

  She was fully prepared to fall to her knees and cry, when Erik walked right past her, not sparing her so much as a glance. Her eyes followed him to her tent, where the wolf she’d squared off with just moments ago was dragging out the supply bag. Erik gave the wolf a curt nod, and then carefully hooked one claw into the zipper loop and pulled, putting the bag’s contents on display.

  Confused, but not wanting to miss the opportunity, Astrid said, “They’re for you and your pack. Almost everything in that tent is. We… I brought it as a peace offering.”

  Continuing to ignore her, the alpha crouched down and examined the bag’s contents. He kept his back to her, which Astrid found to be strange. In the documentary, Ginnifer had mentioned that wolves—even an alpha—never exposed his back to a threat.

  He doesn’t see you as a threat, she realized. He doesn’t see you as anything.

  Unconsciously, her hands tightened into fists.

  She heard the rustle of plastic as Erik picked up a Hershey’s bar. Astrid tilted her head to see that the wolf had opened one of her bags. In it, she’d stored the items she’d planned on offering the wolves in exchange for their assistance in bringing Ginnifer back. The bag of sweets, coffee beans, and chewing gum seemed like a paltry offering to her, but she knew from the documentary that these would be considered great luxuries among a werewolf pack.

  “Americans,” Erik scoffed, bringing Astrid back to the present. She noticed that he had opened the Hershey’s bar and taken a bite. “Over two hundred years and you still haven’t figured out how to make chocolate.”

  It took Astrid a moment to realize that he was addressing her, and by the time she did, he had already stood and turned to face her. She squared her shoulders, doing her best to make herself look tall.

  Still holding the candy bar, Erik waved his hand at the bag. “What is it you want for this?”

  She blinked at him. “W-what?”

  Erik took another bite of the candy bar. “You called it an offering. In my experience, humans do not offer anything without expecting something in return.”

  “And wolves do?” There was a note of challenge in her voice, and it scared her. But before she could backpedal, Erik replied.

  “Some do,” he said, in a way that made it clear that he was not among them.

  “It’s not much of a peace offering when you already killed my people.”

  His eyes flicked over to the carnage behind her, as though noticing it for the first time. “Hm.”

  She waited for
him to say more, but instead, he just took another bite of the candy bar.

  “That’s all you have to say? You killed them all.”

  He gave her a pointed look, a look that spoke in volumes.

  Not all of them.

  Astrid shivered.

  “Their deaths are irrelevant,” he said with a dismissive wave of his hand. “Now tell me, what is it you’ve come here for? Claws? Fangs? A pelt? One of our pups? What exactly is it your people think these cheap chocolates are worth to us?”

  His face was still blank, yet it had once again taken on a frightening quality. The enormity of her situation suddenly bore down on Astrid and it became hard to breathe. Tears burned in her eyes.

  “All I wanted was your help…” She could hear the raw vulnerability in her voice and it made her feel even more pathetic. The tears came then, both from the horrors she’d witnessed and from her shame. “The Siluit pack, they took my sister. I needed your help to get her back.”

  The alpha sounded angry now. “And you thought that this would be enough for me to invade an enemy territory?”

  Astrid swiped at her eyes. “There’s more in other bags. Soda, sewing kits, and some tools I thought you may find useful…”

  When her vision cleared, Erik was standing directly in front of her. She hadn’t heard him move and stumbled backwards in an effort to get away from him. He caught her, his rough hand holding her by the chin. Beside her, Noona let out a soft growl. The alpha growled back, and Noona’s sound turned into a whimper.

  Erik tilted her head up, forcing Astrid to meet his gaze. As he did so, she noticed that her head only came up to the middle of his chest. For a brief second, she was struck by just how big he was. Despite her curvaceous figure, she felt as though she were in the grasp of a giant.

  Then, her eyes locked with his, and she became their prisoner.

  His gaze, which up close looked like twin orbs of broken ice, inspected her. They roamed over her face, her neck, and her collarbone. His free hand came up from beneath the pelt to grab a few strands of her hair. He rolled them between his fingers, then brought them to his nose and sniffed. His expression went from blank to guarded.

  “How old are you?” he asked, breaking the silence.

  “Twenty-eight.”

  She was used to men not believing her, and half expected him to follow up with “Nuh-uh” or “Really? What year were you born?” But Erik just gave a slight nod in response.

  Without warning, he lowered his head. Astrid barely had time to tense, instinct telling her she was about to be bitten. Instead, she felt something warm, wet, and a little rough sweep across the curve of her neck.

  He licked her.

  His mouth moved to her ear and she heard him sniff twice, before licking her again. Her entire body was rigid, first with fear, and then with…something else. His mouth closed over the bottom of her ear, fangs pressing into the soft pad of flesh. The hand that had been tightly clutching her chin had somehow settled on her jaw, cradling the side of her face in a gesture that felt almost gentle. Most perplexing of all was his scent—a smell that rivaled even the most alluring of colognes. She couldn’t discern a single element of that intoxicating aroma, and her efforts to do so only increased the tension that was growing in the pit of her belly.

  Squeezing her eyes shut, Astrid recalled the sight that lay only a few meters behind her. The dying campfire, the dismembered bodies, and the bloodstained snow. The effect was instantaneous. Whatever warped arousal had been brewing within her, it was immediately squelched in favor of disgust.

  Erik pulled back, and when she opened her eyes, Astrid was greeted by his smirk.

  “I will accept your offerings as payment for trespassing in my territory,” he said, amusement lightening his accented voice. “You will be gone by the next sunset. If you’re not gone by then, you will join your friends.”

  He let her go and turned away, making a quick whistling noise. The shifters gathered around him and began funneling into the tent, one by one carrying out the bags from within. Astrid watched, feeling numb. Once again, she felt as though she were outside of her own body.

  “I came here for my sister,” she finally said. “And even if I was willing to leave without her, you killed my guides.”

  Ignoring her, he continued to walk away, past the tent and heading back towards the tundra. Astrid looked from him to the wolves, who held her in the same disregard.

  She was being spared from the jaws of a wolf, only to be left at the mercy of the tundra. Without Gerald and his men, she had no concept of how to get back to civilization. If Erik didn’t help her, she would die.

  It was that knowledge that had her stalking after the alpha. He must have been able to hear the snow crunching loudly beneath her feet, but he didn’t turn back until the moment her hand clutched his pelt. He whipped around, and she had just enough time to suck in a breath before his large hand was wrapped around her neck.

  “You can’t leave me out here,” she said, trying not to show how terrified she was. As soon as the words left her lips, it occurred to her that this alpha male was not accustomed to being told what he could and could not do. This became all the more evident by the mocking grin that slowly spread across his face.

  His grip on her neck tightened, and for a moment she was certain he’d strangle her. But, as Astrid was beginning to learn, nothing about Erik was predictable.

  “All right. I will help you find your sister,” he said. “But not for chocolates.”

  He waited for her to ask.

  “Then for what?” she choked out.

  “You,” the word echoed in the tundra’s sound void. “You will be mine. Mine to do whatever I please with. Do we have a deal?”

  “And you’ll help me find my sister?” Astrid confirmed, her tone remarkably calm even despite the bizarre turn their interaction had taken.

  Erik nodded.

  “How do I know I can trust you?” she asked.

  The alpha ran his thumb down her throat. She winced as it scratched the fragile skin, and a second later, she felt the trickle of blood.

  He gave her a dark, predatory look. “You do yourself no favors by playing the fool. We both know I do not need your permission. So, I ask one final time. Do we have a deal?”

  She said not to let his implacable mask fool me.

  There was no mystery to Erik.

  Behind those glacial eyes was nothing but a cruel, pitiless psychopath.

  “Yes.”

  CHAPTER TWO

  Hands bound, Astrid was thrown over Erik’s back like a sack of flour. She lay on the wolf’s back for what felt like hours, trying to ignore the pain in her spine and struggling to breathe. The air felt thinner than ever before, and anxiety made her breaths come quick and shallow.

  With plenty of time to consider her circumstances, Astrid had come to the conclusion that she didn’t regret her decision to surrender herself to Erik. There had been no other choice. But every decision that led up to becoming the alpha’s prisoner—yeah, she regretted those. If she had never gotten it into her head to rescue Ginnifer, she could have been back home in Miami, relaxing on the beach with an ice-cold beer. Or, more realistically, staring longingly at the beach from the crack in her cubicle, drowning her sorrows in diet soda.

  For once in her life, she also didn’t blame Ginnifer for her problems. Astrid could have taken her sister’s money and paid off her credit card debt. Or at least part of it. Why had she felt the need to squander it all on an arctic expedition through werewolf territory? It certainly wasn’t out of love. What, then? Familial duty? Or had she just wanted to see the look on Ginnifer’s face when she came to her rescue?

  The sun was rising when they reached their destination. From her awkward position, Astrid wasn’t able to tell where they were at first, but rather was able to sense a change in altitude. When she managed a glimpse at her surroundings, she almost screamed.

  Erik was walking on a narrow pathway that had been carved into
a sheet of ice. Said sheet of ice happened to be a sheer cliff that dropped down what looked like hundreds of meters into a rocky basin. One wrong move and she would fall to her death.

  Presumably sensing her apprehension, the alpha began to toy with her. He went out of his way to make absurd jumps and unnecessary twists, nearly dropping her each time. When he leapt from one carved pathway to another, the momentum sent Astrid flying forward and into the air. This time, she did scream. Erik caught her before she fell, his jaws locking on to the back of her coat. He let her dangle in the air for a few seconds, and she could have sworn she heard the wolf make a noise akin to laughter. Instead of yelling at him, she promptly passed out.

  When her knee hit a rock a short while later, Astrid came to. Erik was still holding her in his jaw, and appeared to be dragging her through a frozen tunnel. Despite being surrounded by ice, it felt warmer in there than it had outside.

  They passed through a wide cavern. It was dimly lit by a few oil lanterns, giving Astrid a glimpse of the den’s residents. There were wolves of all shapes and sizes—nearly all of them white or gray in coloring. Those that had shifted into human form had long white hair and skin that was either eerily pale or the deep tan of an ethnicity she couldn’t place. Most of the wolves were males, which she found strange. According to The Wolves of Nunavut, packs were predominantly female, as most alphas weren’t tolerant of male competition. She wondered if Ginnifer had gotten that detail wrong, or if all of the females were simply the ones in their wolf forms.

  It appeared that a few of the wolves they’d traveled with had arrived before them, because she could see several of the pack members passing around M&Ms and small bags of potato chips. Those that weren’t fixated on the sweets were staring at her and Erik, varying degrees of scrutiny on their faces. None of the wolves approached them, and a few seconds later, Erik was dragging her down yet another tunnel.