by Brynn Paulin
“Okay. Well, thanks.” Obviously, the store owner wouldn’t help, especially if she was part of Bar’s family. Was everyone around here related? So far, Summer was three for three.
The flicker of an idea lit in her brain, accompanied by a male voice—Bar’s—ordering her Don’t do it!
“Before I go…” Summer started, looking around with a lost expression. “I’m trying to get my bearings? Everything’s been so confusing. Do you have a map of the area?”
Mollie started to shake her head.
“Or tell me,” Summer quickly added. “What’s the nearest town? I have no idea where I’m at.”
“Oh, that would be Alatna. It’s about thirty miles east of here, but Barrow’s the nearest city. It’s—”
“Two hundred fifty miles. Yeah…they told me that. But it’s hard to figure out where I’m at from that, you know?” Summer’s thoughts whirled. Thirty miles? That wasn’t so bad. She’d done fifteen miles a day when she’d hiked the Appalachian Trail last year as part of a photo project. Yeah, she was walking out of here. She was fit and accustomed to wilderness survival. Who better to save the three of them?
Summer smiled. “Thank you. I appreciate your help today.”
Heading out of the store, she glanced at her watch and found it was only a little after nine, though it felt much later. In this part of September, the sun was up for about twelve hours here. If she got in gear, she could get in a good ten hours of hiking before dusk.
* * * * *
It had taken her almost an hour to find a warm parka, hat, gloves and a backpack at the house, then stow a few day’s worth of provisions. All the while, a pervading sadness clawed at her. She had to go, but her body kept begging her not to. It wanted to fuck Mika and Bar one—or twelve hundred—more times. And it was so tempting to fall into that. Their strong arms around her had filled her with a sensation of protection and belonging she hadn’t had since before her mother had died and her father had shut her out of his emotions.
But she couldn’t fall prey to sentiment. Fending for herself, taking care of herself had gotten her far. If there was anyone she could rely on, it was herself. Deep down, she knew Kelsey and Emmie needed her to be strong and find help. Her desire for the men who insisted she was their mate didn’t matter. It was mere chemical reaction and nothing more.
Forcing steel into her spine, she surveyed her gear. Walking out of here might border on foolhardy, but she didn’t feel as if she had a choice. What worried her most were the freezing overnight temperatures. But that just meant she had to be prepared. At least there was no snow.
Her jaw set, she stuffed extra clothes in a plastic rucksack, wishing she had extra jeans. After stowing them in the backpack, along with the food, a canteen and matches, she attached the thick sleeping bag she’d also found on the shelf—but not before stuffing an extra blanket in the roll. It would still be cold, but that would help. She almost cheered when she found a small tarp in the storage area off the kitchen. A windbreak. Perfect.
Summer…
She startled to hear Mika’s voice in her head. Steeling herself, she stepped out the back of the house with her gear in place and her winter clothing somewhat disguising her identity—she hoped. She knew full well she had to skirt the town to get to the east.
Summer, please, nuliaba abnaba. Don’t do this. It’s too dangerous. Wait until we get home. There was a pause before Mika added, We’ll talk.
Right. She believed that. They’d woo her right back into their bed. She only hoped their voices would fade from her head with time and a whole lot of distance.
Summer, damn it! No! Bar swore, and she ignored him.
Her head started to throb as a strange feline howling set up inside it.
* * * * *
Fillion wasn’t answering his damn phone. Bar flipped shut his cell and cursed his brother. The one time they needed him in communication, he’d left his phone off. He tried Mollie, Buck and, finally, Orvie next door. No one answered. It’d been over an hour since he and Mika had realized Summer’s plans, but they couldn’t raise anyone to help them. They desperately needed someone in Caribou Run to stop their mate before she went too far.
“Call your mom,” he told Mika, who’d been pacing back and forth in the empty conference room while Bar tried to reach Fillion. His cluster mate’s hair stood on end from continually driving his fingers through it. He dropped a hand on Mika’s shoulder. “If she’s still at the airport, maybe she can catch my brother before he takes off for Barrow. Try her again.” She’d been one of the first ones they’d tried when they’d first been unable to reach Fillion.
“Sure.” Dark circles shadowed the skin beneath Mika’s eyes and Bar knew his friend was exhausted. He’d been calling out continually to Summer, but she’d managed to somehow tune him out. Or she was remarkably good at ignoring her mates.
Nuliaba abnaba, Bar pleaded while Mika was on the phone. You’re hurting Mika. You’re hurting me. Do you want that?
I’m sorry, came her quiet reply, then silence again. Even across the miles separating them, he felt her pain. She didn’t really want to go. She just thought it was her only option, what she was supposed to do.
Just stay. Talk to us about this.
I can’t…
He was so focused on her, he startled when his phone rang.
“Bro, what’s up?” Fillion asked jovially. “I’ve gotta tell you that mate of yours… Real firecracker. Almost took my head off—”
“She left.”
“What?”
“She left. On foot.”
“Gods,” Fillion breathed. They all knew the rigors and dangers of the land around Caribou Run. Even seasoned hunters from their village had been injured by the treacherous terrain and unexpected precipices. “I’ll go after her—”
“No, come and get us.”
“But—”
“The quickest way to track her is as lynx. You won’t be able to communicate with her and you know seeing a giant wild cat will probably terrify her. She’s still recovering from the crash. I’m sure that will slow her down.”
“What about your meeting?” Fillion persisted.
“It’s done. They’re cutting back, but Mika and I are safe for now. It doesn’t matter, not with our mate in danger. Come and get us. We can follow her scent and her thoughts and you’d be hunting blind. If we have to, we can keep her warm once the sun sets. She…she needs to know what we are anyway.”
“And now when she’s running is a good time for that?” his brother asked in disbelief, not pointing out that as a shifter, his scent tracking abilities were top-notch.
“Just come get us.” Bar snapped shut his phone and refocused on Summer as he gave Mika a sharp nod to let him know Fillion was coming. Though it was difficult, he tried to see through Summer’s eyes, to see where she was. She was heading east, that much he knew. But how far would she be before they could get to her? The flight between Caribou Run and Fairbanks was three hours round trip. The only thing that calmed him was the advantage of his and Mika’s shifter abilities.
He didn’t like her out there alone, but he knew this was the best choice. They would find her, then there would be hell to pay…and somewhere in there, they’d convince her, she truly belonged with them.
Chapter Six
Summer had started regretting her decision a few hours into her hike. Right about the time the snow had started to fly. In preparation for her job with the Inupiat tribe at Sisuaq Ablu, she’d read enough about Northern Alaska to know this wasn’t a freak fall storm. It snowed up here and it snowed a lot. It could go from a mild autumn day to the depths of winter within a couple hours.
Just like now.
She’d been walking for five hours. At first, the activity had warmed her, and she’d been ready to shuck a few layers. Now she hunched into her borrowed too-big parka determined to keep going even though her legs were beginning to feel like denim-covered ice blocks. The trail was rough, but she estimated she was clos
e to a third of the way to Alatna. She only prayed it was big enough that she didn’t go blowing past it and miss it completely. Or that her sense of direction and the compass in her watch were still spot on enough that the fierce winds wouldn’t blow her off course.
She frowned, mentally berating herself. Truth be told, this was probably one of the most stupid-assed things she’d ever done. Hindsight was great, and right now hers was telling her she’d made a massive mistake. She’d gotten her head in flight mode, objecting to being held against her will, and she’d run even though going anywhere on foot around here was foolhardy.
What had been so bad back there? She’d wanted to study a native tribe’s day-to-day existence while doing a photo pictorial and she would have had ample opportunity to do that in Caribou Run. Most of those she’d seen there appeared to be of Inupiat descent.
She closed her eyes against the sting of tears. She couldn’t blame them on the biting wind. Her heart hurt from her regret. Even more, it ached from leaving Mika and Bar. In just the short time the three of them had been together, they’d grown on her and burrowed into her psyche—telepathic connection aside. And perhaps that contributed to the quick bond between them. She knew their thoughts and felt their emotions.
Looking behind her, she saw nothing but icy wilderness though she almost wished she’d see the gray shape of Caribou Run in the distance. But there was only rock, brush, a smattering a trees and more snow than she’d ever wanted to see. It swirled in great billows, lifted and carried by the wind. The flakes blew sideways around her, pelting her face and blinding her.
This wasn’t a mere storm. She’d been dumb enough to go running out into a blizzard.
Nice move, genius, she thought. She had to find some sort of shelter and maybe figure out a way to start a fire. Hunched forward and fighting the wind that threatened to blow her backward with each slow step, she struggled ahead. She’d seen a group of large rocks up ahead. Maybe she could get respite from the elements there and use her tarp to create a wind-block and a makeshift shelter.
Summer.
Yes, she answered Bar automatically, almost desperate for his voice right now. I’m so cold, she thought as she shuddered. I mean, I’m so sorry…
We know, baby, Mika returned.
But don’t think you’re not in trouble.
Bar! Mika admonished.
She wouldn’t care what the penalty was, as long as she was out of this freezing storm. Ice was mixing with the snow now and she knew her parka would soon be sodden with it.
Summer, Mika went on. Don’t be afraid.
I…I can’t help it. This weather… I didn’t expect… She’d never see them again. Or her father. Or her friends. She’d never be warm again. Oh God—
Baby, Bar cut in. Focus. We’re going to find you and you’ll be fine. I promise.
His vow sank through her, a warm shaft of hope. She clutched at it, needing the assurance. Though he was still in Fairbanks, she could almost feel him—both of them—near her. Their presence wrapped around her, but when she tried to move toward their sensation, she realized she’d fallen to her knees. The drift came halfway up her thighs and she considered curling up and letting it cover her completely. Surely it would be warm under the blanket of white.
She’d wait right here until tomorrow when they came back…
Summer! Don’t you do that! Mika growled at her. Get up! Get up now and start walking. Walk as fast as you can.
Every bone inside her hurt. The cold had seeped so deep inside her, she was sure she heard her joints creak as the frozen cartilage rubbed. She stumbled as she made it to her numb feet. Snow caked her gloves. The impact as she clapped her hands to knock off the crust of ice jolted painfully up her arms.
I think I’d like some of your grandmother’s tea now, she told them.
Silence met her statement. She was either alone in her thoughts, she’d imagined the men speaking to her or they were far from amused.
Whatever.
Now that she was up, she started trudging again, the movement helping a little.
Baby? It was Mika again.
I thought you’d gone.
No, we’re here with you.
We won’t ever leave you, Bar added, and the irony didn’t escape her. They wouldn’t leave her the way she’d left them. Right. Points for the guys.
Now, look to your left, he continued, cutting through her mental babbling. Don’t be afraid. They won’t hurt you.
That didn’t settle well with her, but she turned her head and almost fell as she stumbled backward. Two huge lynx stared, unblinking, up at her. Their fur blew in the stiff wind, yet the gusts didn’t sway their rock-solid stances.
Follow them, Mika said. His words were straightforward, yet she heard his amusement and relief. They’ll lead you to safety, he added.
No freaking way.
One of the cats let loose a feline scream. Loping through the drifts that parted them, it circled behind her and butted its head into her rear. She stumbled toward the other cat. It tilted its head, then turned and slowly walked into the haze created by the storm’s billows. The other lynx smacked the top of its head into her again to get her moving, and when her steps stuttered forward in reaction, it caught her sleeve in its huge mouth and dragged her forward.
Nuliaba abnaba, you are the most difficult woman, Bar complained.
Difficult? How did the men even know how she’d reacted?
She tugged at her arm and the lynx holding her growled.
Peachy. Kidnapped by two men, then held captive by a pair of wild cats.
Don’t whine, baby, Mika told her. We told you we’d take care of you.
Take care of me? I’m being dragged off to these things’ lair. What would they do to her there? Did lynx prefer live kill? She had no idea. In truth she knew very little about these cats other than she’d thought they were smaller than thispair.
What worried her most was that they were leading her north and if she managed to escape them, she didn’t know if she’d be able to find her way to Alatna.
The lynx holding her growled again.
Alatna, Mika scoffed. Baby, you should ask some questions before you take off on adventures. Alatna’s population is all of thirty-seven. Of course, Allakaket is nearby, but you would have had to cross a river.
You’re going back to Caribou Run, Bar informed her.
Frankly, anywhere with heat sounded like a good deal to her right now. The lynx are taking me back there?
Neither man answered. She trudged in silence, ready to fall with each step. Her clothes had absorbed the sleet and felt as if they weighed a million pounds. Her body seemed so numb, she wasn’t even sure she’d be able to work her fingers to take off the clothing.
Suddenly, a structure loomed in front of them and Summer cried out in relief—if her tiny gasp could be considered a cry, because that was the only sound that would come from her burning lungs.
The place appeared deserted and she hoped she’d be able to get in.
There’s no lock, one of the men told her. Her thoughts were fuzzy and she wasn’t sure anymore who was speaking. She leaned against the shack’s wall, her eyes closed as she breathed heavily and rested her head on the wood.
The lynx closest to her butted her again and she nearly fell, only staying upright as she braced her hand on the rough siding.
Summer, you have to walk.
She didn’t want to, yet with the animal pushing her with its head, she shuffled forward to where the other cat waited.
Open the door, nuliaba abnaba.
Blinking, she tried to focus on the entrance before her and the rope latch holding it shut. With nerveless fingers, she fumbled fruitlessly with the closure and batted at it when her frustration grew. Tears pricked her eyes and her chest heaved as silent sobs racked her body. She couldn’t do it. She couldn’t do this simple task.
Focus, Summer, one of her men urged. Focus and get inside, then we’ll take over.
She lean
ed on the door and tried to summon strength from Bar and Mika’s words. I’m so sorry, she thought. She could be at their home, warm in bed or maybe staying inside with a hot mug while watching the snow and enjoying the sight of the flakes painting the land. Not here…
Her eyes closed again as the sharp pins of ice stabbed at her skin. Both cats let out feline roars, one of them grabbing her arm and shaking hard.
Summer, damn it! Bar bellowed as her senses cleared slightly.
She looked down at the silvery-green eyes staring up at her. So strange…
Now, Summer!
With the last of her strength, she reached for the rope and managed to get her hand loosely wrapped around it. Lifting sharply with a clumsy jerk, she released the latch then fell into the wood and onto the floor as the door swung away.
The lynx rushed past her, leaping over her body as she lay panting on the rough planks. One of the animals grabbed her jacket and hauled her the rest of the way inside while the other used his body to push the door shut.
A gold glow exploded before her eyes, then her men stood there, naked and leaning over her.
“Pretty,” she muttered, then darkness claimed her.
Working quickly, Mika and Bar rushed around the old shack. A wood stove sat in the corner and whoever had been here last had left a pile of logs near it. Mika ignored the bite of cold on his skin as he shoved logs and kindling inside the burner, then pulled matches from the Ziploc someone had put them in to protect them against getting damp. These places were left out here for hikers or travelers like themselves who might get caught in the elements. Everyone left behind something for the next occupants to use.
After several attempts, he got the wood to catch. Soon heat began to fill the small space while the storm continued screaming outside.
As soon as the blizzard had blown in, they’d known there would be trouble. The snow blanketing the ground had played havoc with following Summer’s scent. Though she’d only managed ten miles from town, it had taken them twice as long to find her than it should have.
He turned to find Bar wrestling the backpack from Summer’s limp body. If they’d taken any longer to find her, she would have frozen to death. As he helped get her gear and clothes off her, the blue tinge of her skin and lips sent fear spiking into his chest. What if they were too late?