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Enslaved by the Alpha (Shifters of Nunavut Book 2)

Page 29

by Rivard, Viola


  CHAPTER THIRTY FIVE

  “It f-feels like I have no skin,” Astrid moaned. “It’s like the c-cold air is blowing right into my soul.”

  Erik glanced at her over his shoulder. He took in her hunched, shivering form, his eyes sparkling with amusement.

  “What are you doing, Astrid?”

  For a few seconds, she was no longer cold at all. Heat prickled over her skin as her name rolled off his tongue. He’d been using her name a lot lately, and by a lot, it was more like once a day, maybe. But each time, she’d get a fluttering sensation in her midsection and her brain would momentarily turn to mush. She particularly liked the way he said it, with his alluring accent—Ah-strid.

  On several occasions, she had tried to tease out where exactly Erik was from. It was always a vague response, “many places” or “east of here”. None of the other wolves had known him for more than a decade, aside from Sten, and Astrid had made it a point to avoid him ever since his…indiscretion.

  Finding her voice, she said, “I’m slowly dying of hypothermia.”

  He snorted and turned back around.

  “How is your penis not falling off?” she muttered. “For that matter, how can you even pee without it freezing as soon as it hits the air?”

  She thought she heard him chuckle, but another cold wind knifed through the tundra, reducing her to a trembling mess.

  When he finished peeing, Erik stretched out his arms, and then bent down to pick up their unfortunate prey. She and Erik had been hunting since just after daybreak, although to be fair, it was more Erik doing the hunting and her standing around grumbling.

  If it weren’t for the cold, the whole experience wouldn’t have been so bad, at least not as bad as she’d thought it would be when Erik had woken her an hour before dawn to announce that they were going to get some meat. For once, she’d been glad for her violent morning sickness, because she’d thought it would get her out of having to go with him. No such luck. The moment she’d been able to take a step without feeling like she was going to puke up her guts, the alpha was dragging her out of the den.

  It was the first time he had left the den in the week since he’d returned from his trip to the southern border. Loosely adhering to his new food regulations, he and Astrid had eaten almost nothing but small portions of bland vegetation the first week. She hadn’t complained, and had been glad to help set an example for the others, but after a few days, she’d begun having dizzy spells. Erik had assumed she was being melodramatic, until she’d passed out and almost drowned in the bath. After that, he’d turned into a meat tyrant, forcing everyone who returned with a fresh kill to give up a portion of his rations in order to feed her. None of them dared complain to Erik’s face, but Astrid had caught more than a few resentful looks thrown in her direction.

  “When I said we should stop taking other people’s food, this isn’t exactly what I had in mind,” Astrid said. She followed after Erik, who had started off towards a hill with big rocks.

  “They’re not going to like you if you sit inside and wait for me to feed you,” he said. “That’s what you want, isn’t it? Their approval?”

  She pressed her lips together. “Well, I’d like for them to at least respect me.”

  Erik laughed at that. “Being liked is easy. I doubt you will ever earn their respect.”

  “Thanks for the vote of confidence,” she said, kicking at the snow. “And if being liked is so easy, how come I’m the only one that likes you?”

  He arched a brow. “You like me?”

  “Of course. Don’t you like me?”

  He paused for so long that Astrid thought he might be messing with her. When he spoke, she was certain he was.

  “I will take your question under consideration.”

  Asshole.

  She way more than liked him, but every time she got close to saying the words, she’d panic and start to babble. They’d been getting along better than ever lately, which was especially surprising considering Erik rarely let her out of his sight. Every day, she was certain they’d start getting sick of one another, but each day they grew closer and became more comfortable together, which paradoxically made it all the harder for her to confess her feelings. The last thing she wanted was to tell him she loved him and receive nothing but one of his amused looks in return. So she kept the feeling bottled up inside, where she was pretty sure it would stay until she was on her deathbed.

  Astrid said, “You know, I only like you a little bit. Like a really, tiny bit. And it’s probably just hormones.”

  Erik ignored her, and instead pointed towards a gathering of rocks at the top of the hill. “There are lemming tunnels under those rocks. Wait here. I’ll send them in your direction.”

  “Lemmings? Like the video game?”

  Erik was already shifting. Seconds later, the massive black wolf was dashing up the hill, shimmering snow flying up in his wake.

  “Wait, aren’t they rodents? We’re not going to eat rodents, are we?”

  There was no answer, but she hadn’t really expected one. Sighing, she flopped down onto the ground. The snow had to be almost a foot deep, and her legs were in desperate need of a break.

  Even after her fainting spells, Erik had been apathetic at best to the effects that her pregnancy was having on her body. It was a major point of contention for Astrid, because she’d been looking forward to foot massages, long naps, and generally being treated like a princess. Instead, she had to beg to get him to slow down, plead for even a small break here and there, and yell at him each time he pawed at her insanely tender nipples.

  Erik barked in her direction, and she looked up, shielding her eyes with her hand. He appeared to have dug a hole, tearing through the permafrost and pulling up the earth that lay beneath it. She squinted, catching sight of something moving in the snow.

  No, not in the snow, under it. The surface of the snow puckered as something small darted below it, heading in her direction.

  The lemming, she thought grimly.

  Erik barked again, this time more insistently. Rolling her eyes, she pushed herself up off the ground.

  “You seriously want me to catch this thing with my bare hands?” She was wearing gloves, but still. Gross.

  The wolf barked again and then sat, signaling that his work was done.

  Oh, what the hell. Here goes nothing.

  She trudged towards the lemming, intercepting its path. Right as it reached her, Astrid bent down and plunged her hands into the snow. Nothing. She tilted her head, watching through the arc of her legs as the critter continued burrowing right past her. Her face heated, and she didn’t dare look up at Erik.

  Now you’re in for it, you oversized rat.

  She ran ahead, cutting it off once more. But this time, it forked to the right, and again narrowly evaded capture. This continued on for several minutes, until the once pristine hill had become marred by piles of upturned snow. Finally, the lemming made the fatal mistake of heading back up the hill, where it all but deposited itself into Erik’s waiting hand. Back in his human form, he held up the lemming, which turned out to be quite cute.

  “You have to be decisive,” Erik told her. “Don’t hesitate, simply grab it. Once you hesitate, you have already lost.”

  Astrid was hunched over again, her hands resting on her knees. Once she caught her breath, she said, “I was just about to catch it. And you only got it because I tired it out.”

  “The only thing you tired out was yourself,” he said with a smirk. “Here, kill it.”

  It was the only warning he gave her before he tossed the writhing rodent directly at her. She instinctively flinched, but at the last second caught it, knowing that she’d never hear the end of it if she let it get away.

  The instant it was in her hands, the lemming bit down on her, its little teeth tearing through her glove and sinking into the meaty flesh at the base of her thumb. Astrid shrieked and flung it away. It went hurtling towards a rock, where it fell to the ground, stunned.


  Erik walked over and picked it up.

  “Close enough,” he said, before snapping its neck.

  Astrid held up her hand. “It bit me!”

  She gingerly pulled off her glove as Erik came to stand beside her. He took her hand and held it up, giving it a cursory look.

  “It’s only a scratch,” he said, dropping her hand.

  “It’s not a scratch, it’s a bite. You don’t know what kinds of diseases that thing has. Please tell me that we have penicillin back at the den.”

  “What is that?” he asked, in the offhanded manner that implied he wasn’t really listening.

  “It’s an antibiotic, and this could be serious.”

  “It’s a scratch.”

  Astrid scowled and shoved her hand back into her glove. “Fine, but you’ll be sorry when I get sick and die. Maybe then, you’ll realize that you did like me after all, but by then it’ll be too late.”

  She was grinning despite herself, and her smile only broadened when she heard Erik laugh.

  “Enough,” he said, though his lips were still slanted. He pointed towards the hole he’d dug. “There are dozens of them down there, and we’re not leaving until you catch one on your own.”

  All of the humor left her, and Astrid put her hands on her hips and dug her feet in. “No way. The next one will probably take my finger off, and since you seem to have forgotten, I’m pregnant. I can’t be running around, chasing lemmings, or any other animals. You know, where I come from…”

  Astrid fell silent as a distant howl echoed over the tundra. It was high-pitched at first, but quickly panned out into a low, mournful sound. When it was over, she looked to Erik, feeling excited.

  “They’re calling for you at the den.”

  A smile broke over her face as he nodded, both because she was glad to be going home and because she was beginning to recognize what all of the different howls meant.

  Appearing impressed, Erik gave her an affectionate pat on the head. He shifted back into his wolf form, and once he’d gathered up their prey in his mouth, she climbed onto his back.

  Although they’d been hunting for what seemed like hours, they hadn’t been far from the den at all. Within fifteen minutes, they were within sight of the ravine that sheltered the entrance to the cave. At the top, a slender female was pacing in the snow. She looked up as Erik arrived, but quickly turned her head back down.

  Astrid climbed from Erik’s back, freeing him up to shift again. From the lines of strain around his eyes, she could tell that the constant back and forth between forms was beginning to wear on him. She made a mental note to avoid provoking him for the rest of the evening, as his temper was bound to be short.

  “What?” Erik asked, making no effort to mask his exasperation.

  The young woman appeared anxious, and Astrid could remember when Erik used to have the very same effect on her. She’d gotten over it, but only after she’d realized Erik wasn’t going to kill her.

  “I was hoping to speak with your mate,” she said, braving a glance at Astrid.

  “Me?” Astrid asked, lighting up like a Christmas tree. “Yeah, of course, what can I—oww.”

  Erik had clamped a hand down on Astrid’s shoulder. Per usual, he didn’t recognize his own strength.

  “What do you want with her?” Erik asked the other shifter.

  Astrid jerked her shoulder free and shot him a glare. “I can speak for myself, thanks.” She turned to the woman. “What can I do for you?”

  The woman wet her chapped lips. “It’s Torok. He’s not faring well, and I was hoping you might know of something that could ease his discomfort.”

  Briefly, Astrid was confused. Then, she remembered that Torok was the name of the wolf Erik had brought back from the bear encampment. She hadn’t seen him herself, but she’d heard in passing that he’d been malnourished, but was getting better.

  “What’s wrong with him?” she asked.

  The woman shook her head. “We don’t know. Last night, he began trembling and complaining that he was cold, but his skin is burning hot.”

  “I thought your kind didn’t get sick?”

  “We don’t,” she said. “At least, not when we’re in good physical condition.”

  “I see.” Astrid frowned and scratched her chin. “I don’t know if I have anything to make him comfortable, but I do have some Tylenol that might help with the fever. Will you take me to him.”

  “No,” Erik interjected, his tone so severe that it sent a spike of adrenaline shooting through Astrid’s veins. Before she could even think to argue, he said, “If he is ill, you will be putting yourself at risk.”

  You’ll drag me across the tundra and make me catch rodents with my bare hands, but going near someone with a cold is where you draw the line?

  Annoying as it was, Astrid did agree with him. She couldn’t afford to get sick, not when she was pregnant and so far from medical intervention.

  Astrid looked between Erik and the female, and then smiled. “Okay, how about this? We’ll all go back to my room and I’ll get that Tylenol for you to give to him.”

  ***

  Erik tensed as Shila pulled his mate into a tight embrace. He didn’t move from his place against the wall, but he did do a mental count, and was prepared to intervene if the she-wolf didn’t release his mate after a fixed number of seconds. Shila released her after five, narrowly avoiding his ire.

  Since he’d been back, Erik had developed an irrational and almost unmanageable possessiveness of his mate. He thought it might have a lot to do with Sabine’s attempted murder of her, yet keeping his mate constantly at his side had done little to assuage his anxieties. Whenever another female touched her, with the exception of his niece, he had to fight back a growl. And when another male came near her, he didn’t bother with restraining himself.

  “Thank you so much,” Shila said. “I’m in your debt.”

  “It’s no trouble at all,” his mate said. “Please, anything you need, don’t hesitate to ask.”

  Shila thanked Astrid again, and then turned to Erik and bowed her head. “Thank you for bringing Torok home to us.”

  “Hm.”

  Shila took her leave, and his mate crouched down to dig through her bag. Astrid called out, “It wouldn’t kill you to be a little nicer.”

  “Hm.”

  She extracted a tube of ointment and slip of beige paper from a crushed box that read “BAND-AID”. His eyes drifted away, scanning the room that she still referred to as her own, but no longer slept in.

  The bed of furs in the corner reminded him of when he’d first brought her to his den. He had brought her back to this room with the intention of breaking her in. He could have never imagined that the frightened and whiny little human beneath him would, in the not too distant future, become his mouthy and whiny little mate. Had he known at the time how profoundly she would change him, he might have made good on his threat to throw her into the ravine.

  There was a small stack of neatly folded cloths on the corner of the bed. His gaze lingered on them, as he noticed their odd shape. His mate was talking, though as so often was the case, she seemed to be more talking to herself than him. He didn’t mind, and was quite accustomed to the ambient noise of her chatter.

  “…and the doctor said to me, which bandage do you want, the Barbie one or the flesh-colored one. How racist is that?”

  “What is this?” Erik asked, picking up one of the cloths.

  His mate looked over at him, and then a proud smile broke over her face. “That’s a onesie.”

  Which of course told him nothing.

  “What purpose does it serve?”

  She waved him over. “Bring it here and I’ll show you.”

  Erik handed it to her, and she spread it out on her lap. “It’s for the baby. See? Head goes here, arms go there, and down at the bottom, legs! And this part in the middle, it’s usually buttoned with clasps. I have to figure out how to make some, but I’m not too worried, there
’s still plenty of time. What do you think?”

  It wasn’t practical to clothe a pup in such a thin fabric. The pup would likely spend its first few months bundled in furs, until it learned to shift, a natural process that the clothing might inhibit. But at the moment, under the weight of her hopeful and expectant gaze, he couldn’t tell her anything of this.

  “It is interesting,” he said, and he was relieved when she appeared pleased.

  “I can’t tell you how many of these I’ve bought for baby showers,” she said, carefully folding the garment back up. “Now these are mine…”

  She beamed at him. “Thank you.”

  “For what?” he asked.

  She took his hand and placed it over her abdomen, and then laced their fingers together. “For this. With everything that’s going on, I have no business being happy, but I am.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY SIX

  “By my estimate, there is enough to last a month,” Beau said. “Perhaps two, if we ration heavily.”

  Erik nodded in agreement. They were standing in the dome-shaped cavern that held their food stores. Row upon row of shelves had been hewn into the walls, holding everything from bundles of vegetation, spices, oils, and salted meats. The room had been Sabine’s responsibility, and she had managed it well. When he’d gone in there two months ago, all of the shelves, save for the two topmost, had been cram packed with food. In the weeks following Sabine’s death, almost everything with protein had been cleared out.

  Under Erik’s meticulous watch, the storage room had seen a modest resupply, though nothing close to its former glory. He knew that no matter how hard he pushed the wolves, they would never be able to restock it during the winter months, when the nights were bitterly cold and most prey had either migrated south or had hidden itself underground.

 

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