by Roxie Noir
He must have put me to bed, she realized. Then she stretched, splaying out her fingers and toes as she did: even though she was still a prisoner, she could have a moment of contentment, she thought.
Then the noise sounded again: raised voices outside her door, coming from the main room of the lodge.
Miles’s raised voice. Delilah bolted upward in bed, trying to make out the words that the men were shouting at each other, racing to put on pants and a shirt before tearing open the door to her bedroom.
Both her guards stood there, but they were watching the commotion as well, and followed Delilah down the hall as she hurried to the main room, wanting to see what all the fuss was about.
She stopped short when she got there: in the middle of the room were Miles and Roy, facing each other. Miles was furious about something, the veins nearly popping out of his forehead and neck, and Delilah could see that he was starting to sweat from the pressure of not shifting — his bear was right below the surface, she could tell.
Roy was calmer but also forcing himself to keep it in check, his fists flexing at his sides.
“Miles!” she called, and walked toward him.
Big hands caught her and pulled her back, away from him.
“Miles!” she called out again, her desperation growing — what was happening? Why couldn’t she go to him?
“You’re sure you want to do this, son?” Roy asked, his voice dangerously low and growling.
“Positive,” said Miles.
The two men circled each other slowly, sizing each other up and down. A hushed rippled went through the gathered men standing around the main room.
“Outside,” said Roy, standing up straight. “Challenger first.”
Miles walked through the double doors of the lodge, flinging them open as he went, and everyone else followed.
Delilah’s guards tried to pull her back and keep her inside, but she tore her arms free.
“Don’t you fucking touch me,” she growled, catching Jack’s attention.
He looked over, casually, at the two boys who’d been tasked with keeping her around.
“Let her come,” he said. “She’s not going anywhere.”
Haughtily, Delilah walked through the doors, head high.
There were ten, maybe fifteen people there, a small core group of those who hung around the lodge, those who were most involved and wanted to make sure everything went smoothly. They formed a ring around Roy and Miles, both standing in the middle.
Roy began unbuttoning his plaid flannel shirt, talking as he did.
“Rules are simple,” he said. “Claws and teeth only. Weapons are a tool of man. No shifting back until it’s done. If the other bear shifts back, do unto him what you will.”
Delilah finally realized what was happening: Miles had challenged Roy for alpha.
She hadn’t even known he could do that, anymore. There were stories and legends, of course, about epic battles and young bears, robbed of their birthrights, who challenged older leaders — but those were fairy tales.
It had never once occurred to her that this could actually happen. As long as she could remember, as long as her parents and grandparents could remember, alpha had been handed down in a civilized way, with the current alpha choosing a successor, then abdicating his position voluntarily.
This was something new, and Delilah’s heart sunk. Did Miles have any idea what he was doing? Why the hell was he doing this — Roy himself had said she could go home soon.
“Last rule,” Roy said, grinning and half-naked, “Winner is the last bear standing.”
Then they shifted.
Delilah covered her mouth with her hands. She honestly felt as if she might faint, and she was a doctor, for Christ’s sake, not the fainting type.
The bears circled, Miles a deep reddish brown, Roy a lighter, dusty brown, just starting to go gray around the muzzle.
He’s getting old, Delilah thought. Maybe Miles has a chance.
But then, Miles lunged forward and swung a heavy paw at the other bear, and Roy dodged it easily, cuffing Miles on the head, knocking him just a little.
Miles shook his heavy head and continued circling, shaking the blow off.
This time he waited for Roy to lunge, facing him head-on, and then turning at the last minute, throwing the older bear off balance. He managed to get a hold on Roy’s neck with his teeth, grabbing and forcing Roy to tear himself free, both bears roaring as they fought.
Free, Roy circled again. Delilah could see the faint dark, wet spot on his neck, and her spirits soared. She had the knuckle of one thumb between her teeth, determined not to make any noise. She didn’t want to distract Miles.
They feinted a few more times, snapping and swiping, but nothing really happened, and the crowd began to jeer.
“Come on, pussy!” shouted someone.
“I thought you wanted this!” said someone else.
“He’s having second thoughts,” said a voice close to Delilah, not looking at her, just watching the fight. “Hope Roy don’t fuck him up too bad.”
Delilah bit her knuckle harder, the metallic taste of blood flooding her mouth. She didn’t care.
Finally, Roy feinted again and Miles lunged in, and then he was caught off balance, his neck in Roy’s teeth, Roy rolling and trying hard to rip into Miles’s flesh.
They rose onto their hind legs then, Miles a little off-balance and awkward, but Roy not much better, his teeth still hard around Miles’s neck. Miles cuffed him right across the face, his claws raking over Roy’s snout, and at last, Roy let go, but the two bears were still locked in that embrace, snarling and snapping, each trying to get the advantage over the other.
Delilah thought it might never end, the constant dance of bears trying to force the other onto his back until, finally, Miles gave an extra shove and knocked Roy over, toppling them both off balance. Delilah’s heart shot upward, until she saw Roy swiped one massive, clawed paw out and catch Miles right on the face, opening a gash just below his eye.
“No,” she whispered into her hands. She wanted to hide her eyes until it was over, but couldn’t quite bring herself to do it. Whatever happened, she should see.
Miles paced away, shaking the blood out of his eyes, and Roy saw his opportunity: from where he was, he sprang at Miles, catching the other bear mid-head shake, rolling them both over and over in the grass, roaring, but he was moving a little too fast and tumbled off, catching Miles’s claws as he went.
Both of them sprang to their feet, growling and pacing. Delilah worried that Miles had a slight limp. He seemed to be favoring his front left forepaw, and seeing it sent a cold rush of anxiety rush through Delilah.
Roy was getting tired too, though, and as Delilah watched, holding her breath, he went at Miles again, but this time he was just a tick slower, just a little further away, and Miles dodged his open mouth, moving just a little to the side and grabbing his throat in his own jaws, pressing down with all the pressure he could muster, slamming the older man to the ground.
Roy flailed, even as Miles snarled and the blood flowed over his teeth and lips, his claws raking down the other bear, ripping into his thick skin.
As one, the crowd gasped, and everyone went perfectly still. Blood began pouring from Roy’s throat, soaking the grass, and then, all at once, he went limp.
Miles gave him one more shake, as if to make sure he wasn’t pretending, and then let him go and moved away.
Everyone stood perfectly still for a moment, like they were statues in a garden. It seemed that no one quite knew what to do, just now.
Then, someone shouted.
“Last bear standing!”
“Last bear standing!” everyone echoed. Delilah felt like her mouth was glued shut in surprise.
“Miles Kamchatka,” the man boomed, his voice thundering through the forest. “Shift.”
When he was human again, Miles was on his hands and knees, naked, scratches and bruises all over him, gasping for air. His left wrist
was already swelling like it was sprained, and as he looked up at Delilah, she could see the deep cut on his face.
And then she was running to him, crying and running, throwing herself on the ground, wrapping his huge frame in her arms, kissing him as hard as she could. He went over onto the grass easily, with her on top of him.
“Are you okay?” she gasped, once she’d covered his face with kisses.
She realized he was laughing.
“I’m fine, babe,” he said. “Totally fine.”
Delilah wiped her tears away with the back of her hand, smiling down at him. She prodded the skin near his cut with her fingertips, careful not to touch the gash itself.
“This is going to scar,” she said.
He shrugged. “I’ll look badass,” he said, smiling.
Then Delilah heard a murmur behind her and turned to look.
Roy had regained consciousness, just barely, and had shifted back to human.
“Oh, shit,” she said, quietly, and then her training took over. She stood and went to Roy, pointing at Jack. “You, call 9-1-1,” she said. “Tell them there’s two badly injured men here. You,” she pointed at someone else. “Give me your shirt. No, tear it into strips first. He’s lost a lot of blood.”
She looked up. No one was doing anything. Instead, they were all looking at Miles, waiting for him to say something.
“Come on,” she prompted, expecting him to tell everyone to do as she said.
Instead, he stood and came over to where she knelt by the body.
“How bad?” he asked.
“Bad,” she said. “His windpipe is almost crushed and he’s lost a lot of blood, Miles.”
He looked down at them, thinking for a moment.
“We need an ambulance,” she said. “Two ambulances.”
“Cops’ll find out,” someone said. “Could make a lot of trouble for us.”
Miles looked uncertain.
“He was your alpha for ten years,” said Delilah. She whirled around and looked the gathered men in the face, one by one. “You’d let him die because you don’t want to talk to the cops?”
Still, nothing.
“Miles,” she said. “Miles, don’t do this.”
He stood still for long moment and then, at last, he nodded.
“Do what she says,” he told the crowd, and then walked into the lodge, a small throng following him.
It seemed to take the ambulances hours to get there, but when they did, both the injured men were still alive. Delilah made up some story about there being a hunting accident, a bear attack, and the lodge’s phone line unexpectedly getting knocked out. She didn’t think the paramedics bought it, but she didn’t particularly care — besides, they were in quite a rush, and had another hour before they got to the real hospital in Anchorage.
At last, they were driving down the long gravel road, and Delilah felt all the fight go out of her. She went back into the lodge, where Miles was holding court, a group of men around him, taking orders — Brock and Nathan included. Brock didn’t look happy at this turn of events, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t right in there, sucking up to the new alpha.
Delilah walked past them, nodding once at Miles, going back to the room that had been her prison. She quickly tossed everything into the suitcase, then walked back out, heading for her car.
“Babe,” said Miles, a question in his voice.
“I’m going home,” she said. “I gotta take care of some stuff.”
He walked toward her, his throng parting, and lowered his voice. “I’ll be over soon, okay?”
Delilah wasn’t quite sure, but she nodded.
“Okay,” she said.
She had a long, empty drive ahead of her, and that was just the drive back to her dead father’s house — that wasn’t even the drive back to California. That had to wait until tomorrow morning, when it was light enough, and she’d gotten enough sleep.
There was a sick, twisted feeling in her gut, and she tried to tamp it down but it kept on rearing its ugly head. She had seen how Miles had hesitated about calling the ambulance — alpha for thirty seconds, and he’d already changed.
He was already willing to consider a man’s life in exchange for some minor discomfort.
At exactly that moment, it had dawned on her: Roy hadn’t been the problem. The pack had been the problem; there was something toxic and twisted about the Fjords pack, and they’d infect every single shifter who was a part of it.
That’s why she had to leave as soon as she could, before she saw Miles again, because she knew she might not leave if he tried to stop her — but she also knew she’d spend the rest of her life regretting staying in Fjords.
When she got back to her father’s house, she threw her things in her car, took a single picture of her and her father together, set her alarm for six a.m., and then flopped onto the bed, falling asleep before she could even manage to get under the covers.
18
Miles
The sun never really went down, not during an Alaska summer. The sky did get darker, but it never got darker than medium-silver, and when Miles realized the sky was getting lighter instead of darker, he cut everything short.
Still sitting on the leather couches in the lodge’s main room, the fire roaring, he rubbed his eyes and stood.
“You’re leaving?” asked a young man, sitting to one side of Nathan. The older men had been respectful but distant for the past couple of hours, his tenure so far as Alpha. It was the younger men, Brock and his group, who’d started sucking up almost immediately.
“I told Delilah I’d be over,” he said.
The young men sitting in front of him looked at each other, or at least Miles thought they did. He was too tired to care. Brock opened his mouth, and then shut it, looking across the room at Michael.
It occurred to Miles that he’d barely seen his father since he won Alpha from Roy, but he didn’t particularly care. It had only been a couple of hours. There was a lot to process: the first overthrow in living memory, for one thing.
He walked to the door, ignoring the young men he was leaving behind in the room, the whole lot of them gossiping like old women. Let them talk; none of them were going to do anything about this new situation.
As he left, he quickly glanced back and saw Brock, standing, talking to a small circle of older men. Roy’s former inner circle. They all looked very, very serious, but Miles didn’t think anything of it: he was alpha now, and if he wanted to go see his girlfriend, he could.
He pulled into her driveway thirty minutes later. Right away he noticed that her trunk was open, and she wasn’t there. She’d just left it like that in the driveway — something about it seemed odd, even if he couldn’t put his finger on it.
It was only six-thirty in the morning. Had she left it like that all night? Had she opened it and then forgotten it, just gone to bed after her long day?
Miles frowned, walking around the back of her car, meaning to close the trunk for her. Sure, it was only Fjords, but why invite someone to steal stuff out of your car?
Then, he saw that it was full. It had her suitcase, a couple of duffel bags. Two small cardboard boxes, with just one spot remaining.
As he was standing, facing the trunk, both hands on the lid, ready to close it, he heard the screen door slam behind him, and then footsteps came to a quick stop.
Delilah stood there, on her dad’s front porch, carrying two big coats and one small box that would just barely fit into the remaining trunk space.
They stared at each other for a moment, neither one speaking. Miles was tired and hadn’t slept, and with everything that had happened — the sex, with the fight, staying up all night — he felt unmoored and adrift, like the things he was seeing in front of them weren’t anchored to reality.
“Shit,” said Delilah. She’d stopped short and now stood there uncertainly, looking a little like she might try to bolt at any moment.
“What’s going on?” asked Miles. He tried to sound
casual.
Maybe she’s taking a trip to the Goodwill, he thought. Getting rid of her dad’s stuff.
Even as he thought that, the pieces began to align themselves in his brain, one big arrow pointing to the obvious answer.
Delilah didn’t answer, but she came down the three concrete steps and crossed the driveway, heading for her trunk. Miles moved out of the way as she fitted the last box in perfectly, then laid the coats over top of everything, squashing them as she slammed the trunk closed.
Finally, she turned to him, taking a deep breath. Miles felt like he couldn’t breathe.
This can’t be happening again, he thought.
“I was hoping to get out of here before you came by,” she said, slowly. She hugged her arms across her body like she was trying to make herself as small as possible.
Questions flooded through Miles’s tired brain, the half-light of dawn making everything seem even murkier, even harder to grasp.
“Where are you going?” he finally said.
“Home,” Delilah said. “Back to California, I guess.”
“This is home,” Miles said. “I thought that — after yesterday —” he stopped for a minute, forced himself to collect his thoughts. Delilah still wouldn’t look at him.
“I thought you’d stay,” he said, simply.
She sighed, exhaling all the air in her lungs. Nothing else made a sound in the gray morning.
“I thought maybe I would, too,” she said.
Miles frowned slightly, feeling like he was grasping as something just out of his reach.
“Then do it,” he said. “Stay here. Stay with me. Your parents are gone, I’m alpha now. Things will be different from here on out. No more kidnapping pretty doctors, for starters.”
That didn’t get a smile, but at least Delilah looked at him, her beautiful eyes brimming with tears.
“It wasn’t just Roy,” she whispered. “Yesterday, when I said he needed an ambulance, and — Miles, you had to think about it. You nearly choked a man to death and then you had to think about whether to rescue him.”
Miles stared at her, open-mouthed. He felt like she’d punched him, right below the sternum, the spot that knocked the wind from him.
