She swallowed the meat without tasting it, and it felt like a hard lump going down her esophagus.
“More?” Zane asked, holding another chunk of meat up.
Ginnifer shook her head, refusing to meet his gaze a second time. “No, thanks. I’m really not that hungry.”
***
“Kuva, will you carry Indigo today?” Zane phrased it as a question, but he knew that the beta male wouldn’t object. Of course, it wouldn’t stop Indigo.
“I can walk fine,” she said as she gathered up her scant belongings.
Zane inclined his head. “I know you can walk, but you can’t run, not yet.”
To his relief, she didn’t complain further. Kuva had already shifted, and as soon as she’d smoothed out her furs, Indigo climbed onto his back, hanging her legs over one side of him.
Zane looked at Ginnifer, who was looking at Kuva warily, her bottom lip sucked in between her teeth. The sight caused a haze of desire to cloud his mind, and his index finger itched with the memory of touching that soft, plump lip. Not wanting the others to smell his arousal, he refused to let his thoughts linger on it for long.
“Kuva can carry you both,” Zane told her, walking over to reclaim his pelt from the human. She handed it to him, giving him a speculative look. “Or you can ride with me, but I’ll be scouting ahead and it may be dangerous.”
They were already well within Siluit borders and far from danger, but Zane needed an adequate excuse for why he could carry her, but not his sister. Ginnifer appeared to weigh her options, though Zane could see through her pretense.
“I’m not worried,” she said after brief deliberation. “And I wouldn’t want to put too much strain on Kuva’s back.”
Moments later, he was in his wolf form and Ginnifer was spreading a spare pelt on his back. She climbed up, her thighs clamping tightly to his sides. His blood heated at the feel of her pressed against him, and he inwardly groaned, wondering what the hell he was doing.
When he’d awoken that morning, it had been with the conviction that he would go ahead of the others, avoiding the human female completely. Once he was back at his den, there would be more than enough distractions to keep him occupied until she was gone.
The encampment had been quiet that morning, and even Kuva, who always rose with the first hint of sunlight, had been sleeping soundly. When Zane had seen Ginnifer, with her body sprawled in an uncomfortable position, her long legs exposed from beneath the pelt Kuva had given her, he had removed his own pelt, covering her with it before he was even aware of what he was doing. He had stared at her for a while, his abdomen tightening at the way the dark fur contrasted with her pale skin.
Strange thoughts had invaded his mind as he watched her. He thought of gently waking her, a finger pressed to her lips to keep her quiet. He would lead her away, until they were far from curious ears. He would close his mouth over hers, and he would kiss her until there could be no doubt that she wanted him as badly as he wanted her. And then he would offer to take her somewhere, somewhere far off and secluded, where they could be alone.
Before his thoughts had been able to spiral any further, Kuva had begun to stir. Zane had made a point to step away from Ginnifer, but his pelt on her had drawn the beta’s attention.
“She was cold,” he said with a diffident shrug.
Kuva’s response was a questioning look, and Zane had felt his jaw locking.
“You know I won’t claim her,” Zane had said, his voice low, but hard. He had almost said can’t, but he refused to admit that as an alpha there was anything beyond the realm of his control.
As he’d shot Kuva a sharp look, he’d inwardly thought, neither can you. Though his wolf nagged at him that this wasn’t entirely true. A beta male could chose to claim a mate and sire pups, though doing so would require him to be willing to break off and become alpha of his own pack. Kuva could do that, in theory, and it wouldn’t be the first time that he’d tried to do so. But Zane could tell from the way Ginnifer regarded Kuva, that she wasn’t interested in him. Zane hadn’t even been sure if she was interested in him, which was probably why he was so intrigued.
At least, that was what he’d assumed. When he’d slipped the piece of meat into her warm mouth and their eyes had locked, Zane had seen desire flare in those light brown orbs, the same desire he’d seen in countless females who had regarded him over the years, but the effect it had on him was different than most other times. For an instant, he’d felt like a juvenile again, suffocating under the weight of powerful urges he didn’t understand. And in the next instant, he’d felt very much like a grown male, and he had known exactly what he wanted, and could clearly see all of the things he would do with her.
A light touch on his ear sent his mind reeling back to the present. His wolf form must have eased her reservations, because Ginnifer had one glove off, and she was running her fingers over his pierced ear.
“How do they stay in, even after you shift?”
Her voice sounded distant, and he realized that she was only musing aloud, knowing he couldn’t answer in his present state. Just as Zane moved to lean into her touch, she pulled her hand back and placed it on the back of his neck.
During the first part of the day, Zane stayed within sight of the others. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust them to look after Indigo, but rather, he didn’t trust himself to go far with Ginnifer. But after several hours, the thrill of having her astride him dulled, and the monotony of travel caught up to him. It had been nine days since he’d left home in search of Indigo, and despite the troubles that waited for him back at the den, he was eager to be done with the impromptu journey.
With home only hours away, he began to speed up, pushing himself to a pace that he knew the others wouldn’t be able to keep. If he continued on as he was, he could be back in his den by morning, and Ginnifer would become nothing more than a mild distraction.
The yellow sun turned gold, then orange, and then red as it set, until twilight bathed the landscape in the soft glow of moonlight and a lazy green aurora. Zane climbed a hillside crag, treading carefully so as not to scrape the human’s leg on the sharp rocks. She didn’t express any concern about the height or the precarious path that he took, but he thought he could hear her teeth gnashing each time he leapt from rock to rock.
At the top of the steep hill, she sucked in a breath. It had been Zane’s home all his life, but he still appreciated the view of the inlet, where the sea turned into the land, narrowing into a large river. No one knew for certain how deep the water went. When they were much younger, he and Tallow had often competed to see who could go down the farthest.
Beyond the inlet lay the massive island that held their den at its center. Zane thought that if he squinted, he could almost see the spire in the distance, but he knew that it was still several hours out.
His steps lighter than before, he trotted down the other side of the hill. Its smooth slope made for a much easier walk, and he’d reached the foot within a few moments. It was another short while before he was at the inlet, and then he walked alongside the water, enjoying the clean, crisp smell of the ocean air.
Without the buffer of the hills, the wind carried cold air over the water and the valley that bordered it. He didn’t mind the cold, but he could feel the human tensing each time a gust swept past. He was glad once he caught sight of the boats, beating against one another at the dock. Slowing to a stop, he waited until she took his cue to climb down, and then he shifted.
When he was back in his human form, she was staring at him in wide-eyed wonderment. He stood with his pelt flung over one shoulder, naked and feeling more than a little smug.
“That pelt,” she said, rubbing her chin. “That’s the one you took from me this morning.”
Zane nodded, though he felt slightly put out as he realized that it wasn’t his body that had caught her interest. He wrapped the pelt around his shoulders, allowing it to shroud his tall form from the cold. Then, he bent down to pick up the spare pelt
she’d been sitting on.
“I didn’t see you bring it,” she went on to say as she strode up to him, her hand reaching out to caress the fur.
Zane was beginning to realize that when her curiosity was piqued, she lost all sense of human propriety. His predator’s instincts immediately wondered to what extent he could use this to his advantage.
“You did,” he said, guiding her towards the dock at an unhurried pace.
Her lips parted briefly, and then she smiled triumphantly. “That’s your fur!” At his responding nod, she gave a jump so abrupt it gave him a small start. “That’s amazing! How does that work? Is it the same for all of you? I didn’t notice it when the others shifted. Does it have something to do with being an alpha?”
Zane stopped and leaned his hand on a dock post. He answered her questions in the order that they came, though he was unsure if he’d caught them all.
“My shift is tied to my pelt. It isn’t the same for the others, nor is it the same for most shifters. It has nothing to do with being an alpha, it’s a byproduct of my bloodline.”
“Are you a different type of shifter?”
“In a sense,” he said thoughtfully. It wasn’t something he’d ever had to explain before, and he found that he enjoyed sharing his background with someone who didn’t know everything about him. “Remember how I told you that in the past, shifters didn’t breed with humans? Back then, they were all like me. When they took human form, they shed their pelts, and when they shifted back into animal form, their pelts merged with their human flesh.”
Ginnifer was fumbling with her camera, but he put a hand over hers and shook his head. Her posture slumped with disappointment, but she put her camera back into her pocket.
“So are you some sort of genetic throwback, then?”
Zane knew very little about genetics, only what he’d heard in passing from Indigo, so he didn’t address her question directly.
“All of the females in my bloodline have been shifters, my mother included. None of the males in my family have ever taken a human mate.”
“Wow,” she said, though she appeared troubled. “Can I ask, what advantages are there to not breeding with humans? Does it make you stronger? And even so, does it negate the disadvantage of needing a pelt to shift? I mean, what if you lost it? It must be such a pain to keep track of it all the time.”
It amazed Zane how at times she could be so quiet, and at other times, a veritable fountain of questions.
“How about we talk on the way?” he asked, nodding towards one of the boats.
Her brows rose, and she looked at the dock as if noticing it for the first time. “We’re going across the water?” She eyed the wooden boat dubiously. “In that?”
He grinned. “I could always carry you across on my back.”
With that, she hustled to the nearest rowboat, climbing in on unsteady feet. Zane climbed in behind her, and the boat gave a lurch and dipped low under his weight. He took a seat across from her, suddenly feeling unsure, even though he knew there was no other reasonable way for them to cross the water.
Ginnifer’s face was pale, and she sat with her fingers laced tightly together. She looked as though a strong breeze would send her scrambling back for the dock. It struck him as odd, as he’d seen her show less anxiety when facing down a group of armed men only two nights back.
As though reading his mind, she murmured, “Everyone has something they’re afraid of right?”
Zane untied the hitch without offering a response. He hooked the oars in place and dipped the paddles into the water. With two strong strokes, they were leaving the dock behind.
The current did most of the work from there, though Zane waited a few moments before drawing the oars up. He could have paddled them directly across the inlet and then gone the rest of the way by foot. But traveling by water would be quicker, and not to mention easier on his tired bones. Though she didn’t know it, Ginnifer made the decision for him, as she gradually began to relax.
“It’s not the boat,” she said, her eyes on the water. “It’s the dark and the deep. There’s no telling what’s under there, and it must be so cold.”
He could tell she was beginning to fixate again, and considered distracting her by continuing their earlier discussion. But another thought came to him, and although he told himself his intentions were only to calm her, Zane never had been good at lying to himself.
“Tell me about your male,” he said, and then coolly added, “the one who allowed you to come to this place alone.”
He could see her repressing a laugh as she said, “I’m not alone, I have Boaz.”
Zane scoffed at that. “You mean Boaz has you.”
He still had no respect for the skinny human, who had not only led the hunters directly to Ginnifer, but had turned tail and fled without her when Zane and his pack had arrived.
“Well, for starters, that’s one thing I like about Aaron. He doesn’t try to control me,” she said, giving him a pointed look. “When I told him I was going to come up here, he fully supported my decision.”
“Did he not understand the danger you would be in?”
In Zane’s mind, any male that would allow his mate, intended or otherwise, to put herself in harm’s way was not worthy of having a mate at all.
“It’s part of my job,” she told him. “His too, actually. Aaron is a nurse in the Peace Corps. He works primarily out of Tanzania now, but he’s been all over Africa. When we met, he was always going from one war-torn region to another, helping to dig ditches and build houses. One summer when I was visiting him, we were held at gunpoint by a militia. He spent four hours talking them down until they agreed to let Boaz and I go, and then he stayed with them for the rest of the night, and by morning, they’d left the village in peace.”
Zane had succeeded in distracting Ginnifer from her anxiety, but the way she spoke of her male made his own mood sour. All the same, he listened attentively, while reminding himself that this was a good thing. His obvious shortcomings notwithstanding, her intended mate seemed like a capable male, and it wasn’t as though Zane had any real intention of claiming her for himself.
But just as he was thinking that, she said something that made his wolf prick his ears up.
“Aaron is such a good guy. He’s perfect, too perfect sometimes, but what woman in her right mind would complain about that?”
Ginnifer sucked in her lips and then let out a puff of air. She seemed to have been talking to herself more than him, and her lack of awareness made it all the more easier for him to pounce.
“I can’t imagine anyone being too perfect,” he said, keeping his tone neutral.
She lifted one shoulder. “I guess. I mean, when I was a kid, everyone always thought I was perfect. My mom was the worst. She always expected me to be the best at everything. I was never allowed to have any hobbies, it was always whatever she wanted me to do—piano, ballet, gymnastics, tennis, and that’s not even the half of it. She has an entire room filled up with first place trophies—anything less went right in the garbage.
“Everyone thought I was perfect,” she said again. “And it was awful. There was always this horrible pressure to be the best, and I was terrified of failing, of being a disappointment. All I wanted was to be able to screw up sometimes like everyone else.”
She looked up at him, and even in low light, he could see her cheeks color. It was the first time he’d seen her blush.
“Anyway, I’m rambling,” she said. “The point that I probably should have gotten to sooner is that when I met Aaron, it was like he walked on water. He never misspeaks, or makes a mistake. He always seems so sure of himself, he’s never afraid, or jealous, or vain… I guess it makes me think that maybe he doesn’t trust me enough to show me his insecurities, or worse, that he doesn’t have any at all. It’s so intimidating…”
The wind blew northward, causing her scent to wash over him. She no longer smelled like Boaz, though traces of Kuva’s scent still clung to her.
More than anything, she smelled like him, though his wolf thought it wasn’t nearly enough.
“I can see how that would be difficult,” Zane said.
Her blush deepened. “I can’t believe I just told you all of that. We barely know each other, and here I am, babbling about my personal problems.”
“Sometimes it is easier to speak with someone separate from the situation.”
She gave him a self-depreciating smile. “No chance you’ll want to divulge your innermost feelings and make me feel a little less lame?”
Zane hesitated, though he wasn’t sure why. There was so much he could say, but was he willing to discuss his personal matters with a human he didn’t know well enough to trust?
You don’t trust her enough for a frank discussion and yet you want to claim her as your mate?
He opened his mouth to say…something, but whatever it was, it was lost in the sound of Ginnifer’s throaty cry. She jumped up and crossed her arms in front of her chest, a wild look of fear in her eyes. Zane was so preoccupied by her sudden outburst, that he didn’t immediately see what had frightened her.
“What is that?” she asked in high-pitched voice that sounded more suited for a girl than a grown woman.
The water reflected the pale light of the moon. In the center of the orb of light, a figure had broken through the surface of the inlet, like a wide, black bowl. His lips curved, and he took Ginnifer’s hand, pulling her back down. The boat dipped slightly as he settled her down beside him.
“It’s a whale,” he told her.
“Here?” she asked incredulously.
He wasn’t sure why that surprised her. The inlet was part of the sea, and it saw regular migrations of all sorts of ocean-dwelling creatures.
“What if it tips the boat?” she asked, craning her neck to get a better look at it. Zane expected her to pull out her camera and begin filming at any second, but her hands stayed where they were, tightly gripping his.
Capturing the Alpha (Shifters of Nunavut Book 1) Page 5
