Exploring Alaska (The Juneau Packs Book 3)

by Katherine Rhodes

“Many and deep. She has triggers, including any kind of sharp instruments. Most times, she’s okay. It only takes a deep breath to regain control. But occasionally… well, she went full on panic in bio lab when the TA pulled out a scalpel and stared slicing a pig open. That required Xanax and two of us restraining her in a special blanket.”

  “A thundershirt?”

  Jess started laughing. “If you call it that, she’ll slug you. It’s called weighted blanket for humans.”

  “Well, now I have to buy her a thundershirt.”

  “You’ll end up eating it, whole.”

  We both chuckled a bit, the levity desperately needed at that moment.

  I had more questions. “Therapist?”

  “Several, though she’s down to just one now, who specializes in sexual trauma and sexual dysfunction.”

  Shaking my head, I dropped it into my hands. “She’s…”

  “Fully functional, but Patrick…she doesn’t feel sexual desire. Or, hadn’t until you. She swore she would never ask me to tell someone about all this until she felt desire. And she’s apparently doing much better than I thought because she didn’t run, she told you to come talk to me, and I didn’t have to find her weighted blanket to calm her down when the feeling hit.”

  I nodded. “That’s why she asked me to be patient. That some days she’ll be handsy and other days she’ll run screaming.”

  “Bingo. It’s just that with all this, adding your hairy problems to it, it’s going to be a bit to handle.”

  “It will be, but I think I’m kind of determined to make this work with her. We only get one mate in life, and I want to find out more about her.”

  “Things like her favorite color and food? Things not related to her previous life.”

  “Exactly.” I nodded. “Thank you, Jess. Now I know, and now I know what I have to do.”

  Jess gave me a smile. “I hope you get her to feel everything without fear again.”

  Chapter Seven

  It wasn’t sunrise when Patrick banged on the door.

  That was way too early. The sun came up in Alaska at four a.m. this time of year. I was not a morning person.

  “Come on, sleepyhead,” he chided through the door.

  “Fuck you.”

  He chuckled. “Come on, Addi. Up and at ’em, we have to get the plane prepped and ready to go.” He turned the knob and cracked the door open wide enough to look in.

  I stuck my middle finger up from under the blankets.

  “Don’t make me come in there.”

  Hoisting my other hand, I offered the other middle finger. The sheets yanked back and I shrieked at the sudden cold air.

  And the fact that I was wearing a T-shirt and panties.

  “Patrick!” I groped for the bedding.

  “Mmm. Ice cream.” He waggled his eyebrows at the little ice cream cones on my pink underwear.

  Finally, I just settled for a pillow and pulled that over my lap. “Damn it, it’s cold and early and I’m not decent.”

  “I don’t know about that.”

  Grabbing the other pillow, I whaled him on the side of the head. He chuckled and grabbed it before it hit the bed.

  “Come on. The count takes all day and I want to be back here by sundown. I hate trying to close up the plane in the dark.”

  I sighed, then stared at him. “You can leave.”

  “Do I have to?”

  He was playing with me, and by God, I liked it. Flirting was fun.

  Lifting the pillow, I gave him a long-suffering sigh. Then before he could say or do anything, I hit him in the face with it, knocking him back on the bed as I vaulted up and out of his reach.

  Patrick was fast, though. He was in front of me a half a heartbeat later with one of the pillows. He hefted it in his hand, weighing it. “Hmm.”

  “Let me get dressed. In private.”

  He shrugged and stepped back, but there was mischief in his eyes. I took a step back and turned to grab some clothes out of my bag.

  The pillow hit me square on the ass.

  Insulted and shocked, I gasped and jumped. “Patrick!” I spun—

  Only to find myself backed against the wall, bracketed by his arms, and his face just inches from mine. His eyes roamed every inch of my face, tracing my lips and cheeks and chin without even a featherlight touch.

  “I like your panties.”

  Jesus jumping crickets. I could feel myself knotting up with desire. Butterflies were hovering in my stomach, and they were the lusty ones, not the frightened ones.

  “Do you now?” I asked softly.

  “I’d like them more on the ground.”

  My butterflies moved from hovering to ‘practicing gymnastics.’ “Would you?”

  “Mmm-hmm.”

  “What happened to taking this slow?”

  “If we weren’t, they’d already be on the ground and you’d be riding dirty, cowgirl.”

  I wasn’t quite sure what sound my brain made and thought it was appropriate. But I was in agreement, hrrrnnnngggghh was about right.

  His eyes were watching my lips. “I’m going to kiss you now, Addi.”

  I gasped a little.

  “I want you to know what I’m doing. I don’t want you to be scared.”

  My voice was barely a whisper. “You talked to Jess.”

  “I did. And I want to kiss you.”

  I heaved the air in and out of my lungs. “Yes.”

  Even though his hands were on either side of me, caging me in, I didn’t feel trapped at all. I felt…warm. Flush. Excited.

  He lowered his head to mine and his lips were the softest touch on mine. Patrick sipped from me at first. Just the lightest, butterfly touch of skin on skin. Fluttering, sampling, tasting.

  I was feeling brave, and I pressed forward a bit, making the kiss deeper, more severe. God, he tasted good. Raspberries and summer, fresh meadows and clean evening air.

  His hand wrapped around the back of my neck, his fingers teasing my hair. And then he kissed me.

  Warm lips teased mine open carefully and he stopped sipping and started drinking from me. I canted my head, and with more boldness than I had ever felt before, I touched his tongue playfully with mine.

  He, however, was not shy. As soon as I pulled back, he followed me and twisted his taste around me. Each of his flavors found their way deep into the recesses of our kiss. I felt almost as though he were imprinting on me in some weird way. As deep as our kiss got, it was never hard, or harsh. Every demand was really a question, and I adored the feeling of his fingers in my hair. Twirling, petting, stroking—just simply touching me.

  Feeling brave, I lifted my hand to the back of his neck and found the edge of his hair. I mirrored his motions and it elicited a little moan from him.

  Pulling back a bit, he dusted small kisses over me for a moment and rested his forehead on mine.

  “Damn, babe. We gotta stop. You don’t have enough clothes on for this.”

  I laughed. “Maybe I have too many.”

  Patrick grunted. “Mmm. No. I’m going to stop. I like you too much to push that far. Please put on pants and meet me in the kitchen?”

  “Never thought you’d tell a girl to put her pants on, eh?”

  “Never thought I would meet anyone like you.”

  I melted a little and kissed him again, softly.

  He groaned and shook his head, pulling back a moment before we were going to start really making out. “No, no. We have all day to steal kisses. Let’s get this show on the road.”

  Backing up, he trailed his hand down my neck, over my collar, and down my chest, pulling away just before he reached the swell of my breast. “You’re going to kill me.”

  Grinning, I lowered my lids and did my best to give a look of shy desire. “But won’t that be the best way to die?”

  He coughed, and his hand rubbed over the clear erection in his pants. “Meet me in the kitchen. I’ll be there in five.”

  “That’s fast.”

&nbs
p; “I’m ready to come in my pants right here.” He turned on his heel and marched out as I let my laugh out.

  This was going to be fun. I never thought I would have fun flirting and being dirty. I really hoped the PTSD didn’t decide to rear its ugly head.

  After I pulled on my clothes and packed a small backpack, I grabbed my Xanax just in case. I liked the way I felt at that moment—I wanted to feel like that always.

  * * *

  Despite having offed the hard-on just a few hours before—and thirteen-year-old boy quick at that—there was a constant threat of a new one the whole time.

  When she had let me kiss her, I wanted to be greedy and take so much more. She’d tasted like Turkish Delight: sweet roses that melted in your mouth. She smelled like a garden in spring, fresh and new and hopeful. There was just a touch, the tiniest taste, of fear, but she seemed to be so caught up in the decadence of the moment that she didn’t pay attention to it.

  It took everything I had to walk away from her. She was offering more than I thought she was ready to give.

  My dick, on the other hand, was ready, willing, and able. Again.

  I pulled the yoke back and pushed the little plane into the sky. As usual, she purred and spun her merry props, pulling us up into the blue sky. It was a good day for this cub count. The clouds weren’t out yet, but the way the air felt and looked, there would be a thin veil of cirrus later, giving us enough sun without blinding us.

  My count territory was along the US-Canada border, up toward the south end of the St. Elias Range all the way down to Ketchikan. It was only about fifty miles wide, but there were prime den spots I knew about.

  Thanks to Amos and his clan.

  It was a fantastic help to have a bear shifter who could find the dens and pass the information along. He and two other Alphas had the whole area covered and were happy to help. They had a great affinity for the resident black, brown, and grizzlies that shared the territory.

  A lot of times, Amos, Headly, and Luther sent out a few of their clan to find and disarm bear traps. There were always unsavory hunters and with a lot of territory being lost to encroaching humans, the traps were not only dangerous to them, but to unwary travelers.

  Idiot tourists, really.

  There was more than once I had been called out on the plane at three in the morning for an emergency extraction for some tourist that had gotten all turned around in the woods.

  I usually wanted to beat them with their fancy assed, good for nothing, hiking boots and pole.

  Heading south, I took the plane high at first. “We’re going to wind back and forth up toward the coastal range. I’m going to be really low, just a few dozen feet off the top of the trees.”

  “That low?” Addi asked through the headset.

  “Yup. We just have to check the meadows for the bears. They’ll be out during the day, trying to find berries and small game. But bears are lazy hunters. They’ll only hunt easy stuff.”

  “Like salmon upstream.”

  “En masse. If there aren’t enough they won’t even try, but yes. Like that.”

  “How long does this usually take?”

  “By myself? Twelve hours. We’ll both be looking, so it should take a lot less. We’ll set down for lunch just on the other side of Mendenhall and continue after. We should be back for dinner.”

  “Sounds like a plan.” I could hear the smile in her voice.

  “If you see a bear, call it out and see if there are cubs. Don’t wait for me to confirm anything before you start taking notes. We get only one pass. We don’t like to scare these guys by flying over and over.”

  “Got it.” She patted her notepad.

  We chatted idly as we made our way to Ketchikan, and then the words disappeared as we concentrated on counting bears and cubs. I knew that Addi couldn’t tell, but I was following from location to location that Amos had passed along, as well as a few I knew of myself.

  The count, by the halfway point, was looking healthy. Lots of twins and more than a smattering of triplets. The chances that all of them would make it was small, but it was good to see the large numbers.

  I set the plane down just opposite Juneau in British Columbia. The government knew we were doing the flight today, so it was not an issue or a secret.

  The Taku River ran from the glaciers out to the Inside Passage near Juneau and eventually to the Pacific. This time of year, it ran high and fast and I was able to plop the plane down on the water. We were half swept down the river, and half motored to the bank.

  Jumping out, I found some nice solid gravel and trees on what was usually a very silty, soft bank and tied us up. Out came the picnic basket and we plunked down on a fallen trunk.

  The first little while we compared notes, and I was surprised to find hers not only extremely detailed, but clearly a separate set of data from the ones I had collected.

  “I need to bring a second set of eyes more often. We only have about three overlapping bears.”

  “It was easy once I got the hang of telling the difference between a boulder and a larger brown furry creature.”

  I gave her a look. “What was it?”

  “The boulders are gray. The bears are not. Also, boulders don’t generally lumber through a meadow.”

  Tossing my head back, I let out a laugh. “That’s true. If the boulders were walking I’d worry about what kind of mushrooms my pizza had last night.”

  Addi’s easy smile was the best thing in the world. I wanted to keep that smile on her face always, and I really hoped I was doing everything the right way. I had just about ten weeks to convince her to stay.

  My wolf whined and reminded me immediately that we had some serious explaining to do.

  “So, disastrous housing situation aside, how do you like Alaska so far?”

  Lame.

  “It’s gorgeous up here. I mean, for a place that has a rep as being cold and bleak, it’s not. There’s some real greenery going on. And those lakes! The one we flew over the Tutsamine? I’ve never seen blue like that before.”

  “I’m going to have to fly you over a few of the glacial lakes. They get even more blue. Bright almost white blue. They’re gorgeous. And the mountains are something else. There’s still snow on the peaks.”

  “Glaciers.” I looked up at the mountains between us and the ocean. “They’re dying, though. Almost all of them. The retreat has been astounding, and even I can see how far they’ve gone. It hurts the land and the animals and the people.”

  “Your dad is actually chief of the compound…” Addi pulled out a drink from the picnic basket.

  “Dad is chief of the Tlingit people in the compound,” I answered. “Not everyone is native. Not everyone is Tlingit. There are a few Tsimshian, a few Athabaskans, and a Tagish family who…well.”

  She wasn’t ready for the shifter part of that just now.

  “So, Garrett will be chief someday?”

  “In… a manner of speaking. Darius is actually the oldest, and it’s his right to claim it if he wants. But…”

  “But?”

  “Well, there’s more to being the chief than just being born to the chief. Darius doesn’t have the abilities.”

  Addi’s eyebrows went up. “Abilities. Like sight? Or like negotiations?”

  “More than that,” I said. “It’s kind of hard to explain really. It’s a little weird. I mean, not to us, but to everyone else outside it is.” Jumping Jesus on a pogo stick, this was hard. “We have a lot of traditions that don’t make sense to people, but they are important.”

  “I get that. There’s lots of native traditions that non-natives don’t understand. Nor do we need to. We just need to respect what they are not force the kids to go to English schools and forget their traditions.”

  “That was insightful.”

  She grinned. “I grew up in Oklahoma. The Cherokee people have been wonderful to the non-natives in the area. They’ve taught us how to share and be kind. I used to go to one of their powwows every
year, and a couple of my friends in school were Cherokee. Like a lot Cherokee. My best friend in second grade was named Blue-That-Thunders.”

  I wanted to have this conversation with her. I was proud of my Tlingit heritage, but it wasn’t the direction I needed at that moment. Taking a moment, I tried again.

  “Do the Cherokee have tattoos?”

  “Absolutely, they have a set of specific tattoos that mean different things on different parts of the body. Blue got a turtle on her back at eighteen. Her mother paid for it.”

  Now I wanted to know more, but that was another distraction. “We get them at twenty-two.” I lifted up the back of my shirt and twisted so she could see the tattoo of the St. Terese-Mendenhall pack.

  She traced her fingers over the shoulder and I knew this hadn’t been my best idea. Her fingers were soft and careful as they outlined the tattoo. Antlers for the elk, a wolf head for us, two paws for the bear, wings for the eagles, and a raven’s feather, for the long-gone raven shifters that had been part of our pack once.

  I didn’t want her to take her fingers away. My wolf was in agreement, but also wanted me to get on with it so he could show off.

  “Everyone gets these?”

  “Most everyone. The Moonborn usually choose not to.”

  “Moonborn?”

  I swallowed. “Those without the ability to…”

  She gasped. “You’re a seer?”

  “No, no, ha. No way. I’m not.”

  “You’re trying very hard to tell me something here, Patrick. I get that.” She took my hand. “Go ahead. I promise I won’t run screaming.”

  That didn’t help me at all. “All right. So…” I stopped and glanced behind her.

  …crunch…

  My wolf’s ears perked up. The sound had been soft and a little distant. It was the crunch of a patch of pine under a padded paw.

  “What—”

  I put a finger over her lips and shook my head. A few more soft, nearly inaudible shushes of padded paws walked toward us. I leaned into her and kept my voice to a whisper. “I need you to get into the plane, quickly. Close the door and stay down.”

  “What’s going on?” she breathed.

  I looked at the brush behind her.

  Too late.