True North (The Bears of Blackrock Book 4)

by Michaela Wright

  Sinead shook her head, setting her book down on the desk. “Well, I suppose I could head back your way now if you like.”

  Sinead stood up from the desk, keeping her coats tight around her. Theron stepped forward to help, pulling the massive hood up over her head. His hand grazed her cheek and she gasped.

  Theron froze there with his fingers just inches from her face. Before he could react, Sinead grabbed his hand and pressed the back of his knuckles to her cheek.

  “My god, you’re so warm,” she said, unable to hide the startled pleasure the sensation gave her.

  He stifled for an instant, then opened his palm to her cheek. “It’s the shifter blood. We’re all -”

  “I know,” she said, closing her eyes to sink into the sensation. Two years she’d been on the extension with shifters, but never once had any of them touched her like this. She’d held Buniq’s hand, as well as some of the other children’s, and even taken a seat after Thomas Holden had been sitting in it before her – she knew they ran hot. Still, Theron’s touch stirred so many longing notions. It wasn’t just the heat of his hand, but the gentleness of it – the tenderness. No one had touched her like that in years.

  She hadn’t wanted anyone to.

  Sinead held her breath, letting one thought in particular linger in her mind.

  What she wouldn’t give to sleep next to this man and know his warmth against the cold.

  Sinead startled, realizing she’d been relishing in the touch of his hand for a long moment.

  I guess it’s true what they say about the Arctic turning people mad, she thought.

  “You ready to head out, or would you rather just rub my hand on your face for a while longer?”

  Sinead closed her eyes. The snark of the comment startled her. He hadn’t taken that tone for days.

  Sinead opened her eyes and shook her head. “Sorry,” she said. “I almost forgot what a dick you could be.”

  Yet Theron didn’t take his hand away. He moved it along the length of her jaw, letting his fingers get lost in her hair. The heat of his touch sent shivers down the nape of her neck and along her spine. Good lord, he couldn’t possibly know what he did to her, could he?

  “If you make some asshole comment right now, I swear to god -”

  “Would it kill you to brush your hair now and again?”

  She stifled a laugh, unable to contain it. She shot him a feigned angry glare, only to find a smile on his face, and that smile was a thousand miles from feigned.

  It was happening again. The way it felt when he’d stared at her just a little too long. When he’d sat across from her in silence, simply watching her lost in her own thoughts. She’d never felt more vulnerable to a person’s gaze. Nor so safe in it.

  Being seen by Theron felt right. Being seen by Theron felt safe.

  Theron leaned toward her just as the schoolhouse shuddered under their feet. A second later, the lights overhead flickered to life, startling them apart. Sinead felt the cold of the air sink right bank into her skin, tearing away all memory of Theron’s warmth.

  Sinead sighed. “Thank goodness. I really wasn’t looking forward to putting Greg and Pamela out tonight.”

  Theron glanced back at the door, then turned back to watch her as Sinead collected her ratty copy of Pride and Prejudice and headed toward the back of the schoolhouse.

  “I’m sure it wouldn’t be putting them out,” he said, following her. His tone betrayed his own uncertainty on that front. Sure she’d taught Gregory and Pam’s sons, but that didn’t mean she felt comfortable sleeping on their couch. Sinead cracked the door to the small back room where she slept and stooped to the small space heater in the corner.

  A moment later, the coils were humming and turning orange. Her space would be warm soon enough.

  Warm, but not cozy.

  There was nothing to stop the drafts of that old, beaten building. Nothing at all.

  “Is this where you sleep?”

  Sinead startled at the tone. It sounded almost accusatory. She turned on him. “Yes? Do you have something against -?”

  “Why aren’t you in one of the houses?”

  Sinead shook her head. “What do you mean? The houses were for families. I don’t have -”

  “You should be in a house.”

  Sinead shook her head. Theron was a stranger there, and a stranger to the Holdens despite being their blood. He’d grown up in a different world, even if it was another reservation. His arrival and immediately judgment of how things were would have been seen as an insult to anyone who heard him. Still, she appreciated his sudden surge of loyalty and displeasure on her behalf.

  “They weren’t expecting me?” She said, trying to give her words a jovial tone. “And I didn’t want to – I didn’t feel comfortable taking space from the families, here.”

  There were barely enough homes on the Extension for the Holden families, and though they’d grown to welcome her over the years, the tension that existed on the Extension left everyone on edge.

  An on edge shifter wasn’t exactly the most comforting house guest.

  Sinead turned toward her small bunk – a twin size bed against the far wall, a pile of quilts and blankets atop it, and a tiny bedside table with a solar lamp. She didn’t have many clothes, nor many possessions, so the space was more than appropriate.

  The smaller the space, the easier to heat – in theory.

  That didn’t stop her nearly getting frostbite the winter before when one of the sideboards on the outside came loose during a wind storm, leaving her exposed to arctic wind while trying to sleep beneath a mountain of blankets.

  “Will that heater keep you warm enough?”

  Sinead startled, turning to meet Theron’s concerned gaze. “Yes. It should be fine. It’s only October.”

  “And in a month or two?”

  Sinead didn’t speak. She’d toughed it out the previous winter; she’d managed. She could do it again.

  Her heart ached for a moment, remembering the loneliness of being the only one on the Extension to know cold. None of the Holden families could relate. They did their best, letting her sleep on their couches or floors when it got really bad, but shifters seemed oblivious to it, even as their breath was forming clouds before them.

  And nevermind the act of trekking from one part of the Extension to the other. Sinead spent several mornings in school, unable to grip her writing stones, her fingers were so numb.

  “Will you sleep here tonight, then?” Theron asked. Sinead turned to look at him, then quickly turned her eyes away. His size was suddenly overwhelming in the small space. Theron wasn’t a giant, by any means, but he was taller than many on the Extension, and his chest and shoulders were broad. He filled the space like exactly what he was – a bear.

  Good lord, she thought. Not once had a man turned her eye like this. Not once.

  Now, she was interred on a god damn camp, and it was this moment in her life when she suddenly found herself swooning over some guy?

  She couldn’t keep her thoughts on anything else.

  “Of course, I sleep here every night.”

  “But it’s freezing,” he said, pressing his knuckles against the back wall of the building, exactly where the draft of the loose side board had frozen her toes once the year before.

  “I have the heater. I’ll be fine.”

  Theron frowned, then turned back toward the classroom,

  He snatched up the copy of Pride and Prejudice and kicked his boots up onto her desk as though he planned to settle in for the evening.

  “What are you doing?” She asked.

  Theron shrugged. “Nothing, why? You want to kick me out?”

  Sinead swallowed, pulling the coats a little tighter around her jawline. She shook her head. “Honestly, no. You make the room feel a little warmer.”

  He nodded, turning back to the book. “Glad to know I’m good for something.”

  Sinead sat down with him, watching him read for a long moment. When the d
oor to the schoolhouse opened, she barely turned toward the sound.

  The footsteps rushing across the room let her know exactly who was coming in. Sinead knew the gait of every single one of her kids. She lifted her arm up in wait, and Buniq did exactly as Sinead expected, coming up under her arm for a side hug.

  “Hot for teacher, there, cuz?”

  Theron’s eyes went wide with a glare, and he rose from his seat to greet Darrell. Sinead pulled Buniq into her for a longer hug, and something about the little girl’s posture worried her. Buniq was such a light, mischievous child, but now she curled like a frightened rabbit – suited utterly to her name.

  Sinead held the lithe shape of her, whispering softly. “What’s wrong, sweetheart? You’re alright.”

  Darrell and Theron conferred by the blackboard. Sinead could only hear so much of their conversation.

  They fixed the fence.

  The wires were still there.

  Buniq’s not doing well.

  Their voices dropped to a hush for a moment, then Darrell disappeared into the back closet, and Theron came across the room toward her. He crouched down beside Buniq, offering up a half of granola bar. Buniq’s eyes blazed, but only for an instant. She took the gift with a quiet, ‘Thank you.’

  “Do you think you might play something, Miss Dalton?”

  Sinead turned toward Darrell’s voice, startled. He was standing outside the closet holding her acoustic guitar and frowned. She hadn’t played in months, it was surely out of tune.

  Buniq climbed from her lap to sit with Theron, and Sinead averted her eyes from their intimate exchange. Despite wanting to offer them privacy, she could hear the first few words of their conversation.

  “You know, I lost my older sister a few years ago, too.”

  Buniq’s voice cracked as she said the words, “You did?”

  Sinead felt put on the spot by Darrell’s request, but she instantly understood why. Buniq had watched her brother, Eddie, die two years before. Then within a matter of days, she almost watched her cousin meet the same fate at her eldest brother’s own hand, and in the wake of that, had that same brother - the only direct family she still had – nearly die the same way. Buniq had every right to be fragile.

  And Darrell had every right to ask Sinead to play. She could make sound. She could fill the room with something subtle and soothing, and let Buniq talk.

  Sinead sat down in one of the chairs and fiddled with the strings of her guitar, making sure it was holding the best tune it could. Then, as Darrell pulled a couple cans of soup from his bag to make them something for supper, Sinead began to play.

  The smell of cooking tomato soup filled the air as Sinead plucked the strings softly. Buniq and Theron sat together talking, their voices quiet enough that Sinead could lose herself in the sound of the guitar. She played everything that came to mind – Beethoven, The Beatles, Gordon Lightfoot, The Tragically Hip. It didn’t matter what she played, as long as it could be made soft, like the background music in a movie you just knew would have a happy ending.

  When Darrell came to fetch Buniq for supper, Sinead glanced up from her strings, still playing softly.

  Theron was watching her, again.

  She managed not to lose her rhythm and finished her song, all the while knowing Theron’s eyes were trained on her.

  He gave a soft clap when she finally stopped. Sinead’s cheeks burned as she set the guitar aside.

  The four of them settled around the desk to eat supper, and Buniq’s mood was altered. She was still quiet, but she was talking. She wasn’t curling into the arms of those nearest to her as though she wished to shield herself from the world.

  Once supper was done, Darrell and Buniq gathered their things to head out, Theron rising to join them.

  “Alright, you three have a good night. Thank you for coming to visit with -”

  “Oh no, you’re coming.”

  Theron gave her a stern look. The authority of it immediately triggered Sinead’s rebellious side. No one told her what to do.

  “I’m fine, right here,” she said.

  Darrell chuckled. “Good luck, pal. I’m gonna leave you two to your lover’s quarrel.”

  Theron marched toward her as the school door closed behind Darrell and Buniq. “You can’t be seriously planning to sleep here alone.”

  She furrowed her brow. “I’ve done it almost every night for two years, thank you very much.”

  “Yeah, I’m not having it.”

  “Well, it isn’t your decision, now is it?” Sinead said, letting her volume rise.

  The windows were all dark now, and the little amount of light the generators offered was taking on an almost candlelight effect from overhead.

  Theron crossed his arms. “You’re going to freeze out here alone.”

  She laughed. “I’ll manage.”

  They stood there staring each other down for a long moment. Theron ran his hand over his jaw. Then, he nodded and marched back toward her small bedroom.

  Sinead followed. “What are you doing?”

  Theron gave a stern head shake and was suddenly unbuttoning his shirt, showing a white tank beneath. Sinead yelped at the sight of his chest coming into view. She’d seen him before, bandaged him up, but seeing him undress like that – and in her bedroom?

  She cringed, turning her eyes away to pretend she hadn’t just shrieked like an excited Beatles fan at Wembley Stadium.

  Theron laughed. “I’m not going to hurt you, don’t worry.”

  “No, I know.”

  “Come on,” he said, shutting the bedroom door so the heat could build in the small space. Theron was kicking off his boots then. A moment later, he was pulling back the blankets on the bed and climbing in. Sinead stood there with her mouth hanging open, frozen in shock.

  Was this man literally just demanding a place in her bed?

  And was it actually going to work?

  “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” She repeated, but her tone wavered. She wanted to let him win. She’d fantasized about just this thing – about lying beside this man in the cold of night and pressing her frozen feet to him for warmth.

  “I’m not leaving without you, so if you’re sleeping here, so am I.”

  “You can’t just climb in a woman’s bed, Theron!”

  “I just did. You can always march out that door and come sleep on my grandmother’s couch.”

  “Not going to happen!”

  “Then it’s settled,” he said, slumping back onto her single pillow, his bare arms tucked up under his dark head. He looked beautiful, his tan skin brown and glowing beneath the white tank top. And she couldn’t deny it, even as the wind howled alone the cracks in the wall, her tiny room was beginning to feel something she thought impossible – cozy.

  She shook her head, searching for the willpower to refuse him, but the thought of climbing under those blankets with him, of feeling his warmth and letting it keep her through the night – nothing had felt so inviting since the Extension gates closed.

  Sinead watched Theron lie back against her pillow, his arms crossed behind his head. He shot her a half smile and glanced his eyes toward the bed beside him.

  When she didn’t move, Theron’s eyebrows shot up. “We could easily solve this by you coming home with me. There’s a nice couch and a few more blankets.”

  She glared at Theron with new tenacity. He was bluffing her.

  “Theron! You can’t just climb into a woman’s bed like this!”

  Theron wriggled under the covers, making a point to show just how ‘comfy’ he was getting. “I believe I just did. Why don’t you go grab your guitar? Play me a lullaby while I fall asleep.”

  “You asshole! Fine. You want to play it that way?”

  She threw the coats onto the bed, feeling the frigid air move beneath the fabric of her sleeves. She instantly regretted her dramatic flair, but as she slumped down onto the small bed beside Theron, all memory of the coats’ warmth evaporated.

&nb
sp; Theron wasn’t just warm, he was smoldering. Theron was solid and smooth and pulsing with heat. He felt like a furnace against which she could warm every inch of herself. She imagined what trouble he would be in the Summer months in Halifax, then scolded herself silently for thinking of him that way.

  She wasn’t exactly in a position to take him home to meet Mom and Dad.

  Sinead shimmied down under the covers and tussled around, trying to find a comfortable position in the small bed. Theron’s torso was huge compared to hers and he was clearly trying to take up as much space as possible. She’d either have to spoon him, or lie on her side with her back to him. Either way, they’d be pressed together.

  Finally, she chose the most innocent position and settled on the very edge of the bed her face toward the room as she tried to keep herself from touching him.

  They lay there for a long, almost awkwardly silent moment.

  She exhaled out her nose. “You’re such asshole -”

  With a frustrated huff, Theron rolled onto his side behind her and as she yelped against the sudden touch, wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her back against him.

  She melted on the spot, breathless and unable to protest.

  She should, she thought. But she couldn’t. Nothing on earth could make her protest this warmth. Or the closeness of him.

  She lay there for a long moment, holding her breath, feeling the rhythm of his breathing calm against her. Then she exhaled, and all the tension in her muscles, tension from shivering for two full years, flowed through the mattress beneath her, disappearing into the worn floorboards below.

  ***

  Sinead opened her eyes and for an instant, forgot where she was. This wasn’t the first time she’d woken up with the notion that the last two years were some awful nightmare, but this was the first morning that she could identify why.

  Theron lay beside her, his back pressed to the drafty wall, his arm still draped across her hip. He’d curled around her during the night – or perhaps she’d shimmied back into him, but either way, every inch of him was pressed to her, and his face was buried in her hair. Sinead shifted slightly to give him room to breathe. He responded with a groan, his arm wrapping around her again like a python, pulling her back against him.