“It’s an antibiotic, and this could be serious.”
“It’s a scratch.”
Astrid scowled and shoved her hand back into her glove. “Fine, but you’ll be sorry when I get sick and die. Maybe then, you’ll realize that you did like me after all, but by then it’ll be too late.”
She was grinning despite herself, and her smile only broadened when she heard Erik laugh.
“Enough,” he said, though his lips were still slanted. He pointed towards the hole he’d dug. “There are dozens of them down there, and we’re not leaving until you catch one on your own.”
All of the humor left her, and Astrid put her hands on her hips and dug her feet in. “No way. The next one will probably take my finger off, and since you seem to have forgotten, I’m pregnant. I can’t be running around, chasing lemmings, or any other animals. You know, where I come from…”
Astrid fell silent as a distant howl echoed over the tundra. It was high-pitched at first, but quickly panned out into a low, mournful sound. When it was over, she looked to Erik, feeling excited.
“They’re calling for you at the den.”
A smile broke over her face as he nodded, both because she was glad to be going home and because she was beginning to recognize what all of the different howls meant.
Appearing impressed, Erik gave her an affectionate pat on the head. He shifted back into his wolf form, and once he’d gathered up their prey in his mouth, she climbed onto his back.
Although they’d been hunting for what seemed like hours, they hadn’t been far from the den at all. Within fifteen minutes, they were within sight of the ravine that sheltered the entrance to the cave. At the top, a slender female was pacing in the snow. She looked up as Erik arrived, but quickly turned her head back down.
Astrid climbed from Erik’s back, freeing him up to shift again. From the lines of strain around his eyes, she could tell that the constant back and forth between forms was beginning to wear on him. She made a mental note to avoid provoking him for the rest of the evening, as his temper was bound to be short.
“What?” Erik asked, making no effort to mask his exasperation.
The young woman appeared anxious, and Astrid could remember when Erik used to have the very same effect on her. She’d gotten over it, but only after she’d realized Erik wasn’t going to kill her.
“I was actually hoping to speak with your mate,” she said, braving a glance at Astrid.
“Me?” Astrid asked, lighting up like a Christmas tree. “Yeah, of course, what can I—oww.”
Erik had clamped a hand down on Astrid’s shoulder. Per usual, he didn’t recognize his own strength.
“What do you want with her?” Erik asked the other shifter.
Astrid jerked her shoulder free and shot him a glare. “I can speak for myself, thanks.” She turned to the woman. “What can I do for you?”
The woman wet her chapped lips. “It’s Torok. He’s not faring well, and I was hoping you might know of something that could ease his discomfort.”
Briefly, Astrid was confused. Then, she remembered that Torok was the name of the wolf Erik had brought back from the bear encampment. She hadn’t seen him herself, but she’d heard in passing that he’d been malnourished, but was getting better.
“What’s wrong with him?” she asked.
The woman shook her head. “We don’t know. Last night, he began trembling and complaining that he was cold, but his skin is burning hot.”
“I thought your kind didn’t get sick?”
“We don’t,” she said. “At least, not when we’re in good physical condition.”
“I see.” Astrid frowned and scratched her chin. “I don’t know if I have anything to make him comfortable, but I do have some Tylenol that might help with the fever. Will you take me to him.”
“No,” Erik interjected, his tone so severe that it sent a spike of adrenaline shooting through Astrid’s veins. Before she could even think to argue, he said, “If he is ill, you will be putting yourself at risk.”
You’ll drag me across the tundra and make me catch rodents with my bare hands, but going near someone with a cold is where you draw the line?
Annoying as it was, Astrid did agree with him. She couldn’t afford to get sick, not when she was pregnant and so far from medical intervention.
Astrid looked between Erik and the female, and then smiled. “Okay, how about this? We’ll all go back to my room and I’ll get that Tylenol for you to give to him.”
***
Erik tensed as Shila pulled his mate into a tight embrace. He didn’t move from his place against the wall, but he did do a mental count, and was prepared to intervene if the she-wolf didn’t release his mate after a fixed number of seconds. Shila released her after five, narrowly avoiding his ire.
In the two weeks that he’d been back, Erik had developed an irrational and almost unmanageable possessiveness of his mate. He thought it might have a lot to do with Sabine’s attempted murder of her, yet keeping his mate constantly at his side had done little to assuage his anxieties. Whenever another female touched her, with the exception of his niece, he had to fight back a growl. And when another male came near her, he didn’t bother with restraining himself.
“Thank you so much,” Shila said. “I’m in your debt.”
“It’s no trouble at all,” his mate said. “Please, anything you need, don’t hesitate to ask.”
Shila thanked Astrid again, and then turned to Erik and bowed her head. “Thank you for bringing Torok home to us.”
“Hm.”
Shila took her leave, and his mate crouched down to dig through her bag. She called out, “It wouldn’t kill you to be a little nicer.”
“Hm.”
She extracted a tube of ointment and slip of beige paper from a crushed box that read “BAND-AID”. His eyes drifted away, scanning the room that she still referred to as her own, but no longer slept in.
The bed of furs in the corner reminded him of when he’d first brought her to his den. He had brought her back to this room with the intention of breaking her in. He could have never imagined that the frightened and whiny little human beneath him would, in the not too distant future, become his mouthy and whiny little mate. Had he known at the time how profoundly she would change him, he might have made good on his threat to throw her into the ravine.
There was a small stack of neatly folded cloths on the corner of the bed. His gaze lingered on them, as he noticed their odd shape. His mate was talking, though as so often was the case, she seemed to be more talking to herself than him. He didn’t mind, and was quite accustomed to the ambient noise of her chatter.
“…and the doctor said to me, which bandage do you want, the Barbie one or the flesh colored one. How racist is that?”
“What is this?” Erik asked, picking up one of the cloths.
His mate looked over at him, and then a proud smile broke over her face. “That’s a onesie.”
Which of course told him nothing.
“What purpose does it serve?”
She waved him over. “Bring it here and I’ll show you.”
Erik handed it to her, and she spread it out on her lap. “It’s for the baby. See? Head goes here, arms go there, and down at the bottom, legs! And this part in the middle, it’s usually buttoned with clasps. I have to figure out how to make some, but I’m not too worried, there’s still plenty of time. What do you think?”
It wasn’t practical to clothe a pup in such a thin fabric. The pup would likely spend its first few months bundled in furs, until it learned to shift, a natural process that the clothing might inhibit. But at the moment, under the weight of her hopeful and expectant gaze, he couldn’t tell her anything of this.
“It is interesting,” he said, and he was relieved when she appeared pleased.
“I can’t tell you how many of these I’ve bought for baby showers,” she said, carefully folding the garment back up. “Now these are mine…”
She b
eamed at him. “Thank you.”
“For what?” he asked.
She took his hand and placed it over her abdomen, and then laced their fingers together. “For this. With everything that’s going on, I have no business being happy, but I am.”
CHAPTER FOUR
“By my estimate, there is enough to last a month,” Beau said. “Perhaps two, if we ration heavily.”
Erik nodded in agreement. They were standing in the dome-shaped cavern that held their food stores. Row upon row of shelves had been hewn into the walls, holding everything from bundles of vegetation, spices, oils, and salted meats. The room had been Sabine’s responsibility, and she had managed it well. When he’d gone in there two months ago, all of the shelves, save for the two topmost, had been cram packed with food. In the weeks following Sabine’s death, almost everything with protein had been cleared out.
Under Erik’s meticulous watch, the storage room had seen a modest resupply, though nothing close to its former glory. He knew that no matter how hard he pushed the wolves, they would never be able to restock it during the winter months, when the nights were bitterly cold and most prey had either migrated south or had hidden itself underground.
“Do you think we’ll have to ration it?” asked his mate.
Erik said, “If there is a bad storm, or the winter is particularly long.”
“Or the bears come?”
He placed a hand on the small of her back. “That won’t happen.”
And if it does, I will make sure you are nowhere near this place.
“You have nothing to worry about,” Beau said to her. “I’m sure you will have first pick of all the tube roots and whale blubber.”
Her nose wrinkled. “There’s no whale blubber here.”
Beau pointed towards a sealed jar that was covered by a thin layer of dust. The liquid inside of it was a sallow color, but the contents were still edible. Probably.
“Whoa, you hunted a whale?”
Beau’s lips formed a wry grin. “Who do I look like, Moby Dick?”
Astrid laughed. “Moby Dick was the whale, silly.”
“Bien sûr. I was only testing you.”
Erik shot Beau a look that promised pain if the beta male continued to flirt with his mate. Beau read the signal loud and clear. With a small bow, the beta male excused himself. Astrid waited a moment, craning her neck down the hallway to make sure that he was out of earshot. Then, she turned to Erik and folded her arms under her breasts.
“Why would you do that? Do you have any idea how hard it is for me to make friends around here? Everyone either hates me because they think I killed Sabine or they’re terrified of me because you’re always glaring at them over my shoulder.”
Erik raised his chin. “Beau is not interested in being your friend.”
“Oh, come on. He’s obviously gay.”
“He is still a male.”
Instead of getting angry, his mate ruffled his hair and smiled at him. Any inclination he’d had to argue with her vanished. This had been happening a lot lately, and he was starting to wonder if she was learning how to manage him. He decided he wouldn’t think about that. Ignorance was bliss.
Her hand had moved on to stroke the side of his face. “I’m going to take a nap, okay?”
“We still have more hunting to do,” he said.
There was another hour of daylight left, and with the food stores as low as they were, Erik couldn’t afford to waste it. Easily one of the pack’s best hunters, he knew that he was doing his wolves no favors by staying in the den, even if it meant that the various administrative tasks that Sten was usually responsible for fell by the wayside.
“I think we both know that you’re much better off out there without me,” she said, running a finger down his neck. Her blunt fingernails scraped across his jugular vein. “Please, go do something useful and don’t worry about me. Besides, absence makes the heart grow fonder.”
Erik flicked her hand away from his neck, mostly because it was arousing him. “I don’t need to be fond of you.”
His mate frowned. “Wait, are you saying you’re not fond of me?”
Suppressing a grin, Erik guided her to the doorway. "Go. Take your nap. I’ll be back soon.”
Erik started down the tunnel, parting with his mate for the first time in two weeks. Leaving her turned out to be easy, and he was already looking forward to a long and bloody hunt. He only taken a few steps when he heard her call out to him.
“Oh, wait.”
He heard her boots clack against the stone floor and she ran over to him. She placed a hand on either of his shoulders and used the leverage to boost herself up. Her feet left the ground, and she was suspended in midair just long enough to press a quick kiss to his lips.
“Goodbye,” she said. “Be safe out there.”
She didn’t wait for Erik to respond, and he found himself standing in place watching as she headed down the tunnel, disappearing around a bend. He brought his fingers up to his lips where they hovered, not quite touching skin to skin.
His legs kicked into gear and he headed towards the main room. He still yearned for the thrill of a great hunt, but he now found himself wishing that he could be in two places at once.
With the exception of Beau, all of the other betas were already out hunting. Erik passed the main room and headed for the exit, intending on tracking their scents and meeting up with them. He scrapped this plan when he ran into Sylvestre on his way out.
Erik had not seen much of the younger male since they had returned. While he hadn’t sought Sylvestre out, he also hadn’t been avoiding him. Sylvestre had been channeling his grief over his sister’s death into the hunt, and had rarely been in the den.
“Sten told me everything,” Sylvestre said, forgoing greetings. “I know it wasn’t Astrid that killed my sister. And even if it had been, Astrid would have been justified.”
Erik hadn’t planned on bringing the subject up, but since Sylvestre had started it, he decided to ask the questions that had been on his mind for days.
“Did you know?”
Sylvestre didn’t appear offended. “No, course not.”
“Did you suspect it?”
“Did I suspect that she was going to try to kill your mate? No, I never thought she would do something so rash. But I did know that she cared about you. I just didn’t know how much.”
Outside the mouth of the cave, poor weather had already darkened the late afternoon sky. Snow fell in a benign flurry, but Erik had spent enough of his time on the tundra to sense when a bad storm was approaching.
“If she cared about me, she would not have tried to harm my mate.”
Sylvestre tugged at his ponytail. “You can’t blame her for being fucked up after what we went through.”
“You turned out well enough,” Erik pointed out.
“You probably would’ve said the same about my sister a few weeks ago,” Sylvestre said. “I’m starting to wonder if I’m not just going to snap and fuck everything up one day like she did… Like my father did.”
Erik’s lips twisted with displeasure at the mention of Sylvestre’s father, an alpha that it made Erik himself look like a benevolent and reasonable leader. Erik had done the world a favor when he’d removed his head from his shoulders.
“You are not like your father, any more than I am like mine.”
“But—”
“I have had enough talking for one day. Either come hunting with me, or point me in the direction of the nearest muskoxen herd.”
“The only muskoxen I’ve seen were at least two hours out,” he said, straightening his back. “Are you sure you want to be away from the den for that long?”
“The only thing I am sure of is that hunting lemmings is not an appropriate use of my talents. Let’s get going.”
CHAPTER FIVE
The muskoxen had been much farther out then Sylvestre had predicted, but once Erik had caught their scent, he hadn’t stopped until he’d felled one. Sylvest
re had taken one down as well, and then another, and then another, and then another. Eventually, Erik had to intervene and rein in the young beta male before he decimated the herd. They had killed far more than they could carry, but fortunately they had run into several of the other betas on their way back. Erik had instructed Sylvestre to guide them to the dead muskoxen, whose bodies were likely to have been preserved by the snowstorm.
All told, it had been nearly a full day since he’d left the den and his mate. He had no reason to feel guilty. After all, he had been out providing for his pack, providing for her and their unborn pup. He hoped she would see it that way, because no matter how pissed off she was at him, he planned on fucking her senseless.
Erik was greeted by dozens of eager pack mates as he entered the main room. He drugged the juvenile muskoxen to the center of the room and set it down, giving the signal for his wolves to feed. He backed off allowing them to swarm the carcass. His eyes scanned the room for Astrid, but she was nowhere to be seen. Before concern could set in, he reminded himself that this was the time she tended to want to nap each day, and he was certain he’d find her in their room.
He shifted into his human form, not bothering to look for something to clothe himself with. After a day out on the tundra, his den felt sweltering by comparison. He stretched his long arms up over his head and cringed. Usually, he relished the unique range of motion provided by the human body. But after half a day of dragging dead weight through the snow, the muscles in his back had become uncomfortably knotted.
All of the tunnels wove into one another, so he took the one nearest to him, jabbing his thumb into the small of his back as he walked. Within moments, he knew he was being followed, but his pursuer made no effort to hide her light footsteps, and because of that he knew she wasn’t a threat. He tilted his head to the side, just enough so that he could catch Ila’s scent.
He stopped, allowing her to catch up. She was wearing the blue dress his mate had made for her, which Erik found appropriately ostentatious to the histrionic female. Everything else about her appeared off, but in ways that he suspected would not be readily identifiable to most.
Enslaved by the Alpha: Part Seven Page 3