Enslaved by the Alpha (Shifters of Nunavut Book 2)

by Rivard, Viola

  Had she claws or a weapon, she could have attacked him right then, and Erik would not have been able to react in time. His body momentarily spent, he lay prone on the floor, staring up at her as she moved to straddle his hips.

  Remarkably, his cock was still rock solid. She slid onto it, encasing him in her heat. He was still hypersensitive from his climax, and although her folds were wet and slippery, he hissed in surprise and discomfort. The sound was drowned out by her long moan. Her head arched back and her eyes shut as she savored the descent.

  The sight of her enjoying his cock invigorated Erik. She placed her hands on his abdomen and began rocking her hips in a slow, rhythmic motion. He relaxed a bit, taking in the sight of her ample breasts bouncing up and down. Her taut nipples drew his attention and he wet his lips. He wanted to take them into his mouth, to nip and suck at them, to tease them until they were flushed red. But Erik was too large and the human too small for him to be able to manage that in their current position. Instead, he reached up, and in turn took each of her breasts into his calloused hand. He grasped and pinched the soft mounds, handling her in the rough way that he knew she enjoyed.

  Soft noises of pleasure turned into throaty moans as she began gyrating faster. The encounter soon turned into another exercise in restraint as the need to thrust returned. He held back, allowing her to use his cock as she needed it.

  Erik had never fucked like this before. He always took the lead and had never permitted a female to be on top, lest she start to think she was above him. But there was something disarming about the human. Substantially weaker than him, she couldn’t possibly dominate him, and perhaps that was why it gave him such a thrill to see her on top. He could experience the pleasure of relinquishing control, without actually jeopardizing his dominance.

  He had never fully come down from the high of the first climax, so when the second one came, it took him by surprise. One moment he was enjoying the friction of her hips grinding against his, and the next his body went rigid. As the shock of his orgasm hit him, his hand clenched her breast, claws nicking her soft skin. Either unaware or acutely pleased, she joined him in climax. Her inner walls tightened around him, as though trying to wring him dry.

  She collapsed onto his chest. Erik held her still, groaning as his seed pulsed into her. When he finally felt as though he could move, his fingers found their way to her hair. He pulled a few sweat-dampened coils back from her face, curling one around his index finger.

  As they lounged like that, it felt like time was standing still. While they remained in the space between present and future, nothing outside of the room existed for Erik. There was only the sound of dripping water, the smell of sex, and the heat that flowed between them. His life was changing at a furious rate, yet he felt unnaturally calm and at ease.

  “So…” she drawled. “What did you think?”

  He wasn’t sure where to begin.

  “Another female would have never dared to do the things you did,” he mused. “For one so convinced she’s my slave, you certainly take many liberties.”

  Her finger traced circles on his chest. “So long as I’m not in control of my fate, I am a slave. But…it’s not all bad. I like this. Correct me if I’m being presumptuous, but it seems like we have really good sexual chemistry.”

  She kept talking, but Erik began to tune her out. While he sometimes enjoyed conversing with her and often found himself listening to her ramblings, he couldn’t possibly listen to her all of the time. If he did that, he’d never have a moment inside his own head.

  But as Erik was contemplating whether to bathe and then mate again, or mate again and then bathe, something she said seized his attention.

  “It’s so liberating to be able to have sex with someone that I don’t care about.”

  Was she referring to…him?

  “What?”

  “Oh, wow, you were actually listening.” She propped her chin up on his chest and smiled. “I was saying that it’s nice to be able to enjoy sex without having to worry about falling in love.”

  Erik felt offended, but as usual, he wasn’t sure why. Before reason could get the better of him, he asked, “You don’t worry about falling in love with me?”

  She patted his chest. “Don’t worry, I’m not that type of girl. I’m sort of glad that I met you. After my divorce, I was terrified of having sex with anyone. The only person I’d ever slept with was my husband. I was so sure that I’d turn into a lovesick puppy dog over the first guy who threw me a bone.” She snorted. “Get it? A bone?”

  Erik didn’t care to figure out what she was laughing at. He rolled her off of him and stood. He had difficulty getting a handle on his thoughts as he climbed into the water. She started talking again, but this time, he tuned her out completely.

  CHAPTER TWENTY ONE

  “These are your friends?” Astrid asked under her breath.

  Sabine smirked. “They can hear you.”

  Face hot, Astrid forced a smile at the intimidating group. When she had asked Sabine if they could hang out with her friends, Astrid had envisioned a group of females similar to Ila but with less air between their ears. What she hadn’t expected was a band of surly beta males that looked like they could have been extras on the set of 300.

  There were eight men in total, all large, jacked, and staring at Astrid as though Sabine were presenting her on a dinner platter. One of them was in his wolf form, and Astrid recognized the muscle-bound, silvery wolf as Sylvestre. He lay behind the others, quietly dozing. The rest were unfamiliar and wholly unwelcoming.

  “Tu fais quoi, Sabine?” groaned an amber-eyed male. In heavily accented English, he asked, “Are you trying to get us killed?”

  “Don’t be absurd,” Sabine said, waving a hand back and forth. “Erik left her in my care. He does not expect me to sit alone with her all day. No offense, Astrid.”

  “None taken,” she said awkwardly.

  Erik had kept Astrid busy for several days, spending all of his free time inside of her. She’d be lying if she said she minded, but lately he had been more withdrawn than usual. It was almost impossible to engage him in conversation, and it hadn’t been until then that she realized how much she relied on talking with him to keep herself sane.

  While Erik was preoccupied with his duties as alpha, Astrid divided her time between working on Ila’s dress—usually while wrestling silk fabric from the jaws of Halley and Noona—and hanging out with Sabine. The beta female hung around her a lot, sometimes for a friendly chat, but oftentimes because Erik had mandated that Sabine be her babysitter while he was away from the den. It made for an odd dynamic between her and Sabine, because sometimes they genuinely enjoyed one another’s company, and others, Astrid could sense that Sabine harbored an underlying resentment for her.

  Today had been one such day. Erik usually left the den for only a few hours at a time, but yesterday, he and Sten had gone off in search of the scouts that had yet to return. He’d left Sabine in charge of Astrid, offhandedly remarking “I don’t know when I’ll be back” as he walked away. The tension in the room had been palpable, and in that moment, even she had resented Erik. Sabine was the closest thing Astrid had to a friend in the pack, and by turning Astrid into a burden on the other woman, Erik was inadvertently sabotaging their relationship.

  After a long and uncomfortable day, Astrid had suggested that they hang out with some of Sabine’s friends, in hopes that it would lift Sabine’s spirits. Apparently it had been the right move, because the moment she sat down with the guys, Sabine was all coy smiles and wisecracks.

  Astrid took a seat on the floor beside her. She drew her knees up to her chest, unintentionally making herself look smaller than she already was. When she was younger, her mother had always dismissed Astrid’s reticence to speak up in a group as shyness. But Astrid was far from shy. Rather, she had a bad habit of being overly talkative, and when she got started, she often rambled and lost track of what her point was. In a group setting, this social flaw
bordered on unbearable.

  The wolves didn’t speak in turn, and instead constantly spoke over one another, loudly proclaiming their points. Astrid tried to follow the conversations, but they spoke in a rapid mash up of French and English that reminded her of the Spanglish she’d grown accustomed to hearing in Miami.

  After only a few minutes, she began to miss Erik. She wondered how long it would be until he returned, and on a morbid train of thought, what would happen to her if he never came back. Would another male become alpha? Would he let her go, or keep her for himself?

  Movement to her left drew Astrid’s attention. She turned in time to see Sylvestre at the end of his shift. He sat down beside her, one leg stretched out, the other arched with his arm resting atop it.

  “Hello, Astrid.”

  Sylvestre had always been polite towards her during the trek to Siluit territory. Astrid had found his politeness to be off-putting, because he’d treated her like a being to manage and not like a flesh and blood person. He had never quite looked at her, but rather, he had seemed to look through her, as though she were made of glass.

  That was why the mischievous glint in his eyes and the wry slant of his mouth was so surprising to Astrid. If he hadn’t addressed her by name, she would have assumed he was talking to someone behind her.

  “Hi,” she said lamely. She tried to think of something clever to say, but only one thing popped into her mind. “Aren’t you cold?”

  He was completely nude and making no effort to cover himself. Over the past few weeks, Astrid had grown accustomed to seeing naked men. A secret part of her actually enjoyed it, though she tried not to enjoy it too much, otherwise her scent would give her away. She would have thought that being with Erik, a male so sexy that she couldn’t have even conjured him up in a fantasy, would make all other men seem bland by comparison. That was partially the case. Astrid had no interest in sleeping with anyone but him—not like she could if she wanted to. But her curiosity always got the better of her, and she couldn’t help but scope out the other males from time to time.

  Sylvestre had an impressive body. Unlike many of the other men, who seemed to be built for speed and maneuverability, he was sheer muscle power. He wore his long silver hair tied back at the nape of his neck. The light shade clashed with his dark bronze skin, and the effect was appealing in its uniqueness. Astrid could see no other hair on his body, not even below his waist, where his soft penis was draped over his thick thigh.

  In a voice that was positively sultry, he said, “On the contrary. I am quite hot.”

  Her mind stuttered. She hadn’t realized the others were listening until she heard them chuckling. Even Sabine had her hand up over her mouth.

  Winking, Sylvestre said, “They’re laughing at me, not you. Or rather, they’re laughing because they know that if Erik saw me right now, he would gut me.”

  “I highly doubt that,” Astrid said, finding her voice. It had only been a few weeks since Erik had laughed in her face at the notion that he would kill over her.

  Sylvestre scratched his nonexistent beard. “I am not so sure. You seem to be his favorite these days, though I do not know why.” He leaned in, expression devious. “You must do some very kinky things.”

  A week ago, Astrid might have slapped him for such an offensive comment. But while their sex could be extremely rough and often ended with Erik licking up blood from the bites and scratches he’d inflicted, it was a far cry from kinky. Astrid couldn’t help but grin as she wondered what Sylvestre would think if he knew that she’d had to coax his alpha into letting her give him oral sex.

  Astrid leaned in as well, and before she could think better of it, she trailed a finger down the line between his pectoral muscles.

  In her own sultry voice, she whispered, “You have no idea.”

  The group exploded with laughter. Sylvestre’s face turned several colors, and then he was laughing as well. He patted her on the back a little too hard and assured Astrid that she was going to fit in nicely with them.

  Sabine added, “But for Syl’s sake, don’t you ever let Erik see you doing that.”

  The rest of the day passed in a blur, mostly because Astrid was genuinely enjoying herself. The wolves seemed to make an effort to speak primarily in English, though Astrid did pick up a rich array of French profanity. She did her best to keep her errant mouth in check, and Sylvestre rescued her whenever she slipped up, cutting her off to crack a joke.

  Astrid lost track of time and didn’t realize she’d missed lunch until her stomach began growling. Sylvestre tried to excuse himself to get Astrid some salted meat from storage. Sabine stopped him.

  “Don’t bother. I’m hungry as well. Let’s hunt.”

  Her eyes were alight, much in the same way Noona’s did when Astrid picked up her tennis ball. Sylvestre quickly shut her down.

  “We can hunt, but you have to stay with Astrid.”

  Sabine glowered at him. “Not you, too. Astrid is an adult. She can take care of herself for a few hours.”

  Astrid distinctly remembered her first night in the den, when Sabine had warned her not to leave her room, unless of course she wanted to be raped by a lust-crazed werewolf. But she kept this to herself, as she sort of agreed with Sabine. She was getting used to the layout of the den and had no trouble navigating her way from the main room to her chamber. There, she had plenty of fresh water, blankets to keep herself warm, and Ila’s dress to keep her busy.

  “Allez!” The amber-eyed wolf barked as he stood. “Bring her with us.”

  “Good idea,” Sabine said, her smile returning. “Do you want to ride me, Astrid? Or would you prefer Sylvestre?”

  Her grin was infectious, and Astrid found herself a little amped up at the prospect of going on a hunt. She wasn’t keen on seeing an animal get killed, but it had been days since she’d been outside to get fresh air.

  “You’ll both ride me,” Sylvestre said. And with a stern glare at Sabine, he added, “And you’re to stay with her once we give chase.”

  “Fine, fine,” Sabine sighed. “You heard Beau. Allez.”

  ***

  Astrid regretted leaving the den almost instantly. She clung to Sylvestre’s fur, wincing against the blast of icy wind that stung her face. It was snowing out, and she had trouble seeing more than a few feet in front of her.

  Sabine, on the other hand, seemed thrilled. She sat behind Astrid, goading Sylvestre to speed up and barking at the other wolves.

  While she had no interest in watching them hunt, it did fascinate Astrid that they could not only track prey, but also communicate in such harsh weather.

  They traveled for a while before fanning out. Sabine quieted down then, though she occasionally made comments to Astrid, explaining what Sylvestre was doing. He climbed up a steep hill in hopes of getting a better vantage point, but from high up the region was still shrouded by falling snow. As the fresh snow muted sound, he had to rely solely on his nose to guide him.

  The evening wore on without any sign of prey. After about an hour, Astrid would not have minded seeing a muskox get disemboweled if it meant she could go back to the den and crawl under her warm furs.

  There was a howl in the distance, and Sylvestre stopped, his ears perking up to listen. As soon as it ended, Sabine howled back in response, seeming to forget that her mouth was right near Astrid’s ears. Astrid was still cringing as Sabine helped her down off Sylvestre’s back.

  “They found something,” Sabine said as Sylvestre headed out after the others.

  “What do you think it is? Muskox?” To Astrid’s shame, her mouth began to water at the thought.

  Sabine shook her head, her light brows drawn together. “No. Something else.” She sounded distracted. “Wait here.”

  Astrid immediately shook her head. “No way, are you crazy? I’ll die out here.”

  “Don’t be melodramatic.” She removed her pelt and wrapped it around Astrid’s shoulders. “This will keep you warm while I’m gone.”

  �
�Why don’t you take me with you?”

  Sabine clicked her tongue. “I’m not as big as the others. You’re too heavy for me. Now stay here. I’ll be right back.”

  She shifted and took off after Sylvestre. Astrid stomped her foot and yelled after her. “Thanks a lot.”

  Unlike the last time she’d been left alone on the tundra, Astrid didn’t dare move, not even to pace. She crouched down, huddling into a ball as she patiently waited for Sabine to return.

  And waited.

  And waited.

  Without the aid of a time-telling device, she could only guess how long she’d been there, and her perception was heavily skewed by how miserable she felt. With nothing better to do, she began counting the seconds. She gave up once she hit twenty-eight minutes.

  Up until that point, she’d been more aggravated than frightened. After all, it wasn’t as though Sabine and the others were going to leave her out there. But she began to worry that they might have gotten sidetracked. And did any of them know how quickly a human could get frostbite, or die of exposure?

  Sabine and Sylvestre’s tracks were being slowly buried beneath the snowfall. Astrid waited another ten minutes, until her feet began to tingle with numbness, and then she went after the others. She reasoned that it wasn’t as though she were wandering off, or even trying to backtrack to the den. She had a clear path to them and all she had to do was follow it.

  She walked in their footsteps, her anxiety waning. She felt proud to have come up with a plan on her own, rather than waiting around for the others to remember to come back for her. At least, that was until the ground slipped from beneath her feet. The snow had obscured everything around her, to the point that she wasn’t aware of what was happening at first. Then, she felt a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach as she lost her equilibrium and began to fall.

  Astrid didn’t pass out when she finally hit the ground, though she almost wished that she had. Pain lanced her skull. She ignored the pain and pushed herself up with her hands. When her vision stopped swimming, she saw that her head had hit a rock. Droplets of blood marred the fresh snow. The sight of it made her feel queasy, but not as much as her current predicament did.