by Roxie Noir
But then she pressed herself up against him, taking him by surprise with her urgency. One of her hands found its way to the side of his torso and he swept his tongue along her lower lip, almost as if he was asking her permission.
Beneath him, her lips parted, her hand tightening on the side of his body, and he nearly lost control. He pushed his tongue into her mouth, finding hers, just barely touching it with the tip of his and then, to his surprise, she pushed her tongue past him, moving her mouth hard against him, tangling them together in the sweetest embrace he’d ever felt.
Nathan thought that he could have stayed there, kissing Leah, for eternity, but at last she pulled away, breathing hard, her chest heaving, still looking up at Nathan.
“I’ve never kissed anyone before,” she said, a smile playing around her lips.
His hand was still on her chin. He felt like he couldn’t stop touching her.
“It felt like my first time,” he said.
Someday, you’ll have to tell her, a small, mean part of his brain thought. Not just about the other women. About everything.
He shrugged it off.
“Can I take you to the Pinnacles?” he asked.
She held something up in one hand: shoes.
“I didn’t want to make noise sneaking out,” she said softly, her voice musical in the night.
“You’ve sneaked out before?” he asked,
Leah shook her head and bent down, slipping sneakers onto her bare feet.
“Never?”
“Never,” she said.
Then she looked at him, a little oddly, and took his big, hard hand in her small, soft one.
“There’s a lot I haven’t done before,” she said. He could hear something odd in her voice, a mixture of fear and longing, that made Nathan’s heart skip a couple of beats.
Quietly, they walked for the road, going completely silent as they passed below the windows of the farmhouse where Leah’s family slept.
He helped her through the undergrowth and to the road. Leah only looked back over her shoulder at the farmhouse once, and Nathan admired her for that.
The consequences were much greater for her than for him, he knew, and yet here she was, defying her father and Ian and years and years of tradition, just to go look at the stars with some stranger.
We’re not strangers, a voice whispered, deep inside Nathan. We’re anything but.
It was incredible, the way she made him feel. Like his past didn’t exist, like he’d never touched another woman before. He felt brand new, all the bad parts of him erased.
“Tell me more about these rocks,” she said. They were still holding hands, walking close together, and her fingers tangled with his, her face looking up at him.
For a moment he was struck by her, by how utterly perfect she was.
His bear roared again, wanting to lower her to the asphalt right now.
He shrugged.
“They’re a couple of rock spires on a hill not far from here,” he said. “In the middle is a big flat rock, and you can lie on it and look up and see all the stars, these crazy spires all around you.”
“Sounds beautiful,” she said.
“It is.”
They walked in silence for a moment, Nathan’s whole body humming.
“I think I’ll like Fjords,” she said, swinging their arms back and forth. “It reminds me a lot of home.”
“Of Yukon City?”
Leah nodded, her hair bouncing in the dark.
“Yukon City isn’t on the ocean, but it’s got a similar feel. It’s freezing cold eight months of every year, and everything is flat and evergreen the same way.”
Another pause, and their hands swung back and forth. Up ahead, Nathan could see the bush where he’d hidden the motorcycle.
“It’s on the Yukon River, and a lot of people stopped there during the gold rush, so we’ve got that in common,” she went on. “It still sort of feels like the wild west, honestly.”
They reached the motorcycle, and Leah’s eyebrows went up.
“You brought the bike,” she said.
“You asked about it.”
She ran one hand along the seat, and Nathan could have sworn she was savoring the touch of the hard leather.
“Be careful with me,” she said.
She looked up at him and bit her lip, but Nathan could see the sheer delight in her eyes.
“Of course,” he said. “I even brought you a helmet.”
“You didn’t know that I’d come out,” she said, tugging his hand and pulling him against herself.
“I knew,” he said, and realized that it had been true all along.
They kissed again, long and slow, Nathan biting her bottom lip softly and Leah making a little noise in response.
Control yourself, he thought, even as he squeezed her waist, kissing her even harder.
16
Leah
Leah had never experienced anything like being on a motorcycle before. It was terrifying and exhilarating, all at once. The closest she’d ever come had been the time that her cousin gave her a ride in the back of a pickup truck once, when she was a kid, only for both of them to get chewed out by her father not long after.
She laughed until her ribs hurt out of nothing but exuberance, watching the dark scenery fly by. Nathan took the back roads, careful not to let anyone see them together.
Finally, he pulled into a small turnout from the main road and pulled his helmet off. He helped Leah with hers, kissing her as he did, like he simply couldn’t help himself.
Leah felt almost delirious with the double thrill of happiness and anxiety, knowing she was doing exactly what she wanted to be doing, and also understanding the consequences of it. Even so, she felt lighter and better, just being there with Nathan.
He took her by the hand and led her down a path, crowded with bushes and trees, holding back the branches for her as she walked behind him, letting him lead the way.
A few minutes later, she could see the Pinnacles, just as promised: big spears of granite, sticking up toward the sky.
“Is that them?” she asked, excitedly.
“Yep,” said Nathan, tugging at her hand. He was so excited, he almost seemed like a kid, and she could tell that he wasn’t like this, normally. When the people of Fjords talked about Nathan Kamchatka, they tended to lower their voices and hunch their shoulders, like they didn’t want to be heard, but Leah didn’t know why.
They obviously hadn’t seen the real Nathan, the sweet, sexy guy who brought an extra helmet and wanted to show her the stars.
Finally, they broke through the trees and into a clearing where there was a big, flat rock surrounded by the Pinnacles themselves, big gray rocks pointing at heaven.
“This is incredible,” Leah breathed, her neck craned up.
“Come into the middle,” Nathan said, still leading her. Now he was behind her, his hands on her waist over her simple, almost-frumpy dress.
She looked up.
“There it is,” she said, pointing at the Milky Way. “You really can see it.”
“You can’t in Yukon City?” he asked.
“Not as well,” Leah said. “I guess I never really look, to be honest.”
He wrapped his arms around her from behind, and Leah felt herself relax into his embrace, almost like she’d done it a thousand times before.
It just felt so familiar and right. Even though she knew that what she was doing was wrong, it didn’t feel wrong.
It felt exactly right.
“Do they tell the legend of the North Star in Yukon City?” he asked.
Leah could feel the rumble of his voice through his chest, against the back of her neck. She’d never felt so warm or so safe in her life.
“I don’t think so,” she said.
“Do you want to hear it?” he asked.
“If you’re telling it.”
“Once upon a time,” Nathan said, “there were two bears, mates, and they lived on the island off the east
ern coast of Siberia, north of Japan.”
His hand found hers, still holding her tight, and he stroked the back of her hand with his thumb.
“They were together every day, all day, hunting and fishing, and they were so in love that the sea got jealous of them, so jealous that she couldn’t stand it.”
Leah had never heard this particular story before, but it had the elements she was familiar with: the distant past where shifters had just been bears, the forces of nature with human feelings.
“Was the sea in love with the male bear?”
“Maybe,” Nathan said. Leah could hear the smile in his voice. “But whatever the reason, maybe because the sea was in love with him or because there is only one sea and she’ll be lonely forever, the sea stole his mate away from him.”
Leah went silent, holding her breath.
“Even though he swam and swam after her, the sea was greater and it took her away from him. After hours, he swam back to shore, wet and bedraggled and heartbroken. When he was back, he tore down the trees on the shore, he tore the forests away from the mountains and he was so angry that his anger infected the earth, made it spew forth lava until the beautiful place they’d lived was ugly and scarred with fire.”
Leah turned her cheek to nestle again Nathan’s hard chest, the better to feel his voice.
“So he lived on worms and berries and fish, too heartbroken to care that he’d destroyed everything they loved, until one day a raven came to him and said that he knew where the bear’s mate was.”
“Where?”
“I’m getting there. The raven wanted to make a deal, though. The raven had always been afraid of bears, and he wanted the bear to give up some of his power. So the raven said that he’d tell the bear where his mate was if he agreed to spend some of his time utterly defenseless, without claws or teeth or fur.”
Nathan pulled Leah even closer. She felt like they were breathing as one.
“The bear agreed right away. ‘She’s east’, the raven said. ‘You have to follow the coast and then, when you get to the great ice bridge, keep the North Star on your left, and follow the coast back down.’ So that’s what the bear did. In those days, the land still connected Siberia and North America, so he spent months walking, hunting his food, sometimes starving, always staying away from the jealous sea who wanted to keep them apart. As long as he kept the North Star on his left, he knew, he’d find his mate.”
“Did he?”
“As soon as he got close he could feel her in his bones, and he wandered the coast, howling for her until, at least, a naked woman stepped out of a cave in front of him. The raven had stripped her of her defenses, too, and when the bear saw her he became human as well.”
He placed a kiss on the top of Leah’s head.
“And that’s how shifters became human.”
There was a brief pause, where neither of them said anything, just basking in the glow of the moment.
“It’s also why we don’t go swimming much,” he said, and Leah laughed out loud.
“I’ve never heard that story,” she said. “Our’s is about kidnapping and the soul getting split into two.”
She turned around in his arms, looking up at him.
“Do you believe the stories?” he asked.
Leah bit her lip. She wanted to believe the stories, sure, but she didn’t know what she believed anymore. After all, so much of what she’d thought until recently was just wrong, and yet she had to abide by it.
Really, she shouldn’t even be here alone with Nathan. She’d sneaked out, directly disobeying her father’s orders. Betraying her future husband.
“I don’t know,” she told Nathan.
Suddenly she couldn’t meet his eyes.
What are you doing, she thought. You can’t have him. You shouldn’t be leading him on like this. It isn’t fair.
“I used to believe in them,” she said. “I wish I still did.”
He frowned and reached up, cradling her face in one hand.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
Leah opened her mouth, but she couldn’t find the words to explain that inside, she felt like a whirlpool of disbelief, chaos, betrayal, and happiness. How could she be so happy here, with him, when she was letting her entire clan down? How could she enjoy this when she’d never get to do it again?
You know you can’t keep him, she thought.
“Just kiss me,” she whispered, tilting her head up.
Then Nathan’s lips met hers, Leah’s heart felt so full that she thought it might burst. Electricity sang through her as she pressed herself against him, harder.
Shyly, not quite sure of herself, she nudged the tip of her tongue against his lips and felt him give way, opening them to her and meeting her tongue with his.
Nathan’s hands tightened on her body and, beneath his shirt, the muscles in his chest moved under Leah’s fingers.
A bolt of heat shot through her, along with a bone-deep sense of longing and unfulfilled want. Without thinking or understanding what was happening, she pressed her hips to his.
Deep in his chest, Nathan made a noise and it reverberated through both of them, somewhere between a growl and a moan. It only deepened the desperate ache inside Leah, and she slid her hands around his body to his back, holding him closer and closer.
Nathan broke their kiss and rested his forehead against hers, breathing hard, his eyes closed.
“I didn’t believe in the stories until I met you,” he whispered. It sent shivers down Leah’s back, and she swallowed hard, trying to understand what was happening.
“What are you saying?” Leah asked, suddenly nervous.
Her sense of unease deepened. Not with Nathan, but with the rest of her life.
He isn’t yours and he can’t be yours, the voice in her head said. This can’t last and you know it.
“I thought all the stories were lies,” he said. “Leah, I did a lot of bad things, but then you grabbed a chocolate tart out of my hand and I don’t think I’m the same person anymore,” he went on, the words coming in a rush, like he had to say them and couldn’t be stopped.
“Stop,” she said. “Don’t tell me this.”
He opened his eyes and moved his head back so they weren’t touching anymore.
“Stop what?” he asked, genuinely confused.
“Stop telling me this,” she said, tears starting to come to her eyes.
“I’m sorry,” Nathan said, taking her cheek in his hand but she turned her head away quickly, then took a step back so they weren’t embracing anymore.
“I can’t be here,” she said. “I can’t do this.”
All she could think of were the angry faces of her father and Ian, looming in front of her.
They were her future, and she knew it.
“Yes you can,” said Nathan. “Forget Ian, forget your father.”
Leah sniffled once, still backing away across the flat rock.
“I wish you could be mine,” she said.
And then she shifted, her dress tearing off into shreds.
Before he knew what was happening, Leah had run into the woods, headed back to the house where her family was staying.
17
Nathan
Nathan stood there for seconds on end, staring after where Leah had suddenly shifted and then run off.
What the hell had just happened?
As soon as he came to his senses, he tore off his clothes and shifted himself, running after her. She wasn’t hard to track, an upset grizzly headed straight for the house where they were staying. He had the urge to tackle her, to shift back, to tell her that everything would be fine and that he’d kill her father and Ian and anyone else who said she couldn’t be his.
He didn’t, though. He could tell it was more complicated than that, so even though it felt like his heart had shattered and the shards were slowly making their way through this ribcage, he stayed behind her, making sure that she got home safely, watching her walk up to her front porch.
Nathan even looked away when she shifted back to human.
If Leah wanted him to see her naked, she’d let him know.
He walked slowly, still a bear, back to the Pinnacles, dressed, and rode his bike back home. He felt empty. He felt like nothing had a point, so he just laid on his bed in his clothes, hoping that dawn would come soon. At least he had a cabinet to finish.
It was early when his phone rang again, and Nathan was still in his clothes, on his bed. Every time he’d tried to sleep he’d had the nightmare again, the one about Kaitlyn. A dark parking lot, bright headlights, and that awful, sickening snap.
“What,” he said into the phone.
“I’m sorry to do this,” Brock started. Nathan frowned. Since when was Brock sorry about anything? “One of the Whitehorse boys is still a pain in my ass, and I really need you to teach him.”
Nathan flexed the hand that wasn’t holding the phone, all his pent up restlessness and rage flowing through him.
Punching somebody would feel pretty good right now, he thought.
“That’s fine,” he said. “I’ll do it.”
She’s not going to love me anyway, so who cares?
It was a gray day, constantly threatening to rain, as Nathan stood next to his shitty car outside the inn that had once been a hunting lodge. It wasn’t really an inn, but the clan called it that — it was really just a free place to put guests for a while.
Nathan had been standing there for an hour already when Carson emerged, wearing a jean jacket and a day’s worth of stubble.
He stopped for a moment when he saw Nathan and frowned at the other man, looking like he couldn’t quite remember where he knew him from.
Nathan stared back for long seconds, before he realized: Carson wasn’t going to figure out who he was. The only time they’d met, Carson had been far too trashed to remember anything.
“Hey, man,” Nathan called. “You still want to go fishing today?”
It was a wild guess, but with the men up here, fishing was usually a good bet.
