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Enslaved by the Alpha: Part Two Page 2
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Sabine arched a silver brow. “Long pig?”
Astrid hesitated before swallowing, the meat going down her throat like a hunk of lead. “I mean, it didn’t have a name, did it?”
For what felt like the thousandth time, she thought back to the night the wolves had attacked the campsite. The wolves hadn’t seemed to have many scruples about eating human meat then.
Sabine waved a dismissive hand. “No, no, that’s caribou.”
“Oh,” Astrid said with a sigh of relief.
She was about to take another bite, when Sabine added, “I don’t believe caribou shifters even have names. Honestly they all look alike, what would be the point?”
“S-shifters?” Astrid sputtered, looking down at her bowl.
Sabine chuckled and winked at Astrid. “It was a joke.”
Astrid gave a self-effacing laugh, though it sounded hollow even to her own ears. She was grateful for Sabine’s sense of humor, but as she’d conjured the memories of the wolf attack, her mood had taken a turn for the worse.
She was beginning to recognize that that night had left a mark on her. Not only had it been utterly horrifying, but it had also taken something from her. For as long as she lived, she would probably never feel completely confident in herself again. And no matter what happened, whether she lived out her life bound to Erik, or if she was home in a month, alone in her Miami apartment, the images of carnage would be waiting for her when she closed her eyes.
Sabine seemed to appreciate that Astrid needed time to think. After she set her empty bowl aside, the wolf shifter remained silent while Astrid idly pushed the root veggies around in the broth. When she was finished, Astrid drew her legs up to rest her head on her chin. She stared across the main room, eyes unfocused.
“Halley has taken a liking to your dog,” Sabine said, gently nudging Astrid back into conversing. “It is good for her to have a pet.”
Astrid smiled. Halley and Noona had been racing each other around the room for a while, a blur of brown and white. She’d never seen any two creatures have so much fun just running.
“Is Halley the only pup here?” Astrid asked.
Sabine nodded. “There was another little one, but she died last winter.”
“That’s awful,” Astrid said, hugging her legs. “What happened?”
“She was sickly,” Sabine said with a shrug. “It was for the best.”
Astrid had a hard time wrapping her head around that mentality, but she didn’t press the issue.
“Was she Sten’s child as well?”
“Yes and no. She was from a weak pack. After it lost its alpha, the pack was picked apart by hunters. She survived, somehow—it is rare for the little ones. They’re usually the first to go.”
As she spoke, Astrid was struck by her nonchalant attitude. On reflex, she felt appalled by the matter-of-fact way that Sabine spoke about the murder of children. But she was beginning to recognize this for what it was: a defense mechanism. With all of the hardship and death that the shifters faced, sorrow seemed like a luxury they couldn’t afford.
“We do not usually take in the young, old, or feeble,” Sabine went on to say. “But Sten claimed her, agreeing to take responsibility for her care. Erik did not contest, as it was obvious that she was not long for this world.”
“I can’t imagine how lonely Halley must have been,” Astrid said somberly.
Ginnifer had been born two years after Astrid. When they were kids they had fought constantly, and Astrid had often wished that her parents had let her remain an only child. Thinking back now, there had been some good times, and although Ginnifer was notoriously flighty, when she was there, she was an amazing listener.
I wish you were here now.
“I imagine Halley will have plenty of pups to play with, now that Erik has taken you as his mate.”
Astrid cocked her head towards Sabine. “Huh?”
“That mark,” Sabine said, eyes on Astrid’s neck. “There was a time, before our animal bloodlines were diluted, that a male would bite the neck of a female he meant to have bear his pups. These days, it is more of a warning to other males that you are taken, but the sentiment is still there.”
Astrid ran her fingers across her neck, lightly grazing the indents where Erik’s canines had pierced her flesh.
“It wasn’t like that.”
Her voice grew distant as she thought back to when Erik had bitten her. It was right as he’d had his first climax. A guttural roar had been her only warning before his teeth had sunken into her neck. At first, she’d thought he was going to kill her. Then, she hadn’t thought anything at all, as her own orgasm had ripped through her body just seconds later.
“At least, I don’t think it was,” she said quietly. “In any case, if he does want a mate, he picked the wrong human. I can’t have kids.”
It was the first time she’d said that without her insides twisting. It was actually quite a relief, as she couldn’t imagine having a child out here, let alone Erik’s child.
Sabine’s back straightened and she seemed to perk up. “What makes you say that?”
“That I can’t have kids? My husband and I tried for a long time.”
Her brows rose. “You’re married?”
“Ex-husband,” Astrid corrected.
They’d been divorced for over a year, but she still had to remind herself of it. Neil had been such a constant in her life. Before their relationship had devolved into a union of resentment, they had been very much in love.
“How do you know it was not your husband’s fault?”
“We went to clinics and had tests run,” Astrid said. It felt odd to explain three grueling, heart wrenching months in a single sentence. “Neil was fine, it was me. There were a few things we could try, but they were very expensive and by then our relationship was too far gone. I think we’d already said too many things we couldn’t take back.”
Sabine reached over to pat her on the shoulder. She didn’t strike Astrid as the touch-feely type, yet the gesture felt natural and comforting.
“I understand,” Sabine said. “I have never felt much inclination to breed, but I sometimes wonder if I am merely suppressing the desire to spare myself pain. I can hardly imagine how it would feel to hold out hope for such a thing, only to be met with disappointment time and again.”
Astrid was speechless. Over the past year, she’d made it a habit of not discussing her infertility, as people didn’t know how to handle it. Most of them would try to offer words of encouragement, telling her about some second cousin who was told she couldn’t have kids and then the following month—bam! She was pregnant. Even worse were the ones who tried to give her advice. She still remembered biting her tongue during Thanksgiving dinner, when her mother had told her that all she needed to do to get pregnant was relax.
She realized that if there was one good thing about living amongst shifters, it was that there would be no shortage of women that would empathize with her struggle.
The sincerity of Sabine’s words had a powerful effect on Astrid. Unable to come up with a response that was comparably eloquent, she simply said, “Thank you.”
CHAPTER THREE
“They passed through a few hours ago.”
Erik stood beside his brother, both of them staring down at the tracks that marred the valley of snow. Enough of their scent lingered that Erik was able to discern the bears as shifters. It wasn’t uncommon for shifters of all types to pass through Amarok territory, but it was usually along this fringes. These tracks were only twenty kilometers from the den, which meant that they were either bold or desperate.
It was hard for Erik to say which. More so than any other species, the white bear shifters had been poached to near-extinction. It was his understanding that their furs were considered exotic and were highly valued.
The bears had also been the most susceptible to poaching, as they had formerly lived in family units of two to four adults and cubs. The humans had picked them off group by grou
p, until the only bears that remained were the ones smart enough to form large packs. In sizeable numbers and with a secure den, bears were even more formidable than wolves.
“Why didn’t you come and get me?” Erik asked.
“I tried to, but you wouldn’t budge,” Sten explained. “They had already passed through by the time I arrived back at the den, so I figured it wasn’t worth waking either of you.”
After the invigorating run to meet up with Sten, Erik had succeeded in putting the human out of his mind. Now, he was reminded not only of her, but also of the possessiveness that had overtaken him earlier. It returned, making his muscles tense at the thought of Sten peering into the room where he had been incapacitated on top of the human. Had Sten even tried waking him, or had he instead stood in the doorway, gazing at her naked body.
Sten asked, “By the way, do you still plan on giving her to me when you’re done?”
His brother was not prone to insolence, but he did derive an inordinate amount of amusement from needling Erik whenever he could. Despite this, it had been years since Erik had truly lost his temper with Sten, and he would not start tonight.
Even if Erik’s wolf did want to throttle him.
“She’s a novelty,” Erik said, once more falling back on logic. “I won’t deny that she is…somewhat affecting me. But it is because she is new and different than other females I have been with.”
From where he was now, Erik had a difficult time imagining that he would ever be entirely through with her. But past experience had taught him otherwise. Eventually, he would learn every dip and swell of her body, he would recognize each sound that she made, and he would know the way she was going to move before even she did. Inevitably, she would become familiar to him, and then, he would grow bored. All he could do was enjoy her until that time came.
“I will lose interest,” Erik said, both to Sten and to himself. “And when I do, you can have her.”
Sten wet his lips. “You’re serious, aren’t you?”
Erik looked back down at the bear tracks. “Even if I wanted a mate, I would never take one. The day I prioritize one life above what is best for the pack is the day Amarok goes the way of all the other failed packs.”
“So you martyr yourself for the good of the many?”
Erik snorted. “Hardly. I said if I wanted a mate. I don’t and I won’t.” He pointed towards the south. “Send two scouts to trace the origin of this trail. I want to know why these bears are migrating and if there will be more.”
If the humans were pushing farther north, this bear tribe would be the first of many. These ones had had the sense not to settle near a wolf’s den, but a larger group might try to contest the territory. They would need to be prepared.
“I’ll go with Sylvestre.”
Erik turned eastward, to where the tracks faded into the distance. “No. I have another task for you.”
***
“I can’t thank you enough,” Astrid said. “I don’t really need my clothes back, but there’s no way I can handle having only one pair of panties.”
Sabine walked ahead of Astrid, holding up a lantern to light their way. They were deep within the den’s network of tunnels, far from any source of natural light. The ground beneath their feet was slick with ice. Astrid kept her eyes on the ground, trying to step exactly where Sabine did, as the wolf shifter walked with practiced ease.
“There is no need to thank me,” Sabine said. “I am enjoying your company.”
“I find that hard to believe. I’m the most uninteresting person I know. I get bored inside my own head sometimes.”
Sabine flashed Astrid a grin over her shoulder. “Ah, but you are not the most boring person I know. Most of the wolves in this pack have never been outside Nunavut and know very little about civilization. They tell the same tired stories and trade old gossip. You are the most interesting thing that has happened here in months, perhaps longer. It is not every day we meet a human that we don’t have to kill.”
“I guess that makes sense…”
Astrid’s legs were aching by the time they reached their destination. As they stopped outside the makeshift door of strung pelts, she was already dreading the trip back.
“Is this where my bags are?”
After breakfast, she had asked Sabine for help finding her belongings. She’d figured it would be a futile effort, as the wolves had long since divided up the bags they’d taken from her tent. But Sabine had asked around and had gotten a promising lead.
Astrid moved to enter, but Sabine held out an arm to bar the way. In a low voice, she said, “When we enter, you let me do the talking. This one is…” she waved her hand back and forth, “n’importe quoi.”
“Uh, what?”
Sabine had already pulled back the pelts and stepped into the room. Astrid followed her, surprised to find that the room was not only well-lit, but furnished. There were at least six shelving units, three tables, an upholstered chair, and what appeared to be a vanity. The floor space between them was partially covered by an embroidered red rug.
It was the first room Astrid had seen that really felt lived-in. Knick-knacks and framed photos lined the shelves. There were candles burning on the tables and the vanity was littered with makeup. In the back of the room was a circular bed that was piled high with pillows and silks of various colors.
A woman lay sprawled across the bed. She wore a long, peacock-pattered robe and her thick platinum hair was gathered on top of her head in a loose bun. She held an open magazine in one hand, though her gaze flicked between Astrid and Sabine, regarding them with a finely arched brow.
“Fifi said she saw you with her bag,” Sabine said, motioning to Astrid. “It’s a green duffle bag with white stripes. Sound familiar?”
The female’s eyes drew a lazy path back to the magazine. “The bags belong to the pack.”
Unlike Erik and Sabine, she didn’t speak with an accent. She spoke in a soft, singsong voice that, like the rest of her, was quite pretty.
“Astrid is part of the pack now, Ila.”
Ila shrugged. “I don’t have whatever it is so you can go now.”
Astrid narrowed her eyes in scrutiny. “That’s my magazine.”
“Is not,” she said, not bothering to look up.
Astrid took a step forward. “Yes, it is.”
“Is not.”
Really?
She heard Sabine mutter an expletive under her breath.
Putting her hands on her hips, Astrid said, “Trend, September 2015, Issue 467.” She pointed at the cover. “That’s Nadya Kozlov. She’s wearing a mint green and buttercup yellow furisode.”
Ila peeked at the cover and then finally looked up, her midnight eyes sparkling with intrigue. “Foo-re…so-day?”
“It’s a type of kimono,” Astrid explained.
Ila looked at the cover again. “Huh. She doesn’t look like an oriental.”
Astrid cringed. “I think ‘Japanese’ is the word you’re looking for, and she’s not. Russian models are very popular in Japan.”
Ila sat up in the bed, gathering her robe around herself. “Oh? And how is it that you know this?”
“Well, for starters, I’m the one that wrote the article on it.”
Thumbing through the magazine, Ila stopped towards the center to scan one of the pages. “You’re ‘Julia Fairchild, Fashion Maven?’”
Astrid felt bile rise in the back of her throat. “No, she’s my boss. I wrote the article, she just put her name on it.”
“Why?”
Because Julia is the niece of our CEO and she doesn’t know a kimono from a bathrobe. Astrid was not about to explain the complexities of corporate nepotism to Ila.
“Because she was very busy that day. Look, you can keep the magazine, I just really need a couple things from my bag.”
“Do you work with models?” Ila asked.
“Yeah, sometimes, but—”
“Do you think I could be a model?”
�
�I warned you not to talk,” Sabine said. With a sigh, she took a seat in the chair.
Before Astrid could formulate a response, Ila pulled the tie at her waist and threw open her robe. “Well what do you think? Am I pretty enough?”
She’s worse than Erik. When he ignored what she was saying, Astrid could at least pretend that he heard her.
“You have the body for it,” Astrid said, giving up and letting Ila steer the conversation. “But being a model is more than having long legs and high cheekbones. You have to know how to present yourself. That, and I doubt there are very many casting calls up here.”
Ila frowned and nodded. “You’re right. What I wouldn’t give to live in Paris. Have you heard of wolves living in Paris?”
They both jumped as Sabine slammed her hand down onto the table. “Enough! You either give her back her bag, or I will take the matter to Erik.”
“Erik told me I could have anything I wanted,” Ila said.
Astrid could easily envision this argument stretching on for hours. It was strange to her that Sabine was basically threatening to tattle on Ila, as Sabine seemed like a very capable woman. Astrid reminded herself that she was also capable, and thanks to Julia Fairchild, she was accustomed to dealing with entitled idiots.
“There’s no need to involve Erik,” said Astrid. “Ila, how about we do an exchange. I have a sewing kit in my bag. If you can help me to find it, I can make something for you.”
Ila’s eyes grew wide with excitement. “A furry-soda?”
Astrid swallowed a chuckle. “I don’t think we have the materials for that, but I can probably make you a nice dress.”
Ila’s robe was still open as she climbed from the bed. “Now that I think about it, I may know where your bag is.”
CHAPTER FOUR
Most of the stuff she’d brought with her was still in her bag, though at a glance, Astrid did notice that her makeup was missing. With as hard as it had been to get her bag in the first place, she didn’t press the issue. There was a small sewing kit in her bag, brought for the express purpose of stitching up her clothes while out on the tundra. In lieu of tape, she used lengths of string to determine Ila’s measurements.