Cloak of Snow (Totem Book 3)

by Christine Rains

“You will immediately return to the ranks of the Black Shamans, and you will serve until I deem your punishment done.”

  She blinked. No. He couldn’t do this. She wouldn’t.

  Rage boiled within her. Would she have been as angry if he whisked her away? Or was she mad he didn’t? It didn’t matter. He took her decision to leave the Black Shaman away from her. No way was she going to… Glancing at the people around them, her chest tightened. She had to.

  Sedge stepped toward her. “You will also now be under my tutelage. You will go where I go. You will hunt what I hunt. And you will obey me as you did your teacher before me.”

  Saskia screamed silently in her head. Her honor would not allow her to run and Sedge knew it. It was one thing to return to the ranks, and it might not have been horrible if Azarius was still her mentor. But to have Sedge as her master?

  She leaned in and whispered through clenched teeth, “Cut off my hand and be done with it.”

  Sedge’s smile quirked up a little more. He turned to raise his arms and faced the chief. “Today we save our tribe. We will hunt down the Jinxioc and kill every last one of them.”

  The people of Kuci cheered, and the circle folded in around them.

  Saskia stood stiffly as the tribe welcomed her and gave her their thanks. She remembered to be gracious, but inside, her fury whirled. If this was Sedge’s plan to reignite their relationship, he had another thing coming to him. She’d go where he went, and she’d make certain he was miserable every step of the way.

  Saskia whacked at the bushes in front of her with the wooden spear. Let’s bring weapons, she’d suggested. Sedge grumbled they didn’t need anything. She reminded him of the vicious pile of gnomes. He got them spears. What were they going to do? Shish kebab the devils?

  When she’d told him there were two rifles in her truck, he made her hand them over to the tribe. The humans needed the protection of the guns more than they did. She couldn’t deny them the rifles, but damn, it would’ve made the hunt a lot easier.

  Oh Big and Mighty Bear. Off to take on the Jinxioc. Charging in again. She hit the brittle bushes again.

  “Stop it.” Sedge barked. He trudged through the snow using his spear like a walking stick. “What are you doing?”

  “I’m searching for the Jinxioc.” Saskia flashed him a tight smile.

  He grunted. “Clearly you can see they aren’t in those bushes. Stop making so much noise.”

  Like the Jinxioc cared if they made noise. This was their territory. If intruders were about, they’d know it. “I’m looking for a den or cave. The entrance might be under the snow.”

  “No. It’ll be more obvious. The Jinxioc—”

  “The Jinxioc have become daring enough to kidnap people from within the village, and they have somehow masked their scent. Their pack is bigger than you thought possible, and they attacked two fucking polar bears. Whatever you know about them is irrelevant.” Saskia prodded a hole between two rocks, poked solid ground, and continued on.

  “You are supposed to respect and obey me like you do Azarius.” Sedge pointed his spear at her and then himself as he spoke. More than irritation made his words rumble.

  She grinned. “This is how I am with Azarius. Did you think I was a humble student?”

  He muttered something under his breath and marched on. If this was her punishment, she’d be sure it was his too. Any time she felt herself softening toward him, she’d only have to remind herself that he tricked her. It was possible he knew all along that she’d take the punishment for Dave and Aujaq. That’s why he made it so harsh. He knew he wouldn’t have to carry it out.

  “This would be much easier with Azarius. He would never underestimate his prey. In fact, he—” Saskia let out a yelp as she was yanked suddenly upward by her ankle and dropped her spear. The world turned upside-down as she cursed the trap that had snagged her.

  “Azarius didn’t teach you to watch where you step?” Sedge stuck his spear into the ground and held a hand up to her. “Let me pull you down.”

  “No thanks. I prefer to keep my leg intact.” Saskia reached under her coat and removed her hunting knife that she had retrieved from her truck before they left. “And, yes, he did teach me that. But with the snow…”

  She didn’t bother to continue. There was no excuse. She’d been too caught up in her anger to notice the trap.

  Grabbing hold of the back of her thigh, Saskia pulled herself up so that she could reach the rope around her ankle. She frowned. Not rope. Was that… human hair?

  A wave of fury and nausea rolled through her. “The Jinxioc. They did this.”

  “They do not set traps. They’re much more primal than that.” Sedge folded his arms, watching her wiggle in the air.

  “The loop is made from human hair.” She sniffed. “I’m pretty certain humans from Kuci too.”

  “What?” His chest rumbled as he stepped under her and lifted his nose to draw in the scent.

  She was too late to shout a warning. A black shape blurred close to the ground within the fast falling snow. One smashed into Sedge’s side, causing him to stumble to his right. A second flew at his chest and knocked him off his feet.

  Jinxioc.

  With a roar that started human, Sedge shifted and slammed the two gnomes into the rocks.

  Saskia sliced through the snare and twisted so she’d land on her feet. Three Jinxioc were on her before she even touched the ground.

  There were no screams as she shifted and nearly tore the head off one. With this many Jinxioc, she couldn’t fight them in her human form. One of the little bastards clawed the left side of her face. She headbutted it against the tree the snare had been in. Fuck, she wasn’t sure she could fight them in her bear form.

  It was all she could do to keep them from tearing her open like a piñata. And vicious as they were, there was a sort of sick glee even as their companions were ripped apart.

  She backed up, throwing a gnome off her side. Her rump hit something bigger and furry. Sedge. She dared a glance. No mountain of Jinxioc on him this time, but the fuckers were relentless.

  Just keep going. Kill them one by one. All they had to do was outlast the enemy.

  Blood splattered and soaked into the snow. Gnarly limbs and gnome pieces lay scattered around them.

  Claws and teeth. No room to think. Kill. Survive.

  Their high-pitched cries were like the shriek of a dying rabbit. Too many going for her eyes and nose. And Sedge said these things weren’t clever.

  Behind her, Sedge rose onto his hind legs. She followed suit, swatting at a gnome and sending it flying twenty feet into a huge rock. It hit with a wet crunch and rolled to the ground, snow clinging to its face like a demented version of Frosty.

  The Jinxioc seemed even quicker than the other day. And they climbed like damn squirrels. Did it matter she stood on two legs?

  So they were faster. Her claws were sharper, her teeth bigger, and her skin thicker.

  But where were they all coming from? Like an infinite river of snarling death.

  Saskia clapped one of their heads between her paws. Its skull cracked with a great gush of blood, and its black eyes rolled back as it died.

  She looked up too late to move fully out of the way. The Jinxioc had her spear, and they charged with it like battering ram. She bellowed her warning and dove to her left. Sedge moved in the same direction, slowing them both.

  The spear pierced her right hip and pushed through into Sedge’s thigh. The sudden pain made the world bright, then dark and bright again, matching the beating of her heart.

  She tipped to the left, but Sedge kept upright, which forced her to do the same. His roar rattled her bones. No ordinary cry. It was the Bear’s War Cry.

  The Jinxioc gripped their ears, keening as Sedge roared.

  A hand reached around—a human hand—and jerked the spear out of them. The pain sent Saskia to the ground.

  Sedge spun around in a full circle with the weapon in a two-handed grip. Several gnome
s fell as he whacked their heads with more strength than she had even as a bear.

  Silence. The remaining Jinxioc had fled. As any sane creature would do when faced with an angry bear. Or rather, a bear who was a man with the might of a god. And glorious he was standing over her, poised, in case any of them returned.

  A minute passed. Maybe two. Saskia shuddered and whined. She sat up and shifted, placing her hands over his laceration just as he dropped the spear to cover her wound.

  Her heart beat hard as they stared at each other. A lifetime passed in a few breaths. She didn’t want to let go.

  Her body jerked with another wave of pain. Sedge looked down and clenched his jaw before picking up handfuls of snow to pack against her hip. “Dress. I’m taking you back.”

  Saskia didn’t need to be told to conjure clothing. Thick wools and furs from head to toe. Not that it stopped the pounding in her hip. “We’ll rest… go after them again… with a better plan.”

  “Not you.” Sedge stood with her in his arms. He dressed in white with not a speck of blood on him. “I’ll take care of the Jinxioc myself.”

  Saskia pushed him, attempting to be free of his arms. “Like fucking hell. I’m going too.”

  “You are my student. You will do as I command.” Sedge strode through the woods back toward Kuci. His long strides fast and steady.

  “I go where you go.” She gave up fighting his hold, but she refused to be left out of the hunt.

  Sedge growled and ducked under a branch. But he didn’t say no.

  The fact that he didn’t argue only proved how dire their situation truly was.

  Somewhere along the way, the throbbing pain drew Saskia into unconsciousness. When she woke, it was dark and warm. Familiar scents calmed her as her eyes adjusted. She noted she was also alone in Aluki’s family’s cabin.

  Saskia propped herself up on her elbows. The soft hide of the furs slid against her bare skin. Seemed she was naked and, running her hand down to her hip, stitched up too. The wound radiated heat, but it didn’t threaten to lead her to darkness again.

  Flames danced within the stove, but no candles or lanterns were lit. Her eyes didn’t need much light, but it made her wonder how long she had been alone. Where was Sedge?

  She smelled him on the furs, on her. Lowering her nose, she breathed in deep. His scent affected her like a drug. She wanted to roll in it and rub it all over herself. More so, she wanted him to rub himself all over her.

  In the wild, bears didn’t mate for life. But often, they chose the same mate years in a row. As shifters, they loved deeply and rarely did bears leave their mate once they’ve found them. Her mom and dad were inseparable until cancer parted them forever. She feared her father would never recover after her mother’s death, but after several years, he returned to a semblance of normalcy. He’d lost something, though. He was never the same man to her again.

  Saskia walked on the edge of a blade that had only doom for the person she wanted to be on either side. Submit to Sedge and bear his cubs, or never see him again and suffer without him for the rest of her life.

  If only he weren’t the fucking Bear. Well, then he wouldn’t be him.

  She sighed as she felt the tickle of nature calling. At least there was a honey bucket in the corner.

  Business done, she slipped back under the furs just as the door opened. She jerked into sitting position and hissed with the stab of pain in her hip.

  Sedge stepped inside and closed the door behind him. He eyed her and set down a covered tray by the stove. “You should be lying down.”

  “I was.” Saskia’s nose twitched at the sudden savory scent of meat, and saliva filled her mouth. Her stomach rumbled as she licked her lips. Holy hell, she was hungry. She could eat a whole damn moose.

  “Go on. Eat.” Sedge removed his coat. “The hunters brought down four caribou today. They say it is because I am here they are granted extra strength.”

  Ignoring her hip, Saskia crawled out of the furs and grabbed the tray, lifting the cloth that covered it. Oh God. Nothing had ever smelled so delicious.

  She grabbed the biggest piece and raised it to her mouth. Dammit.

  Slowly lowering the food, she asked, “Is it male or female?”

  “Female.” Sedge laid his coat down and kicked off his boots. The gift she would offer had to be gender-centric.

  “Thank you for bringing me this food and thank you to the brave hunters.” She bowed her head to the meat. “Thank you, great Caribou Mother, for providing us with meat of your children. May your daughter know peace, and…” She glanced around and picked up the needle and thread. “I offer to you these. You may take them with you to the afterlife.”

  It seemed a paltry offer, but she had nothing more to give. Spying the little table and chairs, she smiled. “I share this bounty with your friends and mine, the little people.”

  Saskia tore off a strip of meat and placed it on the table. Then, with the next few heartbeats, she brought the meat to her mouth and took a huge bite. Oh yeah. Even better than she anticipated.

  Sedge sat on the floor across from her, silent as she ate.

  Very aware of his gaze on her, she focused on the food. Or rather, she tried to. After Saskia ate enough for three grown men, she stopped and wiped the sides of her mouth with her fingers. “What?”

  “I do like a woman with a healthy appetite.” He motioned to the remaining food and smiled. The smile that told her he knew something she didn’t.

  She narrowed her gaze as she reached over for another hunk of meat. What was going on in that man’s head? She settled back as comfortable as she could get. The warm juice from the caribou dripped onto her leg, and she swiped it off.

  Her bare leg.

  Dammit. She was naked.

  Saskia conjured a sweatshirt and sweatpants. It was one thing him seeing her nude in battle or taking care of wounds in the aftermath, but she wasn’t anyone’s pin-up girl.

  To wipe the look of amusement from his eyes, she asked, “How long have I been out?”

  “It’s almost midnight.” His brows furrowed and then softened. “How do you feel?”

  “Better. More so that I have food in me now.” Saskia took a bite, chewed, and swallowed. “Does anyone else know I’m wounded?”

  “They might suspect it. I told them we killed many of the Jinxioc, but they are not yet gone.” Sedge released a rumbling sigh. “I suggested the tribe go to Galbraith until we made sure all the Jinxioc were gone, but they refused.”

  “Well, Nanuk is here. What would they fear when you’ll protect them?” She didn’t mean for it to sound so sarcastic. In fact, the same frustration in his voice about the tribe refusing to leave was felt by her too. These people needed to get away from Kuci fast. But Sedge always put on such a show. They were likely blind to what might happen with him there.

  “I should be able to protect them.” Sedge snarled and stood. He paced the length of the room twice and then went to the door. “I need some air.”

  “Wait.” No, he wouldn’t want her to comfort him. What he needed was to do as he promised. She nodded. “Don’t wander far. We’ll rest and hunt again at first light.”

  Sedge grunted what she guessed was an affirmative reply and left the cabin. She sighed and ate more slowly. Why did things have to be so complicated with him? No, correct that. What he wanted was very simple. The complicated part was her.

  Fuck her life.

  Saskia set the remainder of the meat down and rolled to lie on her uninjured hip, facing the wall opposite of the door.

  The wall she’d set the whittled table and chairs. The chairs in which two little people now sat sharing the hunk of caribou she’d left for them.

  Round, brown cheeks were stuffed full of food, but they smiled at her. At eight to ten inches tall, they were smaller than Aluki’s doll and furrier. Or perhaps they wore fur clothes. Saskia wasn’t quite sure without touching them, and that she wouldn’t do. Bad luck came to those who did.

  This
household was blessed to have little people. Aluki hadn’t been making up stories. Saskia wondered what the family’s life had been like before the Jinxioc and before… Her chest constricted, her heart hurting worse than her hip. Before they lost a child.

  She remained silent as the little people ate. They swung their legs as they feasted, very much like children enjoying a special dessert. When they were done, the male—or the one Saskia thought to be male—hopped off his chair and waved to her, motioning her to… follow?

  Saskia stood and turned in the same direction they did. The little people scampered to the stove and slipped behind it. They had to understand she couldn’t truly follow them there.

  She heard them in the wall, and then there was quiet for a few seconds. The rustle of snow outside drew her to the window. And there they were. Waving at her again.

  Conjuring boots and a coat, she paused before going to the door. She hadn’t fully recovered yet. Her limp caused her body to drag and feel heavier than it should. She’d lost a lot of blood. More rest and food was required. She couldn’t not follow them, though. The little people were helpers. What they could be helping her with, she had no idea, but it would be idiotic not to go with them.

  Saskia opened the door and moved as quietly as she could, shutting the door behind her. She didn’t spy Sedge anywhere, but he likely went to wander outside the village.

  The little people bounced happily to see her come around the cabin. They hurried to a half-covered woodpile, running on top of the snow with feet long and wide like snowshoes. Did they want her to get more wood?

  Fifteen seconds later, they emerged from under the snow on the back of a fox. So shocked, Saskia stepped back and gaped. Could it be?

  She hadn’t thought to sniff out foxes around Kuci. What if the totem token was right there in the village? Yes, it made sense. The Jinxioc were attracted to Kuci, and maybe they weren’t a huge pack, but several packs. All of them acting strangely because of the totem.

  When the fox loped away with the little people, Saskia struggled to keep up with it. Its fur was nearly all white in preparation for the winter. An arctic fox was near impossible to spot with its cloak of snow, but there was no hiding its passengers.