His posture slacked as he began to succumb to sleep. Ginnifer stared at him, wanting badly to crawl over and cuddle up beside him.
As though reading her mind, he said, “If you get cold, come lay beside me. I will keep you warm.”
She thought she could feel his sleep-roughened words brush against her skin.
“I think I might take a quick walk before dark.”
As she spoke, she braced herself for an argument, the same one they’d had every time she’d asked to stretch her legs and take some pictures. Yes, she would watch where she was walking. No, she wouldn’t go too far. Yes, she wouldn’t be gone long. Even after all that, he usually gave a vague “it isn’t safe” and told her to stay put. Then, she would have to remind him that she’d done just fine on her own for two months, before Indigo got her mixed up with trouble. Then, he would remind her of how she almost lost her foot to a bear trap. Then they would come full circle, with her telling him that she’d watch where she was walking, wouldn’t go too far, and wouldn’t be gone long.
He could be infuriating sometimes, but…she also kind of liked it.
Her father had spent the better part of her childhood away from home, and even when he’d been there, his mind was always on his work. Her mother had been a proponent of tough love, and the only thing she’d ever guarded Ginnifer from was too much television. One of the things Ginnifer had liked about Aaron was how much he valued her independent nature, but she had always inwardly wished that he’d be a little protective of her.
She knew that if given enough time, she’d get sick of Zane’s overprotectiveness and probably grow to resent it, but for now it was a guilty pleasure of hers, having him obsess over her safety.
So she was a little disappointed when he only frowned and said, “Be back before the snow picks up.”
By the time Ginnifer had located her camera and booted it up, Zane’s eyes were closed again. It was a measure of how tired he was, because she had yet to see him fall asleep in his human form.
She got up, pulling her fur-lined coat taut around her waist. While the cave wasn’t the least bit comfortable, it did shield them from the wind, and she hoped that they’d stay there through the night. She needed sleep badly, just not right now.
If I stay… She looked over at Zane, quietly dozing. Her eyes followed a familiar path over the strong line of his jaw, the high slopes of his cheekbones, and the firm edges of his soft lips.
She needed to get away for a bit, clear her mind and breathe air that didn’t smell like him. Otherwise, she knew that she would find herself sitting beside him. He would stir, and wrap her up beneath his pelt, pulling her into his arms, against his hot skin. And then neither of them would be tired anymore, and all it would take was for one of them to get the wild idea that they could be together just once—they could indulge in each other one time, and then everything could go back to the way it had been before.
Ginnifer turned and trudged out of the cave, relishing the feel of the cold wind against her burning cheeks.
As Zane predicted, snow began to fall, first in light flurries, and then in clumpy flakes. It was her favorite sort of snow, the kind that cast a sparkle and a hush over everything it touched.
There were a few evergreens that still held fast to the hard, rocky ground. She knew that in the morning, once the snow had time to accumulate, the sparse branches would be dressed in white.
She had her camera out, taking a few pictures to busy herself. She hadn’t filmed a single part of the trip to and from Port Trent, for the same reason she tried not to film any distinctive landmarks around the den. While she believed her documentary would change the way people viewed shifters, she also didn’t want anyone to be able to trace a path to Siluit’s doorsteps.
Ginnifer wandered for a while, letting her desire cool off. It took longer than usual, but eventually it subsided and her exhaustion returned to her, putting lead in her boots. As she headed back towards the cave, she got a jolt of energy at the sight of hoof prints, intersecting her own trail in the freshly fallen snow. She set her camera to record video and followed after them as quietly as she could.
Her perseverance was rewarded when she caught sight of four snowy white caribou in the distance, one of them with a spectacular set of antlers. She hid behind a cluster of snow-covered rocks, though she was probably too far away to be seen, and zoomed her camera in on the group. They had stopped to dig up the snow, and were munching on what appeared to be lichen.
She pulled her facemask up and settled into her hard seat. Peary caribou were a rare find, and she was content to film them for as long as they stayed in the area, even as the snow began to pile up on her shoulders and the top of her hood. Her camera handled the fading light well, and behind the lens she could hardly tell that night was almost upon her.
The caribou had the nervous habit of taking a few bites and then lifting their heads to survey the area. The large buck was particularly vigilant, and Ginnifer took notice when his gaze held in one direction, his body going rigid.
The sound of a wolf howling rang through the forest. Her pulse quickened, but she wasn’t afraid. Zane had told her that there were wolves—actual wolf packs—scattered throughout the region, and that they wouldn’t come near her so long as she smelled even a little like him. Even if he hadn’t told her as much, she wouldn’t have been worried. She and Boaz had encountered several wolf packs already, and she’d learned that they were either wary or outright afraid of humans.
She shrunk down a little lower, watching as the caribou grew agitated. They started to run in one direction, but another howl had them rearing up into an abrupt stop and then turning to run in the opposite direction.
If she had blinked, she would have missed what happened next. The snow seemed to come alive, taking the form of a massive white wolf. It lunged for one of the smaller females, pinning her to the ground as the others darted in every direction.
Ginnifer barely breathed as she watched the white wolf rip open the caribou’s throat with one quick snap of its jaws. Then, it lifted its head and let out a short bark.
It felt strange to be hiding from a wolf shifter within Siluit territory, but during her time with the pack, the only two wolves she’d seen that were as big as this one were Zane and Kuva, who were brown and grey respectively. This was not a Siluit shifter.
To the left of the wolf, a female appeared, and she was dragging the male caribou’s limp body by one antler. Pulse racing now, Ginnifer zoomed in on the woman. She was attractive, in a masculine sort of way, and tall, perhaps taller than Ginnifer herself, with long white hair. She was saying something to the big wolf, but Ginnifer was too far away to hear.
Another bark had her panning her camera to the right, where another wolf approached from a hill, this one as big as the other and with a silvery coat that seemed to shimmer. She would have followed the wolf, but her focus was locked on the other figure on the hill, a hulking male. He was in human form, but he was too tall, too muscular, too everything to be anything but a shifter. She zoomed in on his striking face, his ice-blue eyes seeming to glow.
A hand clamped down over her mouth, at the same time that a strong arm locked around her waist. Ginnifer was so engrossed in filming that she was briefly startled, even though she recognized Zane’s scent almost instantly. She nearly dropped her camera as he lifted her, carrying her away under one arm and not taking his hand from her mouth.
He was silent as he walked, and she wasn’t sure if that was because he was trying not to draw the attention of the other wolves, or if he was angry. He’d told her to be back before the snow picked up. It was a vague curfew, but with the branches of the trees already sagging beneath the weight of the snow, she knew she’d have a difficult time defending herself. She ran through a list of excuses, until she came up with one that was adequate, if not a little contrived, and she offered it the second her mouth was free.
“I would have been back sooner, but I was worried that if I moved, I’d draw th
e attention of those shifters.” And then, in hopes of redirecting him, she asked, “Who were they?”
“Amarok,” he said curtly.
It took her a few seconds to match the word with memory, but then it made perfect sense.
“Oh, yeah, the western pack. What are they doing here? Isn’t this your territory?”
“Yes,” he ground out.
Ginnifer couldn’t remember hearing him sound quite so angry, and she bit back her request to be put down.
The walk back was long, much longer than she remembered walking, and questions swarmed her mind. She tried to get a look at Zane’s face so that she could gauge his mood and see if it had improved, but his face was shrouded in darkness.
Everything was dark, she realized. Her eyes had adjusted to an extent, but with the last of the sunlight gone and the moon hidden behind the clouds, the world had been reduced to formless shadows. She was glad now that he was carrying her, because she never would have been able to navigate the dark forest on her own.
“I think that white wolf was bigger than Kuva,” she said. Anxiety made her fill the silence, even though Zane wasn’t responding. “The silver one, too. And that man, he was their alpha, wasn’t he? I wish I could have seen him shift, I’d bet he’s a gorgeous wolf.”
Zane set her down none too gently and her feet landed on hard stone. The wind was gone, and she realized they were back in the cave, though it was too dark for her to see her own hand in front of her face.
Ginnifer reached out for his arm on reflex, but only grasped a handful of his pelt. He surprised her by jerking away from her touch.
“Zane?”
She thought that if she could only see his face, she could figure out a way to fix whatever was wrong with him.
“What are you doing to me?” His voice was a whisper, as though he were asking the question to himself.
Ginnifer said, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to grab you like that. I can’t see anyth—”
The rest of the word was lost in a sharp exhale, as Zane pinned her between his solid body and the wall. His mouth came down hard on hers, muffling any protest she might have made.
If she didn’t recognize his scent—the scent that filled her nostrils and heated her blood—she would have thought that she was being ravaged by a stranger. There was the same sense of urgency that there had been the first time they’d kissed, but where there had been tenderness before, there was now only desperation and aggression.
Zane devoured her. Fangs that seemed bigger and longer than before nicked her lips and tongue more than once. He thrust his tongue into her, as his hips ground against her, a hard erection stabbing at her pelvis. One of his hands fisted her hair, gripping it so tightly she thought that he might pull it out. The other squeezed her thigh, his claws puncturing her jeans, and then the meat of her thigh.
Her reaction came in stages. Fear came first—fear of this man she didn’t know, fear of a man that wasn’t a man at all, but a wolf, who was strong enough to break her. She struggled against his hold, but she might as well have been struggling against the wall for the good it did her.
Rage came next—he wasn’t a stranger, he was Zane, she knew him, they were friends, more than friends, and he had no right to manhandle her. She grabbed a fistful of his hair, yanking at it as hard as she could. She managed to pull his head back a fraction of an inch, and took his bottom lip into her mouth, biting until she tasted blood that wasn’t her own.
Zane froze, and so did she. The only sounds were their panting breaths and the blood pounding in her ears. She could feel his eyes on her, could still feel his hardness pressed to her.
“Zane.” She said his name through gritted teeth.
He tilted his forehead to rest against hers. “I can’t handle this anymore. I need you.”
She let go of his hair, blinking back tears as her hand came to rest on the side of his face. “It doesn’t have to be like this. Think, Zane. When have I ever pushed you away? When have I ever told you no?”
Tilting his head downwards, she pressed a light kiss to one cheek, and then the other. As she rubbed her nose against his, he captured her lips in a gentle, tentative kiss. His grip on her loosened as she began to reciprocate, first with her mouth, and then with the slow undulation of her hips. His hands began to roam her body, stroking, caressing, and tugging at the layers of her clothes.
Desire came at last, and it burned away everything else, enveloping her, consuming her. Zane began rocking against her again, not as hard as before, but not at all softly. Each time his rigid length pushed against her clitoris, a thrill of pleasure rushed through her. With one hand on the back of his neck, she reached between them and grasped his cock, her eyes widening as she stroked the full length of him.
She had caught sight of him naked a few times, sometimes accidentally, sometimes on purpose. She had known he was well endowed, but actually feeling him when he was fully erect, a thick steel rod wrapped in velvet, made her shiver in anticipation.
A sound tore through Zane’s chest, something between a growl and a groan, and he deepened their kiss. His hands abandoned her breasts and went to her pants. At that moment, she wouldn’t have cared if he tore them open, but he undid the button and pulled down the zipper with deft, trembling fingers.
Her panties went down with her pants, falling to pool at her booted feet. She arched a leg up and guided him to her, nestling his crown between her slick folds. She wanted to rub him all over her, to tease and entice him, but the alpha would have none of that. The instant he was against her entrance, Zane thrust forward, sheathing himself deep inside of her.
She gasped, the sound almost lost in his harsh growl. It had been months since she’d had sex, and she never had anything like Zane in her. Pleasure teetered on the edge of discomfort, but then he began to move, thrusting ragged moans from her as she gripped at his shoulders for purchase. His head went to her neck, licking and sucking at her flesh.
In the beginning, she tried matching him blow for blow, but within moments that proved impossible, as he thrust into her at an inhuman pace. Finally, she gave up, allowing him to take charge and carry them both towards release.
Pressure quickly built, and she dug her nails into him in an effort to stave off her climax. It didn’t work. The muscles in her abdomen tightened, and then every other muscle in her body followed suit. All at once, everything let go, and she was lost in an ocean, unrelenting waves of ecstasy crashing against her.
She was distantly aware of snarling, before white-hot pain lanced her neck.
***
Mine.
The word took shape in the wolf’s head. It was a weak word, a poor attempt to describe an animalistic knowledge that was in his bones, within the fabric of his existence. She was his now, and sinking his teeth into her had felt better than coming.
Her whimpering cry did not diminish his exhilaration, but with a groan, he pulled his fangs free from her neck. The wolf stared at the twin gouges. His body had barely stopped spasming from his release, and already he could feel himself growing hard for her again.
My female.
She brushed her hand across her neck. Her fingers were sticky with blood. He wanted to lick them.
Not here. Have to go.
Amarok was out there. Other males, another alpha. He couldn’t stay here. He couldn’t risk letting them find his female. He had to get her away. Somewhere safe. Somewhere he could keep her until she was fertile, until she was carrying his pup. Then, it would be safe to bring her back to the den, back where there were other males that might challenge his claim.
Her lips trembled. “Boaz said it didn’t hurt.”
At the mention of the other male, the male who was always putting his scent all over her, the wolf growled. She flinched.
“Zane? Are you okay?”
She looked frightened. He needed to calm her. She needed to know she was safe with him. Only him.
He leaned to nuzzle the top of her head. Her scent was still
there. She smelled like no other female. Better than every other female the wolf had ever smelled. From the first time he had smelled her, the wolf had known she would be his mate.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Ginnifer woke to the smells of salt water, roasting meat, and sex. The latter came as no surprise to her. Zane had carried her northeast for over an hour to get her away from the Amarok pack. She’d been wiped out and painfully sore, and had tried to reason with him that the Amarok pack was probably long gone already, but Zane hadn’t been receptive to anything she’d said.
When they’d finally stopped, she’d been prepared to pass out, not at all caring that she had no idea where he’d brought her. But when she’d lain down, he had begun kissing her, his hand going between her thighs to stroke her, until she could put up no resistance when he pushed inside of her.
After he’d come twice, Zane started to seem more like himself. He’d asked her if he hurt her, and she had told him she was fine, even though he had obliterated her. He’d told her he hadn’t been in control, and that next time he’d be more careful. Ginnifer had wondered what he meant by next time, considering he was still hard inside of her, and already preparing to take her again.
She really had passed out after that time, and despite feeling like a sack of battered bones, she slept well, amazingly well. It was the kind of sleep that came when there were no worries or troubles, and everything was right and the way it should be.
Talk about delusional, she thought as she rubbed her eyes.
The first thing she saw was a small fire, which lit up a cavern no bigger than the bedroom she shared with Breeze. Staked beside the fire was a fish as big as her forearm, and the source of the mouthwatering smell.
Zane sat vigil by the fire, wet hair clinging to his face. His gold eyes were warm with affection as he turned to regard her. He reached out a hand to stroke her hair, and after the torrid night they’d shared, she was surprised to find that his touch could still put butterflies in her belly.
Capturing the Alpha (Shifters of Nunavut Book 1) Page 16
