by Roxie Noir
Not that Leah had ever been any further south.
Ian got out of the car, and Leah and Emily followed suit.
“Go on inside,” Ian said to Emily. “I’d like to have a word with my future wife.”
Emily nodded once, her big eyes looking over at Leah, who nodded at her.
As she watched her sister go back in the house, Leah felt a twinge of something like fear. Ian was on the small side for a shifter, but that meant he was still six-foot-three, easily, and Leah was nervous about that. She got a strange energy off of him.
Something about him made her nervous, as much as she didn’t like to admit that to herself about her future husband, but she pushed the feeling away and turned to face him.
She even managed to plaster a smile on her face, even though Ian was glowering and serious.
“I won’t have you embarrassing me in public like that,” he said. His voice was low and threatening, and despite herself, Leah shrank away, suddenly afraid that he might get physically violent.
“What do you mean?” she said, trying desperately to play the part of the innocent country girl.
“Letting that man stand up for you like that,” he said. “Throwing yourself at him like you’re some kind of harlot, practically spreading your legs right there at the dinner table and giving him a good, long sniff.”
Leah’s mouth dropped open in shock and rage, and she could feel the heat rush to her face.
“I was not—”
“Let me make myself perfectly clear,” he said, simply talking over her like she didn’t matter. “I will not have that. My wife is to be above reproach. When you speak to other men, you do it demurely. If I say you’ll have a salad, you’ll have a salad. You could stand to lose a couple of pounds.”
Tears of rage sprang to Leah’s eyes, and she turned her head away from Ian.
He put one strong hand on her jaw, grasping it and forcing her to look at him again.
“I am the man of our household,” he told her, his face a hideous snarl. “And you’re to be by my side at all times, not off making a spectacle of yourself. Is that understood?”
Don’t you dare cry, Leah thought to herself, tears wobbling dangerously under her eyelids. Don’t give him that satisfaction.
She nodded once, his fingers still clamped around her jaw.
“Very good,” he said, letting her go and turning toward his car. “I’ll pick you up for the clan barbecue tomorrow at six.”
Leah barely dared to move or breathe for fear that she might do something terrible.
He’s your husband, she told herself, over and over again. He’s your husband and your soulmate and you’re going to learn to love him.
When he had driven down their long driveway and Leah felt like she might have herself under control again at last, she carefully took a deep breath and turned toward the house.
Quickly, the curtains in the living room moved back across the window, but not quite quickly enough.
Her father had just watched the whole thing. Leah steeled herself to walk through the front door, but when she got inside, he was gone.
I’m alone here, she thought to herself, the thought coming as a shock.
My father won’t do anything to defend me. I’m Ian’s now.
She was almost in a daze as she mounted the stairs to her room, telling her sister something about how she was tired from her long day.
Leah didn’t leave her room again that night. She tried to read a book, but kept reading the same paragraph over and over, totally unable to concentrate.
Nathan was coming at midnight.
She didn’t even know what the punishment would be if she was caught sneaking out to see him. It would be bad, that was for sure. Whitehorse women weren’t allowed, under any circumstances, to be alone with adult men who they weren’t related to. Leah had never done that before, but she knew of one or two girls who had. Both had basically been shunned and considered unmarriageable afterwards, forced to either leave everything and everyone they knew to start a new life, or be spinsters.
Leah didn’t want that. She wanted to be married to her soulmate. She wanted kids, a family life.
She just didn’t think that she wanted it with Ian, but that was her only real option. It was Ian or nothing, and she knew it. At thirty-two, there weren’t many people who’d be willing to marry her. They all wanted younger brides, brides who could bear six or eight cubs still.
And yet, Nathan would be there at midnight.
If she got caught, she knew she’d never see him again. It was that simple.
She looked over at a round clock on the wall in the corner of the tiny attic room.
11:55.
Time to decide.
Leah paced back and forth, trying to be as quiet as possible. Emily was sleeping in the room right below, and she didn’t want to wake her little sister.
She knew what she should do. She should turn out the light and get in bed and not even lift the curtain. That way she’d never know whether Nathan was really out there, or what she’d missed. She should behave herself properly, marry Ian, follow his rules, and make herself learn to love him in time.
That was the reasonable, safe plan.
It wasn’t what she wanted though, not even a little.
11:59.
She stood at the window, behind the curtain, her hands shaking.
If anyone catches you, it’s over, she told herself. You’ll be gone so fast that there won’t be anything anyone can do.
But then she thought about the way he looked at her, the way she felt magnetized around him. The way his eyes lit up when he talked about the stars at the Pinnacles.
Leah opened the curtain just a crack, peeking out. She was terrified that he wouldn’t be there, that she’d betrayed her family and her fiancé for nothing.
For a moment she didn’t see anything.
Then, her eyes adjusting to the dark, she saw someone down below wearing a black leather jacket and waving.
Leah’s face broke into a huge grin and she clapped a hand over her mouth to keep herself from laughing
Come down, he mouthed, still waving at her from the ground.
What’s done is done, Leah thought. She felt free and almost giddy, and she grabbed shoes and a jacket, then padded down the stairs and out the back door as quietly as she could.
The grass was cold and wet under her feet, but nothing had ever felt better or freer.
This is stupid, part of her brain thought as she broke into a run toward Nathan.
I don’t care, the rest of her answered.
Chapter Fifteen
Nathan
The time between Leah’s face appearing in the window and her coming through the back door was the longest thirty seconds of Nathan’s life, he thought. Even after that smile, he wasn’t totally sure she’d come down — maybe it was a goodbye smile.
Maybe her father would catch her sneaking out. His heart squeezed in his chest.
But then she came out, carefully shutting the screen door behind her as quietly as she could, and she walked and then ran across the field toward him.
Moments later she was in his arms as he scooped her up and spun her around, finally touching her, an electric thrill singing through every nerve. She laughed as he did, her bright red hair flying out behind her.
“Shh,” he said as he put her back on her feet, leaning down toward her.
“We’re far enough away,” she whispered.
Nathan didn’t respond, but he cupped her face gently with one hand, the other still at her waist, and ran the pad of his thumb over her full bottom lip. It was perfectly soft and yielding, and the way she looked at him made his breathing go ragged.
“Now can I kiss you?” he asked.
“Yes,” she whispered.
Nathan bent down and touched his lips to hers, just barely, half afraid of himself. His bear was roaring, wild to rip her dress off and make her his right there, in the wet grass, and damn the consequences, but h
e resisted.
Leah’s lips were soft and lush and at first Nathan barely brushed them with his own, not wanting to hurt her or rush things. She was perfectly firm, but yielding at the same time, a combination of soft and hard that made him wild inside.
But then she pressed herself up against him, taking him by surprise with her urgency. One of her hands found its way to the side of his torso and he swept his tongue along her lower lip, almost as if he was asking her permission.
Beneath him, her lips parted, her hand tightening on the side of his body, and he nearly lost control. He pushed his tongue into her mouth, finding hers, just barely touching it with the tip of his and then, to his surprise, she pushed her tongue past him, moving her mouth hard against him, tangling them together in the sweetest embrace he’d ever felt.
Nathan thought that he could have stayed there, kissing Leah, for eternity, but at last she pulled away, breathing hard, her chest heaving, still looking up at Nathan.
“I’ve never kissed anyone before,” she said, a smile playing around her lips.
His hand was still on her chin. He felt like he couldn’t stop touching her.
“It felt like my first time,” he said.
Someday, you’ll have to tell her, a small, mean part of his brain thought. Not just about the other women. About everything.
He shrugged it off.
“Can I take you to the Pinnacles?” he asked.
She held something up in one hand: shoes.
“I didn’t want to make noise sneaking out,” she said softly, her voice musical in the night.
“You’ve sneaked out before?” he asked,
Leah shook her head and bent down, slipping sneakers onto her bare feet.
“Never?”
“Never,” she said.
Then she looked at him, a little oddly, and took his big, hard hand in her small, soft one.
“There’s a lot I haven’t done before,” she said. He could hear something odd in her voice, a mixture of fear and longing, that made Nathan’s heart skip a couple of beats.
Quietly, they walked for the road, going completely silent as they passed below the windows of the farmhouse where Leah’s family slept.
He helped her through the undergrowth and to the road. Leah only looked back over her shoulder at the farmhouse once, and Nathan admired her for that.
The consequences were much greater for her than for him, he knew, and yet here she was, defying her father and Ian and years and years of tradition, just to go look at the stars with some stranger.
We’re not strangers, a voice whispered, deep inside Nathan. We’re anything but.
It was incredible, the way she made him feel. Like his past didn’t exist, like he’d never touched another woman before. He felt brand new, all the bad parts of him erased.
“Tell me more about these rocks,” she said. They were still holding hands, walking close together, and her fingers tangled with his, her face looking up at him.
For a moment he was struck by her, by how utterly perfect she was.
His bear roared again, wanting to lower her to the asphalt right now.
He shrugged.
“They’re a couple of rock spires on a hill not far from here,” he said. “In the middle is a big flat rock, and you can lie on it and look up and see all the stars, these crazy spires all around you.”
“Sounds beautiful,” she said.
“It is.”
They walked in silence for a moment, Nathan’s whole body humming.
“I think I’ll like Fjords,” she said, swinging their arms back and forth. “It reminds me a lot of home.”
“Of Yukon City?”
Leah nodded, her hair bouncing in the dark.
“Yukon City isn’t on the ocean, but it’s got a similar feel. It’s freezing cold eight months of every year, and everything is flat and evergreen the same way.”
Another pause, and their hands swung back and forth. Up ahead, Nathan could see the bush where he’d hidden the motorcycle.
“It’s on the Yukon River, and a lot of people stopped there during the gold rush, so we’ve got that in common,” she went on. “It still sort of feels like the wild west, honestly.”
They reached the motorcycle, and Leah’s eyebrows went up.
“You brought the bike,” she said.
“You asked about it.”
She ran one hand along the seat, and Nathan could have sworn she was savoring the touch of the hard leather.
“Be careful with me,” she said.
She looked up at him and bit her lip, but Nathan could see the sheer delight in her eyes.
“Of course,” he said. “I even brought you a helmet.”
“You didn’t know that I’d come out,” she said, tugging his hand and pulling him against herself.
“I knew,” he said, and realized that it had been true all along.
They kissed again, long and slow, Nathan biting her bottom lip softly and Leah making a little noise in response.
Control yourself, he thought, even as he squeezed her waist, kissing her even harder.
Chapter Sixteen
Leah
Leah had never experienced anything like being on a motorcycle before. It was terrifying and exhilarating, all at once. The closest she’d ever come had been the time that her cousin gave her a ride in the back of a pickup truck once, when she was a kid, only for both of them to get chewed out by her father not long after.
She laughed until her ribs hurt out of nothing but exuberance, watching the dark scenery fly by. Nathan took the back roads, careful not to let anyone see them together.
Finally, he pulled into a small turnout from the main road and pulled his helmet off. He helped Leah with hers, kissing her as he did, like he simply couldn’t help himself.
Leah felt almost delirious with the double thrill of happiness and anxiety, knowing she was doing exactly what she wanted to be doing, and also understanding the consequences of it. Even so, she felt lighter and better, just being there with Nathan.
He took her by the hand and led her down a path, crowded with bushes and trees, holding back the branches for her as she walked behind him, letting him lead the way.
A few minutes later, she could see the Pinnacles, just as promised: big spears of granite, sticking up toward the sky.
“Is that them?” she asked, excitedly.
“Yep,” said Nathan, tugging at her hand. He was so excited, he almost seemed like a kid, and she could tell that he wasn’t like this, normally. When the people of Fjords talked about Nathan Kamchatka, they tended to lower their voices and hunch their shoulders, like they didn’t want to be heard, but Leah didn’t know why.
They obviously hadn’t seen the real Nathan, the sweet, sexy guy who brought an extra helmet and wanted to show her the stars.
Finally, they broke through the trees and into a clearing where there was a big, flat rock surrounded by the Pinnacles themselves, big gray rocks pointing at heaven.
“This is incredible,” Leah breathed, her neck craned up.
“Come into the middle,” Nathan said, still leading her. Now he was behind her, his hands on her waist over her simple, almost-frumpy dress.
She looked up.
“There it is,” she said, pointing at the Milky Way. “You really can see it.”
“You can’t in Yukon City?” he asked.
“Not as well,” Leah said. “I guess I never really look, to be honest.”
He wrapped his arms around her from behind, and Leah felt herself relax into his embrace, almost like she’d done it a thousand times before.
It just felt so familiar and right. Even though she knew that what she was doing was wrong, it didn’t feel wrong.
It felt exactly right.
“Do they tell the legend of the North Star in Yukon City?” he asked.
Leah could feel the rumble of his voice through his chest, against the back of her neck. She’d never felt so warm or so safe in her life.
/> “I don’t think so,” she said.
“Do you want to hear it?” he asked.
“If you’re telling it.”
“Once upon a time,” Nathan said, “there were two bears, mates, and they lived on the island off the eastern coast of Siberia, north of Japan.”
His hand found hers, still holding her tight, and he stroked the back of her hand with his thumb.
“They were together every day, all day, hunting and fishing, and they were so in love that the sea got jealous of them, so jealous that she couldn’t stand it.”
Leah had never heard this particular story before, but it had the elements she was familiar with: the distant past where shifters had just been bears, the forces of nature with human feelings.
“Was the sea in love with the male bear?”
“Maybe,” Nathan said. Leah could hear the smile in his voice. “But whatever the reason, maybe because the sea was in love with him or because there is only one sea and she’ll be lonely forever, the sea stole his mate away from him.”
Leah went silent, holding her breath.
“Even though he swam and swam after her, the sea was greater and it took her away from him. After hours, he swam back to shore, wet and bedraggled and heartbroken. When he was back, he tore down the trees on the shore, he tore the forests away from the mountains and he was so angry that his anger infected the earth, made it spew forth lava until the beautiful place they’d lived was ugly and scarred with fire.”
Leah turned her cheek to nestle again Nathan’s hard chest, the better to feel his voice.
“So he lived on worms and berries and fish, too heartbroken to care that he’d destroyed everything they loved, until one day a raven came to him and said that he knew where the bear’s mate was.”
“Where?”
“I’m getting there. The raven wanted to make a deal, though. The raven had always been afraid of bears, and he wanted the bear to give up some of his power. So the raven said that he’d tell the bear where his mate was if he agreed to spend some of his time utterly defenseless, without claws or teeth or fur.”
Nathan pulled Leah even closer. She felt like they were breathing as one.
