Ginnifer smoothed out her hair. “Well, we are in a den of wolves,” she said dismissively. “What did you want?”
“We were supposed to interview Marl,” he reminded her.
Right. Flower room. Shit.
She was glad to hear her own voice again, rather than her holier than thou conscience.
“Is Breeze okay with you trashing her room like this?” Boaz asked, looking around.
Ginnifer gave the room a cursory look. There were a few of her things lying around, but it wasn’t too bad and she knew where everything was.
“Are you kidding? This is the cleanest room I’ve ever had.”
Boaz scratched the back of his head. “That’s not really saying much. Remind me when we get done with Marl and I’ll help you clean this up before Breeze sees it.”
Getting up from bed, she followed Boaz into the hall. It was quiet, with most of the wolves either still in the common room or retiring for the night. Everything that she’d read had said that werewolves were nocturnal, but Siluit wolves slept in shifts, with the bulk of the population sleeping during the first half of the long night. They were partial to rising before the sun, something that Ginnifer was accustomed to, though she dragged a little without coffee.
Marl’s room was easy to find. Intricate floral designs had been carved in the stone around the doorway, which was blocked off by a patchwork quilt on the outside and a worn pelt on the inside. They peeked in to find the room dark and cold, and before they could decide what to do next, Marl’s voice carried over from across the hall.
“Wait for me in there. I’ll be right in.”
Ginnifer turned to find that the pelts on the adjacent room were pulled back just enough for her to see inside. Marl sat on a chair beside a bed, a large book in her hand. She was speaking too softly to be heard in the hallway, her expression serene. Ginnifer took a few steps to the side, and the new angle revealed three small children, two lying side by side in the bed, and the third laying on her belly across them.
“Where do they all come from?” Ginnifer mused aloud.
“Nataq mostly,” Boaz said. He lowered his voice. “At least, I think that’s what Tallow said. It’s a village not far from here. There’s a woman there, her daughter Kya is one of the Siluit wolves, and every so often, she makes a trip out here to bring the kids to the pack.”
“But where does she get them from?” Ginnifer asked as they ducked inside Marl’s room. The light from Boaz’s lantern illuminated the room, but it was still uncomfortably cold.
Frowning, Boaz said, “People leave them with her. It’s sort of a well-known secret that she has ties to the local pack, and women come from as far south as Quebec and as far west as Alaska to give her their kids.”
His words made Ginnifer queasy. “That’s horrible. They abandon their children?”
“I don’t think it’s that simple,” he said, already setting up his camera. “The way Tallow described it to me, trying to raise a shifter child in human society sounds like trying to keep a lion cub in a Manhattan apartment. Maybe you can get away with it for a little while, but it’s going to grow up and—”
“Kid, you don’t know the half of it,” Marl said as she stepped into the room. “I tried for five years with Enzo before I knew I was out of my depth. A pup needs a pack, older wolves to guide them and teach them how to control themselves and work with others.”
“But why leave them? I mean, you came to live with Enzo, right? Are the mothers not allowed to join the pack?”
“No, Zane and his father before him, they let any woman come that wanted to. Some do, but they never stay. This life isn’t for everyone. And as for the others, well, I imagine most of them are just glad be rid of the burden, like finding a new home for a dog.”
Ginnifer found the analogy appalling, but she didn’t show it. She didn’t know how anyone could see the young shifters as anything but the children that they were. While Marl didn’t appear particularly troubled by what she’d said, it was clear by the fact that she’d chosen to stay with her son, that she didn’t share the sentiment of the other mothers.
“You,” Marl said, pointing a boney finger at Boaz. “Go find somewhere else to be, this talk is just between us girls.”
“But I’m the cameram—”
“I said, shoo,” Marl said, ushering him through the door.
Marl waited at the doorway, listening for the sound of Boaz’s retreating footsteps. When she turned around, she motioned towards the camera and said, “Put that thing away. There are plenty of pretty people to film here, no one wants to see my ugly mug.”
“Oh…” Ginnifer said, getting up to turn off the camera. “If you want to do a written interview, I’ll have to go get my notebook.”
“I didn’t ask you here for an interview,” Marl said, taking a seat on the edge of her bed. She patted the spot next to her and waited for Ginnifer to sit. “Enzo and I are going to Port Trent next week and before I go, I wanted to ask if you needed birth control.”
Ginnifer gaped at Marl, but she continued talking, oblivious. “And don’t say you brought condoms because they’re no good. Even if you could get him to use one, there are never enough, take it from me. Besides, what you need is something hormonal, you know, gums up the works for a while so that your scent isn’t driving him crazy.”
“Him, who?” Ginnifer asked in a strangled voice.
Marl tossed up her hands. “Whoever, preferably not my Enzo, but let’s be serious, you aren’t interested in that skinny bowl head, no more than that cute little camera boy you brought tagging along after you. I’d wager you have your sights set higher.” She pressed her lips thin. “Much higher.”
“I’m not—”
“I know, I know, you’re not planning on doing anything. But take it from me, it doesn’t matter what your plans are, you’ll be like a cat in heat when you’re fertile, especially if you let him sink those teeth into you.”
Some of Ginnifer’s anxiety gave way to amusement. This was reminding her a lot of the sex talk her grandmother had given her the night before senior prom, though there was less talk about fangs and teeth, and more reminders that God was always watching. Ginnifer had quickly turned it around on her grandmother, and she’d spent a half hour trying to explain to her how Depo-Provera worked, and then another hour backpedaling and promising her it was only to regulate her period, not because she was having copious amounts of underage sex.
“Don’t worry, I’m covered,” Ginnifer assured.
She’d gotten her last Depo shot the week before she left, and it was still good for at least another month. Not that she planned on needing it.
“Was that really the only reason you asked me here?”
Marl eyed her flatly. “You’d be glad I did if you weren’t on anything. Honestly, I don’t know what he was thinking, bringing a pretty girl like you back to the den. Like father, like son, I suppose.”
“What do you mean?” Ginnifer asked, scooting a little closer.
Marl’s lips were squeezed shut, as though she were afraid something would slip out.
“Off the record?” Ginnifer offered.
Her mouth popped open. “All right, all right. It’s really none of your business though. Back around the time Enzo and I came here, things weren’t nearly so peaceful as they are now. Southern packs were driven from their lands by human development, and everyone was fighting over territory, this one especially.”
“Why this one?”
“Location,” Marl said. “Not every pack has caribou herds coming right up to its doorsteps every year, or muskox lounging out in its back yard. Not to mention, we could fish up enough in the inlet to keep us fed all winter if need be. While most packs have to wonder where their next meal might be coming from, half the time we’re throwing away meat we don’t finish.”
Many times, different members of the pack had mentioned that Siluit had a lot of resources, but Ginnifer had taken it as boastful exaggeration. It hadn’t really occu
rred to her that their experience might be so drastically different from those of other packs.
Marl continued, “Zane’s mother was gone by then, but Ephraim, the former alpha, wasn’t overmuch interested in taking a mate. Still, with the security of his pack in mind, he agreed to mate with Shale, who was, at the time, the daughter of the alpha of Sedna. Are you following me so far?”
Ginnifer nodded. “It was like a political marriage? Zane’s father and Shale became mates to form an alliance between Siluit and Sedna.”
“Yes and no,” Marl said. “Ephraim and Shale never became mates. A few weeks before she was supposed to come to Siluit, Ephraim found Jill, half-frozen to death and babbling about being on some nature expedition.”
“She was human?”
“Bingo,” Marl said, looking none too happy about it. “And the moment he laid eyes on her he forgot all of his good sense. By the time Shale came down from the north, Jill was already pregnant with Indigo, and Ephraim refused to demean Jill by taking a second mate.”
Ginnifer leaned back on the balls of her hands, her face slack with surprise. She would have never guessed that Zane and Indigo were half brother and sister, or that Indigo was half human. Though thinking back, it should have been obvious, given that Indigo didn’t shed a pelt when she shifted.
“When Sedna found out that Ephraim took a human mate over Shale, they were not happy,” Marl emphasized the words, signaling that it was a massive understatement. “They probably would have been biting at our heels with the rest of the packs, if Ephraim and their alpha didn’t come to an agreement. It was decided that when Zane came of age, he would take—”
“Coral?”
“—Tallow as his mate.” Marl gave her a stern look for interrupting.
“What? Tallow? I’ve never heard anything about that.”
“That’s probably because nothing ever came of it. Zane and Tallow liked one another well enough, but when she got older, it became apparent that she wasn’t like the rest of the females in her line. She couldn’t have pups, so she couldn’t be anyone’s mate, least of all Zane’s, with his pretty pedigree. So, not long before Ephraim passed away, God rest his soul, it was decided that Zane and Coral would be mates.”
“And Zane agreed to that? It sounds a lot like he’s being tied down because of his father’s indiscretion.”
“Ephraim had just as much right to choose his own mate as Zane did,” Marl said patiently. “The only difference is that Zane cares more about the stability of his pack than he does about himself, and don’t you go making that sad face. Every one of us has to make sacrifices in this life, and that’s his. Now, you do know why I’m telling you all of this, right?”
“You like to gossip?” Ginnifer asked hopefully.
Marl laughed, mirth making her eyes sparkle. “I do, but I think we both know that’s not it.”
Ginnifer nodded, mostly to herself. “You don’t want Zane to make the same mistake as his father.”
“I’m not saying Jill was a mistake,” Marl said softly. “I’ve never met a brighter soul, and I’m sure you would make Zane a hell of a lot happier than that bratty slip of a girl, Coral. But if you understand anything, it has to be that you don’t understand anything, at least not when it comes to wolves or pack politics. Things are peaceful now, but without Sedna’s support, there will be a lot of eyes on this little piece of paradise.”
Ginnifer considered telling Marl that she had a fiancé, and that she wasn’t interested in Zane. But she wasn’t even sure she could convince herself, let alone this shrewd woman, that she didn’t have some sort of feelings for the alpha, even if it was only lust.
“You have my word,” Ginnifer said. “I won’t meddle with things I don’t understand. In fact, do you think I could go with you and Enzo to Port Trent? There’s something I need to do.”
CHAPTER TEN
“We can fence in that region over there, and then build a barn—”
“Where the fuck are we going to get the wood for that, Dax?” Tallow said, cutting the male off for the sixth time. She spun in a circle, waving her arms at the open tundra. “Wait, let me guess, you’re going to grow a forest first, then cut the trees down, then build the barn, and then domesticate a herd of muskoxen.”
Dax gave Zane a desperate look, his big eyes pleading. Like most of the wolves, he had no idea how to manage Tallow. Half the time, Zane didn’t know either.
“Let him finish, Tallow,” Zane said, patting her on the top of the head. She made a face at him, but quieted down.
It seemed like he spent almost every day stuck between two or more of his wolves, mediating one discussion or another. He wouldn’t mind it so much, if it left him with any time to do the things that he enjoyed, hunting in particular. But all too often, the morning hunt left without him, while he lagged behind listening to proposals and bickering.
The sun was still to the east, but creeping ever closer to the center of the sky as Zane stood on a melting snow dune, staring out over a valley of dark rock, which held the beginnings of mossy vegetation.
“There are forests to the south,” Dax said, his eyes on Zane as he spoke. “It would be an endeavor, I know, but we can bring the wood up, and in the long term, it will be worth it. We could have milk and cheese. Maybe we could even use the manure to fertilize crops. I have some ideas on how we could grow them inside of the barn.”
Zane waited for Dax to finish, and then gave him an approving look. “It is a very good idea, but there are some things you’re not considering. Least of which is that I don’t believe the muskoxen will ever be at ease around us. They can sense what we are, and it would be very difficult to domesticate them. The other issue is that if we begin building structures around the area, we could draw unwanted attention to ourselves.”
Dax’s idea to domesticate muskoxen had been brought to Zane on many occasions, usually by shifters who’d spent a decent portion of their lives among humans and were eager to bring human ingenuity to the pack. He was accustomed to turning down the proposal, though he never enjoyed doing it.
“We may as well start building houses,” Tallow said, unable to hold her tongue. “And while we’re at it, we can put up a neon sign that says SHIFTERTOWN in big, flashing letters. And beneath that, it’ll say…”
Zane would have reprimanded her, but the wind shifted and a faint scent seized his attention. His mouth began to salivate, and he walked away from the arguing pair, his nose guiding his feet along the scent trail.
On the opposite side of the dune, he could see three figures in the distance, heading towards the inlet. Another sniff of the air had him scowling, and he was following after them before he could think better of it.
It was a long run, even in his wolf form, but he managed to catch up to them as they reached the docks. Boaz was in one of the boats, holding his stomach and laughing hard enough for tears to spring from the corners of his eyes. Kuva stood by the boat, casting a concerned look at Ginnifer, who stood with her hands clenched into fists and a sour look on her face.
“I knew you wouldn’t do it,” Boaz said. “You owe me fifty bucks.”
“I never said I wasn’t gonna do it,” she shot back. “All I asked was if he thought the boat would hold all three of us.”
His laughter dying down, Boaz said, “You’re shaking like a leaf. Just wait here and I’ll get the shots—”
“I’m shaking because it’s like, negative ten degrees out here.”
Zane shifted back into his human form as he approached, but none of them, not even Kuva, noticed him right away. It pissed him off to think that he could get so close to Ginnifer without the beta male noticing.
“Let me help you,” Kuva said, putting his hands on Ginnifer’s hips. He tried to lift her up, but she let out a whimpering cry and wriggled from his grasp. Boaz broke into another fit of laughter.
“Fifty bucks,” he taunted. “And not that Canadian Monopoly money, either.”
“What the hell are you doing?” Za
ne asked, stalking over to the end of the dock.
Kuva looked up, startled, and Boaz went pale in the face. Ginnifer looked surprised, but however angry Zane might have appeared, it didn’t seem to faze her as much as it should have.
“We’re working,” she explained, motioning towards the boat. “Kuva offered to show us how he catches fish.”
Zane folded his arms across his chest. “You can film that from the shore.”
Her face tightened. “I’m getting on the damn boat. Why does everyone think I won’t get on the boat?”
It took Zane a second to realize that they were having two different arguments. Eyes narrowing, he said, “No, you’re not getting on that boat. You’re not going anywhere but back to the den.”
Her anger gave way to confusion. “What? Why?”
Zane was so accustomed to being obeyed, that her questions gave him pause. He knew why he didn’t want her on the boat. It wasn’t safe, and more to the point, he didn’t want her going anywhere with Kuva. Just seeing the other male put his hands on her made Zane’s teeth gnash together.
He made his voice hard. “You made us walk halfway across the island because you saw a whale, and now you’re jumping back into a boat to take pictures of catching fish? Get back to the den and let Kuva do his job without you slowing him down.”
Zane turned and walked away, the hurt look on her face making him angrier with himself than he was with Kuva.
***
“What do you think is up with him?” Boaz asked. He kept his voice low and looked over his shoulder to make sure the alpha wasn’t nearby.
The trek back to the den was almost a half hour, and Ginnifer’s legs were tired. They’d been walking for ten minutes before anyone said anything, but her mind had been buzzing. She’d seen him speak firmly to his pack members before, but never really to her, and that had been plain mean. It had taken her aback so much that she wasn’t even angry, just upset and wondering what she’d done to make him talk to her like that.
“Maybe he’s having a bad day,” she offered.
Capturing the Alpha (Shifters of Nunavut Book 1) Page 10