Juneau to Kenai: An Imp World Novella (Northern Wolves Book 1)

by Debra Dunbar

  Eyeing the sky, I headed west a few extra miles, trying to pick up the scent of humans or campfire, or another shifter, and pausing frequently to listen.

  Nothing. Even if the other hunter had back-up on the ground, I didn’t think they’d attack tonight. They’d want to be cautious and plan. Plus, they thought they were dealing with one human with one rifle. Under other circumstances, Leon would be dead. Under other circumstances, Kennedy would have been alone out here, trying to get to the bay for a plane out. They’d know her route. Instead of risking themselves trying to sneak up on her in the dark and winding up like the dead guy in the brush, they’d plan a better attack. They’d find a good spot for ambush and they’d wait.

  And we’d be ready for them.

  Chapter 11

  Kennedy

  I unzipped Leon’s sleeping bag and wrapped him in it, thinking it would be best to not move him unless it was threatening rain. It was warmer tonight, and I’d noted that shifters didn’t seem as affected by cold as we humans were.

  That done I went to sit over by the unlit fire pit.

  “Cold?”

  I nodded. “A bit.”

  Brent disappeared into my tent and came out with my sleeping bag. He unzipped it turning it into a big blanket, but instead of wrapping me in it he sat down beside me, his back against a tree. Then he pulled me off the cold ground and onto his lap, wrapping the sleeping-bag blanket around the two of us. Our little cocoon. Warm with my face against his neck, he had one arm around my shoulder and had snuck one hand between my legs.

  “Can we talk now? I think, I mean you know, that I want more than just a vacation fling here. But I understand that you wouldn’t want to rush into something. I can’t leave my pack, and you have your career. I can fly down to Seattle a couple of times per month, so we can see how things go with us, but I don’t want that long term.”

  I didn’t either. “That’s a lot of money on airfare, Brent. And my schedules are all over the place. There needs to be at least one trauma surgeon on twenty-four seven, so there are times I sleep at the hospital and am on-call.”

  “I’m not worried about spending money on flights. And if you get called in while I’m there, that’s fine. Believe me, I understand responsibility. Your dedication to your patients is one of the things I lo—like about you.”

  Did he almost say the “L” word? Holy cow.

  “I’ll fly up here too. If I pull long shifts, I usually get three days off in a row. I’ll warn you, though, I might spend most of my time sleeping.”

  “Or not sleeping.” He said the words with a growly undertone that made me weak.

  Could this possibly work? As a surgeon, I was rarely home. Would he get frustrated with all the back and forth, with me getting called in occasionally and leaving him alone for days, with me being exhausted and not the most entertaining company after coming out of a long surgery? I’d need to make changes, because I didn’t want to spend the rest of my life alone, I wanted to spend it with Brent.

  “There’s a level two trauma center in Anchorage,” he said. “It’s less than a two-hour flight from Juneau. You could commute, especially if you have long shifts where you can stay at the hospital for a few days, then fly back home.”

  Home. I thought of a life in Juneau with Brent. I thought of him waiting for me, curling up with him in front of a fireplace. A life together. And he’d cared enough not only to work out a whole lot of back-and-forth travel, but to research what hospitals would have trauma surgeons on staff. My eyes stung with tears at the thought.

  “I looked into the hospital in Juneau, but it’s just a regional hub. They stabilize then medivac patients up to Anchorage.” He turned his head to kiss my forehead. “You’d be bored. And all your talent would be wasted there. I wish I could move to Anchorage, but this is Swift River Pack territory, not ours.”

  His voice had a nervous edge to it that made me smile. He was worried I’d say no, that I’d think this was all too much bother, or that I wouldn’t want to leave Seattle. Silly wolf.

  “There are actually two level two trauma centers in Anchorage,” I told him. “I should apply to them now, since I don’t know how long it will take for a position to open up. Not bragging, but I’ve got a bit of a reputation in professional circles, so I’m sure they’ll figure out the budget to bring me on sooner rather than later.”

  He caught his breath. “It’s not bragging if it’s true. I’m sure they’ll snap you up right away. I live in the Alpha’s house. It’s huge and I think you’d like it, but it’s not always the most private place in the world. The pack tends to come and go. We host most of our get-togethers there as well as meetings. It’s not uncommon for half a dozen wolves to spend the night in the guest rooms. Sometimes it’s more like living in a resort hotel than a home. If that’s not your thing, we can get something smaller, just for the two of us.”

  “No. This is your responsibility and the pack is your family. Your dedication to your pack is one of the things I love about you.”

  There. No more tip-toeing around.

  His arm tightened around me. “I fell for you the moment I met you on the other side of the rift, when you elbowed me out of the way and called me ‘Muscles.’”

  “So you like a bossy woman, do you?” I teased.

  “I love you. Bossy, take-charge, smart, kind, compassionate, sexy. Did I mention sexy?”

  I scooted my butt a bit on his lap. “We’re going to do the frequent-flyer thing until I get a job in Anchorage, then I’m moving all my crap up to your giant house/hotel, and we’ll live happily ever after. Are we done talking? Can we get to the sex part of our itinerary now?”

  He chuckled and I felt it rumble through his chest. “Absolutely.”

  His one hand slid farther up, stroking between my thighs. I shifted to give him better access and his fingers pressed harder, working their magic. I bunched up his shirt, exploring the ridges of his glorious abs up to firm pecs. He made a low noise, then took his hand away. Before I could protest he was unbuttoning my pants and easing his hand inside.

  “Maybe I should take those off,” I suggested.

  “Maybe I should help you.” He scooped me up as he stood then set me on my feet, our sleeping bag blanket still wrapped around us. Then he let the blanket slide to the ground and hooked his thumbs in my waistband, easing my cargo pants slowly down.

  I shivered, the air cold on my thighs. Once my pants hit my knee he let them drop and skated his fingers up the back of my legs. I leaned against him, my hands on his shoulders for balance as I wiggled the pants free of my feet, which put my thighs right against his cheek. I felt the brush of his beard, heard him inhale sharply, then he kissed the inside of my thighs, sucking and licking as he worked his way upward. Hooking a finger at the base of my panties, he pulled them aside and explored me with his fingers and mouth. There was something so incredibly sexy having him on his knees before me, not even waiting to get my underwear off first.

  “You’re so wet,” he murmured against me. “You taste amazing. I could do this forever.”

  “Oh, good,” I gasped. Or maybe it was “Oh, God.” I wasn’t sure because at that point all I could do was try to keep my balance as I rocked my hips against him. He was slow and methodical, bringing me to the edge over and over, but keeping my orgasm teasingly out of reach. My legs shook, my fists bunching his shirt at the shoulders as he explored every crease and fold, tasting, sucking, gently nipping. Just when I thought I’d go insane he made a low growl that rumbled through me and speared me with his tongue, thumb working my nub. I fell apart, shaking and crying out as I came against him.

  Then he gently eased off my underwear and stood to lift my shirt over my head. While he unsnapped my bra, I unbuttoned his pants, carefully easing the zipper down.

  “I’ll get that. You’re cold,” he said, stooping to grab the discarded sleeping bag and wrap me in it. I was cold, but my shivering had more to do with desire than the chill spring air. I pulled the blanket a
round me and watched as Brent wiggled out of his pants and yanked off his shirt.

  He was so gorgeous, a wall of tanned muscle with dark curls scattered across his chest and down his abdomen to a darned impressive erection. I opened my arms to welcome him into the sleeping bag and we stood for a moment pressed against each other, his heat instantly warming me.

  I held the blanket while he sat down on, me straddling his lap. He was sitting on a log, and my legs were spread on either side of his waist. The length of his cock rested against my stomach and I wasn’t sure how he intended this to work.

  “Hold my shoulders,” he told me.

  I looked up into his warm brown eyes and saw love, desire, and a naughty twinkle. I’d barely got my hands on his shoulders before he lifted me upward and maneuvered me into position, then he slowly lowered me down. I gasped with the glorious feel of myself stretching around him as he slid into place. He lowered me all the way until my pelvis rested against his, the whole time watching me, his eyes reflecting every sensation he felt. We sat for a few heartbeats, then I tightened myself around him and shifted my hips.

  “Easy,” he chuckled. “Give me a second or this going to be over way too fast.”

  I obliged, instead tracing the lines of his shoulders with my fingers, working them up the column of his neck to feel the angle of his jaw under the dark beard. He dropped his head and kissed me. He tasted warm and wild, with a hint of my own scent on his tongue. It reminded me of how incredible his mouth and fingers had felt, and I tightened against him once more.

  “Screw it,” he murmured against my mouth. “Slow next time. I can’t wait any longer.”

  His fingers curled around my hips and he began to lift and lower me, thrusting his pelvis in rhythm. I threw my head back, losing myself in the feeling of him inside me, of his muscled arms against me, of his mouth kissing down the column of my neck. Faster. Harder. I felt every muscle in my body tighten, felt him swell inside me. He drove himself deep and held me there, and with a cry I came. His release was a split second after mine, his body shaking as he pulsed inside me.

  Then his hands left my hips to wrap around my waist and pull me tightly against him. Our breaths mingled, our bodies still joined, our hearts beating in time as we rode the lessening tide of orgasm.

  “Love you,” I whispered as I brushed my lips against his.

  “And I love you,” he whispered back.

  I felt him twitch inside me and smiled, giving him a quick soft kiss. “And in about ten to twenty minutes, I’m going to show you just how much I love you.”

  He twitched again. “Blow job? Anal? You on top? Doggie style?”

  “All of the above. Although maybe not at the same time.”

  “Well then,” he rocked his hips against me. “Let’s get this party started.”

  Chapter 12

  Brent

  I was up before Kennedy and left her snoozing in the sleeping bag to go put on water for coffee and breakfast. Neither of us had gotten much sleep, and the remembrance of how we’d passed the night had me pitching a tent in my pants. Later. We needed to get moving as soon as we ate and broke camp. Once we were safely out of here, I intended to spend whatever remained of Kennedy’s vacation in bed with her, but right now, in the harsh dawn light, the danger of our situation was weighing heavily on me.

  Digging out the breakfast food packets, I left the water to heat up and went to check on Leon. The werewolf opened his eyes when I approached and wiggled a paw.

  “Hey, look who’s back from the dead. We’re going to nickname you Lazarus,” I teased. As relieved as I was to see Leon conscious, he was still in his wolf form and still had that horrible smell of dead flesh about him.

  He stuck out his tongue at me and carefully stretched.

  “I’m going to get you some water. Can you shift back?” I asked.

  The wolf whined, so I took that as a no and put the water in one of the bowls, lifting his head to help him drink. “Can you eat anything? I’ve got some beef jerky, or you can wait for breakfast.”

  I was feeding Leon chunks of jerky when Kennedy woke. “Look who decided to join us for breakfast this morning,” I told her.

  She grabbed her crutches and came over. “Dude, we thought you were a goner.” She smiled and knelt down beside him. “We’re going to try to get you out of here. I think the plan is to make it to the river and paddle out. Can you shift back to a human form?”

  Leon furrowed his brow and chewed thoughtfully on a piece of jerky.

  “Let’s give him some time,” I told Kennedy. “You wash up and I’ll get us coffee and breakfast. Hopefully by the time we’re ready to break camp, he’ll at least be able to stand.”

  As we were beginning to clean up from breakfast I noticed that Leon was trying to shift. It took him nearly half an hour, but by the time we’d gotten the tents put away and our packs together, he was in human form, although still curled up on the ground.

  “Leon, what can we do for you?” Kennedy asked in a soft voice as she checked his heart rate and temperature, then examined the gunshot wounds, the whole time completely unfazed by the fact that the werewolf was buck naked.

  “Shoot me.” He grimaced. “This time in the head. I’ve never felt so horrible in my life. Why am I not healing?”

  “You’re lucky you’re not dead,” I told him. “Remember that grizzly shifter that went missing last week? Well, one of his sloth came out looking for him—Ian. I found him shot and dying. He said there are a group of hunters targeting weres, and they’ve got bullets coated with something that makes us shift and not heal.”

  “Why make us shift?” Leon winced and curled up tighter. “I’d rather face a grizzly shifter in his human form than in his bear one.”

  “Yeah, well mounting a human head on a wall will get you a life sentence. Mounting a bear head on the wall will get you a thumbs-up from fellow hunters—especially ones who can tell the difference between a shifter and a really big animal.”

  Leon looked even more pale at the idea. “We need to get out of here. It’s a thirteen-mile hike to Fox River, then a thirty-mile paddle to the bay.”

  “You’re in no condition to do a thirteen-mile hike,” Kennedy protested.

  “I don’t have a choice. Help me up.”

  Before I could give Leon a hand, Kennedy elbowed me out of the way. “No. You’re not getting up until I check you out. Now hold still.”

  I watched with amusement as she pressed on his abdomen and had him take several breaths while she had her ear pressed to his back. The whole time Leon looked at me wide-eyed. I shrugged. Bossy doctor always won over even the most assertive werewolf. When she was done she stood and gave me a nod.

  “We go slow. Brent, you carry his pack along with yours and we need to pause every hour so I can check on him. If I say we’re done for the day, we’re done. Got it?”

  “Can I at least put on clothes?” Leon asked, his voice full of awed wonder.

  “Most definitely. I don’t want to have to yank stinging nettles and Devil’s Club thorns out of your behind tonight.”

  She headed off to break down the tents, leaving the pair of us to stare after her.

  “So she is your woman,” Leon finally said. “Can’t think of any other reason for you to be up here, out of your territory, tracking us through hundreds of miles of trails.”

  I smiled, watching Kennedy’s ass as she tied her sleeping bag to the bottom of her backpack. “Yeah. She’s my woman.”

  Leon nodded. “Just so you know, I’ve kept my hands to myself. Don’t want you to think I crossed any lines or been anything but respectful.”

  I thought about the exchange I’d witnessed with the berries. I’d never fault a man for flirting or being playful, even if it was with a mated woman. Yeah, I got jealous, but I would have been a crappy Alpha to let it cloud my common sense. And I knew Leon. He had a reputation for being an honorable guy.

  “I’ve got no problem with you Leon. It’s all good.”


  He relaxed, and smiled at me. “She’s a gutsy girl, Brent. She’d make a fine mate for an Alpha.”

  Yes. Yes, she would.

  Chapter 13

  Kennedy

  About five miles along Leon was unable to continue. I wanted to camp, but Brent was determined to make it to the river. After a rather heated argument he grabbed my pack, picked Leon up in his arms and kept going—which meant he was carrying everything including my guide. I fumed, trailing after him. I’ll admit that we were able to travel faster that way, although I’m sure Leon’s pride was bruised.

  Ten hours after we’d left camp we made it to the river. Brent deposited Leon and the packs, then scouted around for a defensible spot for us to settle in for the night. I yanked out the tiny camp stove and filtered water, figuring I might as well get us some dinner. Leon was looking pasty and weak, but I managed to get him to swallow a few aspirin with some water and eat a granola bar. Brent still wasn’t back by the time the water was ready, so I got the pad Thai ready, made tea, and wrapped Leon in his sleeping bag as he rested.

  I was done eating and keeping Brent’s food warm by the time he returned, sweaty, muddy, and covered in briars.

  “I found a spot a few miles downriver.” He picked up the backpacks and I pulled them from his hands.

  “Sit. Eat. Let Leon sleep a bit longer. We’ve got enough time to get two miles before it gets dark.”

  He shook his head. “No fire and no flashlights. Unless you can set up tents in the dark, we should leave now.”

  “Sit.” I scowled and pointed to a boulder. “You overruled me once today, you won’t get your way this time. Take ten darned minutes to eat, and we’ll go.”

  His lips twitched, but he sat. I brought over his meal and handed it to him.

  “Are you mad at me for earlier?” he asked. “And thank you, by the way, for getting dinner together.”