Brec paused as his mind threw up Ana’s picture. Crystal blue eyes, blonde hair so pale it was almost white, and legs that seemed to go on forever in a pair of light blue jeans that left little to the imagination. She was as tall as a supermodel, but with more curves. Oh, how he would have liked to run his hands over those curves. The swell of her hips, the modest mounds of her breasts. She was like an image taken from Norse mythology . . . .
a
valkyrie fallen from the sky. Even now the thought of her sent a rush of heat racing down his body to his groin, adding a new level of frustration to her vanishing act.
“It doesn’t matter,” he mumbled.
“Oh, come on,” Micah pressed. “I know you want a mate. You’re never going to get one if you don’t put yourself out there. For all you know now, this woman could be the one.”
“Maybe for you.”
Brec hated the resentful tone of those last few words, but he had little control over it. Without even trying to, Ana had touched a nerve.
Micah frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Brec held his breath and darted his glance at the curtain Mrs. Downing had just disappeared behind. The last thing he needed was for the nosey herbalist to take an interest in his love life. When he was certain she was in the back of the shop, he turned back to his brother. “It means the girl that was all over me until she heard that I was a ‘doctor.’ After that, she couldn’t get away from me fast enough.”
His brother’s look of concern vanished behind a wave of tired resignation. “Not this again.”
“No, not this again,” Brec growled.
“Because we aren’t discussing it.”
“She could have left for any number of reasons, Brec. For all you know she just remembered she left her stove on and had to run home before her whole house burnt down.” Micah put a hand on his brother’s shoulder and gave him a small shake. “This is about Katie, isn’t it? Just because Katie had her head too far up her ass to see how good she had it with you, doesn’t mean every woman will be like that.”
“You’re a good man, Brec, but I need someone who can protect me and keep me safe.”
Katie’s words floated back to him on the wings of a memory and Brec winced. He could still see the starry look in Katie’s eyes every time his brother had entered the room.
His brother the warrior.
He shook off the sour feeling creeping over his skin at the thought of his ex and faced his brother.
“It’s
not
about Katie. It’s about being forced into a role I don’t want.”
“The tides take it, Brec, why can’t you accept that it’s not about what you want?” Micah challenged him, a hint of anger heating his voice as he met his younger brother’s eyes. “You have a gift, Brec. And frankly, I’m a little tired of having to remind you to be grateful for it.”
Brec opened his mouth to retort, but Micah shook his head and pointed a finger at him.
“You have a gift for healing that our people haven’t seen in centuries. What others have to train for years to be able to do, you seem to have an instinct for. The great Alaunus, god of healing, speaks to you in your dreams and tells you how to perform healings that are nothing short of miraculous. How many lives have you saved?”
“You act like I’m treating life-threatening wounds on a daily basis,” Brec snapped. “Most days I’m treating distemper and
brucella
.”
“And the fact that making sick people well again is so trivial to you is something you should be ashamed to say out loud,” Micah said quietly.
“It’s something a healer should be ashamed to say out loud,” Brec countered, glaring at his brother. “It’s something I hear
warriors
say all the time.”
“Tell me what warriors think so little of our people and I’ll see that those words never escape their lips again.”
Brec whipped around and slammed his hands down on the counter, too angry to look at his brother anymore. There was a part of him that felt shame for not valuing his gifts, but that part was overshadowed by the part of him that resented not having been given a choice. It was easy for Micah to go on and on about how valuable healers were—he didn’t have to deal with standing by while the other males went on patrol. He didn’t have to see the dopey expressions on the women as they waved the warriors off and know that those looks would never be aimed at him. He didn’t know what it was like to be considered little more than a nursemaid.
Resentment burned through Brec’s
veins,
fed by memories of his ex. Katie had come onto him before he’d fully realized his gift as a healer. She’d draped soft curvy body over him and laughed and flirted as if her soul depended on it. Even then, part of Brec has suspected Katie was attracted to him because of his imposing size, but he hadn’t cared. Katie was beautiful and he’d loved her laugh. At six foot seven, two hundred and forty pounds Brec was
a shoo
in for his people’s pod of warriors. From a young age, he and his brother had both trained hard for the day when they would take a place among the few selkies charged with defending their kin against the shark people, the
toos
. It had seemed as if he and Katie would be the perfect match.
And then Alaunus had ruined everything. It had started with dreams, the image and voice of Alaunus telling him how to heal injuries the persisted in the face of their traditional medicine. In the blink of an eye, Brec had gone from almost-warrior to renowned
ixht
, the healer of his people. That was the day he’d been forever banned from entering the warrior pod. He was officially too precious a resource to risk in battle.
“I love our people just as much as you do, Micah,” he said quietly. “Don’t pretend you know how you’d react if you’d been the one to have your destiny chosen for you. And don’t pretend it would be so easy for you to get over watching the woman who shared your bed for three years walk away to chase your older brother.”
Micah’s face softened and he rubbed a hand over his face. He sighed. “Look, Brec--”
“Still prefer the life of a warrior to that of a healer, do we, Brec?”
Stifling a groan, Brec tried to regain his composure as Mrs. Downing’s voice let him know he had an audience for his humiliation.
Perfect
.
Forcing the irritation from his face, he tried to summon a smile for shopkeeper. “Is my order ready, Mrs. Downing?”
“Micah is right, you know,” Mrs. Downing continued. “Healing is an amazing gift to have and you shouldn’t treat it as such a burden.”
Brec clenched his teeth. It was bad enough to hear his brother’s preaching about how he should treasure his
talents,
he didn’t need to hear it from a human shopkeeper.
“Thank you so much for the excellent service, Mrs. Downing,” he said, straining not to shout. “Micah, it’s time to pay the nice woman.”
Micah painted a big smile on his face as he stepped forward to hand Mrs. Downing the money. Judging by the wad of bills he pulled out of his pocket, he’d gotten a good price for the pearls they’d harvested this week. The Native shopkeeper handed him the herbs, Brec’s dismissal of her advice seemingly mollified by the money being handed over to her.
“You behave yourself now, boys. I wouldn’t want anything to happen to my best customers.”
Brec grabbed the bag of herbs and turned to make his way to the door. Suddenly the scent of the herbalist’s shop was cloying and he was certain he’d suffocate if he didn’t get out of there soon.
A soft breeze stirred his hair as the door closed behind him. It sent a shiver down his spine and he pulled his jacket higher around his neck. This February had been one of the colder ones he remembered. It was mid-afternoon and the temperature was still just above twenty degrees. His gaze lifted to the sun high overhead. At least the days were getting longer again. He knew several of his patients could do with some more sunlight. Gift from Alaunus or no, sometimes a warm sunbath was a miracle all on its own.
He tucked his bag of herbs under his arm and rubbed his hands together, trying to keep the blood flowing. He couldn’t wait to be done with the week’s shopping so he could trade this miserable human flesh for the thick warmth of his seal-skin.
“Where are your gloves, you idiot?”
Brec glared at his brother. “I loaned them to you last week and you lost them.”
“Oh.” Micah had the grace to look embarrassed. He cleared his throat and gestured ahead. “Well, I’ll buy you a new pair. Come on.”
It was a small blessing that his older brother maintained his silence as Brec followed him to a few more shops. For the most part, Brec went in with his brother as Micah purchased his supplies, but there was one place he refrained from entering.
Al’s Ammunition didn’t look much different than the other shops, all lined up on each side of the main road in downtown Haines. It was just one of the several small family owned stores that made the small Alaskan town the quaint place it was. Still, Brec had no desire to watch his brother purchase the sleek rifles that he would never get the chance to carry.
He glowered at his brother as he came out of the shop carrying a long non-descript black case.
“I don’t see why you need another rifle anyway.”
Micah rolled his eyes. “Don’t be petty. These rifles fire underwater and on land. They’re perfect and we need another one. We have three pods and only two rifles, that
doesn’t
make sense.”
“How many times have you actually fired one of those things?” Brec demanded.
“Last week
Tyler
didn’t lose his tail to an orca because Jonathan had this on him.”
“And what happens when a human sees a seal swimming with an APS rifle strapped to its body?”
Micah snickered. “That would be funny.”
Brec clenched his hands into fists, sucking in deep breaths through his nose. He closed his eyes, hating how petty he sounded. Whining about Micah getting a new gun made him sound like a petulant teenager. His own voice annoyed him when he got like this. Micah was
right,
it was time to let it go. He took another deep breath. He had to just let . . . it . . . go.
Like a cruel joke, his mind threw up an image of Ana. Flirting with her had been the best distraction from Katie that he’d found in a long while. It pissed him off that she’d ended up being just another reminder of what he’d never have. What was it with women and warriors anyway?
He pictured Katie and the way she’d mooned after his brother, even though Micah had made his disinterest perfectly clear. Every time he closed his eyes he could see her batting her eyes at Micah, slipping off her seal-skin and lounging on the rocks whenever she thought he was looking. Hers was just one in a long line of feminine faces that he was forced to see fawning over his brother’s men.
His thoughts were followed by a parade of patients, one complaint after another. Each face showed gratitude, but not one showed the sort of awe that was so obvious when they looked at Micah and his fellow warriors. They battled killer whales and harpoon-wielding hunters. He had a bag of herbs.
Brec opened his eyes and shook his head. He needed a swim. Maybe the icy depths of the
Chilkoot
Inlet would take the heat off his anger. He had too many responsibilities to waste time sulking like a child.
Already the scent of the frigid sea air was soothing his senses and calling him into the icy waves. He felt a little better as he and Micah made their way into the small cove on the shore. He started going over a mental list of the herbs he just purchased and the different salves and potions he’d need to make with them. David had had
brucella
for days, and Michael’s cut wasn’t healing as fast as it should . . .
Something lying in the middle of the sandy cove caught his eyes and Brec frowned. Micah stopped next to the dark shape.
“Is that mine?” Brec asked.
Micah nodded and bent to examine the spike connected to the chest with a thick chain. “Looks like the chain
is
fine and the spike isn’t broken.” He frowned at Brec. “You didn’t pound the spike far enough into the cave wall. Isn’t this the second time it’s broken free?”
“I must not have your warrior muscles to anchor it deep enough,” Brec muttered sarcastically.
“Don’t take that tone with me, brother. I don’t want to have to send a search party out
again
to look for your chest because you’re too busy complaining to anchor it properly.”