Ice Wolf: A Shifter Romance Read online

  “I’m a healer,” Vigo said. “I’m a paramedic in my day job, but I have healing skills handed down through my wolf pack.”

  And now we have a girl on the team? Is this the end of the brotherhood?

  “Pardon?” She wasn’t sure where the voice had come from. Looking around, she saw annoyance on Wilder’s face and embarrassment on a couple of the others’.

  “Can it, Samson.” Wilder frowned at the big wolf.

  “Just telling it like it is. Gunnar must have finally lost the plot.”

  “I don’t understand.” Jenny looked up at Samson. “You didn’t speak, but I heard your voice.”

  Wilder drew her to one side, slightly apart from the others. “When the members of the brotherhood are together, we can communicate telepathically.”

  She blinked at him. “You mean you—they—can hear my thoughts?” Oh, dear God. She tried to remember what she had been thinking about last night. Most of it was about Wilder and she was fairly certain much of it would make them both blush.

  “Not all of them, but the most powerful ones come through. If we want them to. Samson must not have realized that you could hear him just now. He can be crass, but he’ll be okay once he gets to know you.”

  “Really?” She regarded the broad-shouldered figure dubiously.

  “Really.” He smiled reassuringly at her.

  “So what about you, Jenny?” Samson called across to her. “What special skills do you bring to our group? Shopping? Or will you be able to give us facials at the end of a long day?”

  Jenny sensed Wilder tense in preparation to respond, but she stepped forward before he could confront the grinning strong-man. “I’m not sure if my day job will be much use to the brotherhood. I’m an environmental scientist.” She saw Samson’s grin, widen ready for another smart comment. “But maybe my hobby will come in useful. I’m a mixed martial arts fighter.” She paused, allowing that information to sink in. “Award-winning.”

  Wilder smiled at the stunned look on Samson’s face. “Come on. It’s time to go.”

  They made their way across the tarmac to the plane. Samson caught up with Jenny, halting her in her tracks. “Carry your bag?” She wondered if this was his way of apologizing. Then he grinned. “We wouldn’t want you breaking a nail or anything serious like that.”

  “Sexist bastard.” The words left her lips before she could stop them. Clearly he hadn’t been impressed by her fighting credentials.

  “I’m an alpha wolf, darlin’. We’re all sexist bastards. It’s in the job description.”

  “Not all of you.” She nodded at Lowell, who had his head buried in a book even as he mounted the steps of the plane. She’d already figured out he was quiet and sensitive, if such adjectives could be applied to a werewolf.

  “Lowell has been away from the pack too long. Give him a day or two and he’ll be wolf-whistling—get it?—and grabbing his crotch along with the rest of us whenever you walk past.”

  “And Wilder? Is he a sexist bastard?” Her eyes went to the lone figure standing close to the hold. Wilder was checking the equipment as it was loaded onto the plane. She couldn’t resist the opportunity to talk about him, even with the antagonistic Samson.

  “Ah, Wilder. Our esteemed leader.”

  “I thought you were all alphas?” How could there be a leader among equals?

  “We are, but someone has to take charge on each mission. Wilder took Santin down last time, and pretty spectacularly, even though he was the junior member of the team at that time, so he’s the boss.”

  Jenny had to tilt her head back to look into his face. “And you’re happy with that?”

  His grin widened, showing his teeth to the point where it became a snarl. “See my face? Pure joy.” Jenny made an exasperated sound and started walking again. “Now do you want me to carry that bag, or not?”

  Chapter Six

  Longyearbyen was the world’s northernmost capital. Even before the plane had touched down, Jenny could feel the excitement in the cabin mounting. Her own body was responding to the call of the magical environment she could see beyond the window. It was August and the sun had not set here since April. She felt more alive. She felt more. Every sense was heightened to a point just short of discomfort. Colors became more vivid, so she put on her shades to protect her eyes against the stinging orange and blue sky and the gleaming snow. Scents were sharper. The way Sebastian’s citrus cologne clashed with the aroma of the strong mints Vigo was chewing was starting to seriously get on her nerves. Noises seemed louder. The coffee she had drunk on the plane left a bitter taste in her mouth. Her clothes felt rough against her skin and she ached to strip them off.

  The land of ice and snow. The midnight sun. Ours.

  She didn’t know which of the males spoke inside her head and she didn’t care. Whoever it was, he voiced what the rest of them were thinking. Svalbard was not traditional wolf territory—this strange, fragile land linking human habitation to the North Pole belonged to polar bears and foxes—but Jenny knew from snippets of conversation she’d overheard on the journey that there was something in this glistening wilderness that connected this place to her past, her future, and the destiny of all Arctic werewolves.

  Wilder came up behind her. “Our compound is north of the town. The terrain isn’t suitable for scooters or snowmobiles, so we have to take everything we need up there on sleds.”

  The fur-lined hood of his coat framed his face and she could only see his nose between his shades and the scarf he had pulled up over his mouth. She nodded. Determined not to give Samson any further cause for griping, Jenny went to help with the unloading of the plane. From her previous visits to this part of the world, she knew that forward planning was the key to a successful stay in this region. They had to carry barrels of water and firewood with them, as well as clothing, food, skis, and a variety of other equipment each individual member of the brotherhood considered a necessity.

  For Lowell, this seemed to include an inordinate number of books. Wilder viewed the cumbersome box with annoyance. “Haven’t you got an electronic reader?”

  “Heathen.” Lowell pretended to be outraged.

  “Never mind.” Vigo lifted his ski goggles long enough to wink at Jenny as he pretended to stagger under the weight of the box of books. “We can burn them if we run out of firewood.”

  Once the sleds were loaded, Wilder spent a few minutes organizing everyone. A team of guides would accompany them to the compound, bringing their supplies and equipment and returning to the town later. Each member of the brotherhood would drive, or mush, his or her own sled, pulled by a team of huskies.

  “Think you can manage that, darlin’? Or would you like to hop up behind me?” Samson’s drawling taunt made Jenny want to push him down on the ground and slam several fistfuls of snow into his mouth.

  “I think I’ll cope.” She had learned how to mush on her previous visits. It wasn’t an easy task for an Arctic. Initially the dogs hadn’t responded well to the presence of her inner wolf. They were subdued and cowed in the presence of a dominant animal, their handlers failing to understand the odd behavior of their usually well-trained hounds. Jenny had always had an affinity with dogs, although she never understood why. Her sympathies lying with the confused huskies, she had spent time overcoming their fears with patience and perseverance and become proficient in the skill of managing her own team.

  Now, with so many werewolves close by, the dogs were going wild, baying and howling and refusing to get in harness. Their handlers were growing increasingly frustrated. Remembering the lessons she had learned last time she was here, Jenny stripped off her gloves. Ignoring the protests of the dog handlers, she got in among the animals, letting the leaders sniff her hands. The freezing temperatures didn’t affect her. On the contrary, they sent a thrill of pleasure through her.

  “What the fuck is she doing?” Samson threw the question over his shoulder to Madden.

  “Damned if I know, but whatever it is, it seems
to be working.”

  The dogs, accepting that there was no threat from this creature who looked human but gave off wolf vibes, began to calm down. They clustered around Jenny, sensing something in her that reassured them. Nudging her with their noses, they allowed her to place her hands on their heads, her touch calming them. Gradually, the handlers were able to get them in harness, ready to lead the sleds.

  Jenny sensed Wilder didn’t know whether to be annoyed or proud of her actions. “Those dogs were out of control. Any one of them could have torn your face off.”

  “They could sense who we really are. They were scared. Now they’re not. It was the difference between a smooth sled ride or a long wait followed by a fraught one.” She pulled his scarf down and pressed an icy finger between his lips. “I know which I prefer.”

  For a brief second, his teeth were sharp on the tip of her finger. “You are amazing.”

  “Never forget it.”

  “I always knew dogs were dumb. All that howling, and for what?” Samson’s voice carried across to Jenny’s sensitive ears. “The only thing worth howling at these days is a fine-looking bitch.”

  “Think of him as an annoying—but overlarge—kid brother and treat him the same way,” Wilder advised her as they made their way to their individual sleds.

  “Does that mean I can lock him in his room until he behaves?”

  “We tried that once,” Wilder sighed. “He took the door off its hinges.”

  Any noises from the dogs ceased as they lunged forward. With Wilder in the lead, Jenny next, and the others strung out in single file behind them, the only sounds were pounding paws, dogs panting, and the scraping of sled runners over compact snow. This was Arctic silence. Arctic wilderness. They were leaving civilization behind them and the raw power of the white wilderness ahead called them as only the land of the midnight sun could call to an Arctic werewolf. They were on the top of the world and it was their world. As she followed in Wilder’s powdery wake, controlling her team of six dogs, the thought thrilled Jenny through to her nerve endings. It thrilled her wolf even more. The Arctic deep within her longed to break free of her human chains and hurl herself into the harsh surroundings. This was her natural environment and its raw beauty cried out to be explored and savored. Later, she made a promise to her inner wolf. Later, all this will be yours to enjoy.

  It took just over an hour to reach the compound. Nestling in the embrace of a shallow, blue-tinged mountain range, the accommodation was more luxurious than Jenny had anticipated. Arranged in a circle, each of the ten cabins had its own double bedroom with an en suite shower room. In the center of the circle, there was a larger building housing a kitchen, dining room, and communal meeting room, complete with a radio, TV, and games console.

  “Don’t tell me this has been here for four hundred years just waiting for your return,” she commented to Wilder as they finished offloading the sleds.

  He laughed. “Even Gunnar isn’t that organized. I think Lowell has used this place for some of his environmental studies. He does work for the United Nations.” He called out to Lowell. “You’ve been here before, right?”

  “Gunnar asked if I could recommend somewhere.” Lowell’s serious expression lightened into a surprisingly boyish smile. “What do you think?”

  Jenny nodded approvingly. “You did good.”

  “Not that good.” Vigo burst in, his face like thunder.

  “What is it?” A frown descended over Wilder’s features.

  “You’d better take a look.”

  They followed Vigo outside and into a large shed. He pointed inside. “The generator and radio transmitter. Or what’s left of them.” The interior of the shed was a mass of smashed metal and torn wires. “Looks like someone’s taken a baseball bat to them.”

  Wilder groaned. “Can we take a guess as to who was responsible?”

  Vigo’s lips thinned further. “No guesswork needed. In case we were struggling, he left us a clue.”

  He pointed again. Santin’s fox-pelt coat had been hung on a peg behind the door.

  * * *

  They sat around the fireplace, eating bowls of vegetable soup that Vigo and Madden had heated in a huge metal pan over the open flame. Even supplemented with hunks of bread, it was a curiously insubstantial meal for a group of carnivores. The guides had returned to the town, taking the larger sleds and half the dogs with them. The other dogs were housed in the compound’s own kennels, ready for the return journey. Jenny, having taken responsibility for feeding them, was pleased to note that they seemed less wary of her.

  “It will take at least a month to get a new generator and transmitter from the mainland,” Wilder said.

  “We’re not planning on being here a month.” Sebastian stretched long legs in front of him. “Surely we can get to strip that bastard’s pelt from his body in a day or two?”

  “Do we need electricity?” Jenny was sitting on a cushion on the floor and she tilted her head back to look up at Wilder, who was seated on the sofa behind her. His naked, muscular thigh was level with her cheek and the temptation to rub her cheek along its length was almost overwhelming. Not for the first time, she reminded herself they were not alone.

  “If we were human, it would be a deal breaker. For us, it’s an inconvenience. The guides have stored the food we brought with us in the shed outside. It’s mostly tinned stuff. What they don’t know is, from now on, we’ll be hunting and killing our own meals and eating them raw anyway.” There was a general murmur of approval at this statement. “We don’t need lighting, because”—he waved a hand toward the window, indicating the perpetual daylight—“we have constant light. If a snowstorm outside does make it dark in here, we have candles. There is enough wood to keep a fire going, but, let’s face it, it’s aesthetic.” He glanced around. They all wore shorts. Only Jenny wore a vest as well. They had lit a fire to heat the soup and then extinguished it. “Our rooms aren’t heated, but we all prefer it the colder the better. Finally, we have no hot water.”

  Madden grinned. “Cold showers, guys. Sounds like my kind of holiday.”

  “Is there a downside to Santin’s little welcome?” Samson asked.

  “Yes. Without the transmitter, Gunnar can’t get in touch. There is no mobile phone signal here. We needed that radio.”

  “Has anyone heard from Gunnar since the attack at Jenny’s house?” Vigo rose and went to look out of the window. The snowy landscape had them all mesmerized. The closer it got to the midnight hour, the stronger the pull of the Arctic wilderness beyond the compound became.

  No one answered.

  One more nail in your coffin, Santin.

  “What’s the plan? Do we go to Jotunheim tomorrow?” All eyes turned to Wilder. Everyone deferred to him. Since their belief in the fabled place was so strong, Jenny had given up the fight and had decided to see where this strange journey led her.

  “Last time, Santin drew us to him at Jotunheim and trapped us there. Those tactics worked well for him, so I’m guessing he’ll want to stick with the same formula. I don’t want to do it his way. We know he and his Siberians are here, in Arctic territory.” There was a collective rumbling growl of rage from the rest of the pack. “Let’s hunt the bastards down.” Wilder’s lips curled back from his teeth. “Their stench should make them easy to track.”

  Jenny glanced around. She didn’t want to sound stupid, but she had to ask the question that had been burning away inside her. One of them, anyway. The question of how they were going to get to the mythical palace of Jotunheim could probably wait. As far as Jenny was concerned, that one could wait a long time. “I’m new to all this. Can someone explain what the fight between the Siberians and the Arctics is all about?”

  It was Lowell who spoke, his quiet voice taking on a storyteller’s tone. “It goes right back to the times of Norse legend when the great god Odin put the sun and moon into chariots to fly back and forth across the sky. But the sun and moon were fickle and lazy, not always doing their job pro
perly and the lengths of the days and nights were not uniform. To solve the problem, Odin bespelled two giant wolves, the sons of the most fearsome werewolf ever known. They were the children of the great werewolf god Fenrir.”

  Lowell paused to give his companions time to react to the name. Even Jenny, who had only a limited knowledge of the Norse legends, felt a cold finger of fear track its way down her spine. It was a name that could strike terror into the heart of every werewolf. She felt the collective vibration run through the pack. It was more than fear. Was it hatred? Loathing? Guilt?

  Fenrir. Destruction incarnate.

  “Fenrir cannot call himself a wolf.” Jenny had never heard that low, agonized note in Wilder’s voice before. She wished she wasn’t hearing it now. “He kills for sport and wastes the meat. He has no pack loyalty. He would devour anyone who stands in the way of his vanity. Look what he did to the great god Tyr, the only person to show him kindness.”

  His only desire is the destruction of the world and all who dwell in it.

  “I don’t understand.” Jenny looked up at him. Wilder had spoken of the wolf god of destruction in the present tense. “I thought Fenrir was dead?”

  Sebastian shook his head. “Knowing his capacity for devastation, the gods tried every way they could think of to kill him, but it couldn’t be done. In the end, all they could do was chain him for all eternity.”

  Fenrir must be chained, or chaos will reign.

  Jenny shivered. The telepathic messages she was getting from the other pack members were loud and clear. Fenrir was not good news. “I hope his prison is more secure than Santin’s?”

  Lowell gave a snort of laughter. “Fenrir’s own mother, the wolf goddess, Angrboda, oversees his imprisonment. She is determined he will never be freed. Angrboda was also the mother of the wolves in my story.” Jenny choked back an exclamation. “Yes, the giant wolves Odin employed to assist him in his task were born of an incestuous relationship between Fenrir and Angrboda. Angrboda was tricked into sleeping with her own son. That is how low Fenrir will stoop. Their names of the wolves Odin chose are Skoll and Hati. Odin gave Skoll the task of chasing the sun across the sky, while Hati was charged with chasing the moon. Siberians are the descendants of Skoll, while Arctics are descended from Hati. One day the Siberians hope their god, Skoll, will catch the sun and cause perpetual night. We Arctics, of course, hope our own mighty god, Hati, will catch the moon and bring about perpetual day. Since the time of the gods, Siberians and Arctics have been at war, and the Siberians have always coveted Arctic territory. Santin has a modern-day problem. His domains are increasingly encroached upon by humans, his pack are hunted in some places to the point of extinction. He has become more and more determined to take over the land of ice and snow and provide his pack with a new homeland.”