Capturing the Alpha (Shifters of Nunavut Book 1) (11 page)

CHAPTER TWELVE

 

Ginnifer looked up from her notebook and checked her watch, wondering what was keeping Boaz. He had said he’d come to her room to go over footage at noon, but it was already after one. Since coming to Siluit, he had adopted the shifters’s habit of being vague about time. Even when they set a specific time to do something, he often came late and rarely offered an excuse as to why.

She knew that he was probably with Tallow. His relationship devoured most of his time, though Ginnifer wasn’t in any position to complain. His close proximity to Tallow, who was high in the pack hierarchy, made it easy for him to obtain candid interviews and boatloads of footage. In fact, even with ample free time, Ginnifer didn’t have half as much usable film.

Unlike Boaz, she was still viewed as an outsider. Breeze was friendly, but almost always away from the den. Ginnifer actively avoided Kuva, as he tried to get more familiar with her each time she looked his way. She had made some headway with Indigo, mostly because of Marl.

Marl was the resident healer, a nurse in her “former life”, and also took care of the youngest children, the ones too little to be left on their own. There were a lot of young children in the den, but only a few under Marl’s care, as shifter children were remarkably self-sufficient once they reached the age of five or six. It was also around that age that they began spending much of their time outside the den, shepherded by the more physically capable Breeze.

To Ginnifer’s surprise, Indigo spent the better parts of her days aiding Marl. She was remarkably adept at mending wounds, and seemed to instinctively know what was ailing a person and how to fix it. She even spent time around the small children, where her hard exterior melted away, and she became an entirely different person, one who hummed songs, made silly faces, and kissed scratches and bruises.

Spending time with Indigo, Marl, and the kids, was Ginnifer’s own indulgence, as it didn’t contribute anything to her project. One of the few rules Zane had laid out when it came to filming was that they were not allowed to film the children, as they were prime targets for poachers.

Sighing, she stuffed her notebook in her bag and tossed it on the floor. She got up, remembering at the last minute to make the bed. She’d never been the greatest at keeping things tidy, and Breeze had threatened on more than one occasion, to make Ginnifer sleep in her own room if she didn’t start cleaning up behind herself. Ginnifer wasn’t eager to sleep in a cold bed all by herself, and she didn’t think she could manage to snag Boaz from Tallow’s room at this point.

She walked to the door, glancing back at the room as she pulled up the pelts. It didn’t look too bad. There were a few things out of place, but she’d clean them up when she got back from helping Marl and Indigo.

As she stepped through the doorway, she collided with something hard. She didn’t have to look up to know what, or rather, who it was. Zane’s scent was already doing sinister things to her body as she took a step back to take him in.

Swathed in his dark pelt, a day’s worth of stubble covered his jaw, and his lips were slanted into a small smile. His dark hair was pushed to one side, so neatly that Ginnifer thought he might have combed it, though she’d never seen any of the males bothering with that sort of thing.

His golden eyes looked past her, his smile fading.

“What happened here?”

She had almost forgotten how sexy his voice was, and coupled with his scent, her heart began to thrum faster. She heard the words that he said, but they took a moment to register in her mind, as though she were translating them from a language she barely knew.

Following his gaze, she looked at the room again. “Uh, what?”

Smooth
.

Zane stepped inside, letting the pelts fall over the doorway. “Is this all your stuff?”

Ginnifer wrapped her arms around her torso. “Not the stuff on the shelves, mostly.”

“I can see why Breeze is so pissed,” he said with a cringe.

Ginnifer kicked a few sheets of paper towards one of her bags. “It’s really not as bad as it looks. I can have it all cleaned up in an hour.”

“Sure,” he said slowly.

Ginnifer stepped in front of him, as if she could somehow block his view of the room. “What are you doing here, anyway? Aren’t you supposed to be ignoring me?”

“I wasn’t ignoring you,” he said, his golden eyes falling to meet hers. She almost squirmed under the weight of his intense stare. “I actually came to apologize about last week. I was unfair to you.”

“I’m sure you’ll find some way to make it up to me.”

She’d meant the statement to be light and playful, but when she heard the implication in her own voice and saw desire flash across his face, she almost wished she could take it back. Almost.

“I meant—”

“I know what you meant,” he said, his lips slanting. “And I do intend on making it up to you, now, in fact. If you’ll let me.”

She drew her lips in to wet them. Her voice was breathy. “You do?”

“I’m going to take you hunting.”

***

The muskoxen had only moved a short distance from where Zane had last spotted them earlier that day. He stopped on a cliff, far enough away that they could both see the prey clearly, but they wouldn’t be heard.

As soon as Ginnifer was off his back, he shifted into his human form. She was already on the ground, lying on her belly as he came down beside her. Zane was pleased to see that she had good instincts for the hunt. He folded one side of his pelt under his body, and the other half he spread over the two of them. She looked up at him, her gaze questioning.

Though they were far off from the herd, Zane still spoke softly. “We will wait here for one of them to stray from the others.”

It wasn’t how he was accustomed to hunting muskoxen. Usually he went out with at least three other wolves. Two would confuse and distress the herd, while he and another would take down their targeted prey. He was fairly certain he could take a muskox down on his own, though admittedly, he’d never had to.

“You’re not going to kill one of the little ones, right?” she asked.

“Right.”

“Or their mothers? Because, that would kind of be the same thing, you know?”

Zane rubbed the top of her head. It was an affectionate gesture he often used on Tallow and Indigo, but with Ginnifer, he found himself stroking her hair as much as rubbing it. He wanted to tangle his fingers in the silky locks, but he pulled back.

“Don’t worry. I promised you a bull, didn’t I?”

Her cheeks colored. “I don’t usually care about this sort of thing. I understand it’s the circle of life and all. I’ve filmed plenty of animals dying, and I really did help catch that marsh buck. But this…it feels sort of personal. They’re all minding their own business, and now one of them is going to die just so I can get a interesting shot.”

She fingered her camera with a frown.

Zane counted thirteen muskoxen and four calves. Far off to the left of the herd was a cow and a surly old bull, chewing at the sparse vegetation. Zane pointed towards the bull, waiting for Ginnifer to follow his mark.

“That bull right there, he’ll feed the pack for two days. Three, if they aren’t picky about what they’re eating.” Which of course, was never, but that was beside the point. “We’re not just here so that you can film, or even to get you that pelt I promised. We’re hunting to feed our pack.”

As he spoke, a smile curved her lips. Zane felt a pang of longing.
Our pack
. But it wasn’t her pack. It never would be, unless he claimed her as his mate. He looked away from her, inwardly groaning as his cock began to swell. Why couldn’t he just leave her alone?

He had tried to. For days, he’d avoided her, but in a bizarre paradox, the more he did so, the more she seemed to be everywhere. He couldn’t inhale a breath in his den without picking up the trail of her enticing scent. Even when he was in the central chamber and there were a hundred wolves all fighting to be heard, he could always key in on her quiet voice and the chime of her laughter. He didn’t dream of her every night, but she seemed to always be the last thing on his mind before he fell asleep and the first thing he thought of when he woke, hard and wanting.

Some mornings, it was a struggle to lie in bed, waiting for the craving to subside. Every night, he had the dangerous thought that if he went to her and brought her back to his room, they could share his bed. If he had her only once, it would curb his desire for her, hold him over until Coral was properly his mate. Instinct—biology, as Indigo called it—would take over and he wouldn’t feel as though he needed Ginnifer anymore.

It was as depressing as it was necessary. As much as he wanted her out of his head, she’d become such a fixture there that he had a difficult time believing there would be no void once she was gone, that somehow Coral would fill all of the spaces left behind by this human female.

They didn’t speak as afternoon faded into early evening. With so much unsaid between them, the silence should have felt oppressive, but Zane found himself more content than he’d been in days. As the sun began to set behind them, Ginnifer leaned her head on his arm. He liked the weight of her against him, and after a few moments, he rested his chin on her head. She laughed a little, and then rested fully against him, letting her eyes flutter shut, but not falling asleep.

The bull never strayed from its spot, and several times he chased younger males away from the prime feeding area. Eventually, the others began to mill away, and Zane saw his opportunity. He put his nose to Ginnifer’s head, taking a quick drag of her scent before nudging her from his arm.

“Don’t move from this spot,” he told her, before standing with his pelt.

As he shifted, he regretted sniffing her. His erection made the change exceptionally uncomfortable. He looked back at her to see that she appeared alert, with her camera in hand and aimed at the herd. Quickly, he surveyed the area, making sure it was secure and there were no threats to be seen. When he was satisfied, he padded down the hillside, keeping his body low and staying in the shadows.

Darkness flooded the valley, but it did him little good against prey that could see in low light. Once he was down on the flat plain, he had to creep slowly so as not to reveal himself. Advancing behind the beast, Zane had to force Ginnifer out of his mind to keep from compulsively checking the cliff.

His approach was near silent, but when he was almost within striking range, the bull lifted its shaggy head. Looking directly at Zane, it let out a loud bellow, before taking off in a run. Zane could hear the others on the move, and he knew that if he didn’t strike quickly, the bull would rejoin its herd and there would be no chance of isolating another that night.

He caught up to the bull with ease, but waited briefly before springing, cautious to avoid the swing of its head. For all his predatory strength, the horns could slice through him, rendering him lifeless in seconds. As he latched onto its throat, jaws locking its airway shut, he had the wild thought that if he died, Ginnifer would be left alone on the tundra.

Would she know her way back to the den? He didn’t think so. And how long would it be before Tallow or Breeze thought to follow his scent? It could be a day before they found her, and that was if she stayed in one place.

When he finally made his way up from the spiral of dark thoughts, the bull lay dead beneath him. He unclenched his jaw and lifted his head, feeling no pride as he stared down at it. The other muskoxen were already halfway across the valley, but Zane spared them only a quick look before turning his attention to the cliff. Ginnifer was still laying where he left her, waving at him.

He made a hasty return to her, not caring that his steps were loud on the wet stone. He shifted as he arrived back on the cliff, returning to his human form in time to see her roll over and gape up at him.

Zane fell on Ginnifer, his legs coming down on to straddle her at the hips. He brought his hands down to cage her in, feeling the thrill of the hunt for the first time that evening. She looked up at him, her expression unperturbed, only a faint look of anticipation on her face.

With his eyes, Zane traced the lines of her body. The flat planes and curving swells called to him, and he knew that she could feel him hard against her abdomen. Of all the things he could have said to her, the words that came from his mouth would have been the last thing he’d have predicted.

“I always resented my father for taking a human mate.”

Her beautiful lips twisted into a mirthless smile. “I wouldn’t be your mate even if you wanted me to be.”

To Zane, it sounded like a challenge.

“Is that a fact?”

She nodded. “I do like it here, but…I could never leave my family, give up my home, and my career.”

It sounded as though she’d given it some thought, and Zane noted that she hadn’t mentioned her Aaron, which pleased his wolf.

“I could convince you,” he said, lowering his head.

She wet her lips. “How?”

Zane claimed her lips, his pelvis unconsciously flexing against her as he did so. Their mouths moved in tandem, each anticipating what the other would do and responding in all the right ways. He stroked the seam of her lips and she parted for him, allowing his tongue entrance into her depths.

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