22

Kaitlyn

I hadn't planned on blurting out how I feel about Serik in front of his clan before telling him in private…but here we are. He sat up taller and beamed like the low winter sun. Normally, the way he kissed me in front of an audience would bug me, but this group saw my lily-white ass plundered by him less than a week ago.

Clan life is bizarre.

I don't know if my declaration influenced Serik's vote, but the human mates had enough to follow Sergei's plan to rescue the tourists.

"Timor will lead one group to their southern homes to harvest the false strawberries and fiddlehead ferns. Nobody wants to let that harvest pass us by. I will lead the rest of us north and convince the humans to camp on safer grounds. The groups will be separated for less than a moon cycle," Sergei declares in his earth-shaking voice. I still can't get over how large the gentle giant is.

"Which group should we join, chernyrozd? Artyom and Vera can't resist an adventure, so they will go north, but that doesn't mean we can't stay in the safety of the southern grounds. Strawberries don't have eyes, so you could help harvest them," Serik whispers in my ear. I love the way he's draped his arms around my shoulders to cuddle me close. A furry husband gives the best cuddles ever.

"We should help the humans," I whisper back. Sergei and Sydney are in a heated argument because he wants to travel north without her. The rest of the clan openly gawk. "We don't have a little one to keep us here, nor should I ignore those of my species in trouble. I'm a decent swimmer."

"Not in the northern waters," he replies with a soft bite where my neck and shoulder meet. "Have you swum with icebergs? If one trapped you beneath the surface, I'd lose my mind while breaking the ice to retrieve you. We can go north, but you stay out of the water."

"Everything Chuchunya do adds a layer of danger. I forgot this trip wouldn't be like swimming in Lake Winnipeg on my family's vacations as a kid," I murmur.

"Who is staying with us on the southern grounds? My family of four will harvest enough berries to share," Timor says.

"Me, I guess," Sydney grouses, throwing her hand in the air like a petulant teenager. "But I drive my own sleigh on the migration and stay in my home."

"We will go south as well," Adam says, hugging Gustav closer.

"Artyom, will you bring Vera north? I want a human to attend to injured humans who may remember their rescuers," Sergei asks.

"We will join you as well. Kaitlyn and Vera work well together," Serik volunteers after Artyom's nod.

"I think I should concentrate on finding Sveta. Where is—"

"Kiril, you will come north with us. You are a strong swimmer who is unattached," Sergei interrupts.

"Sveta knows the forest," Tatiana murmurs in a mousy voice. She talks to the floor instead of the group. "My sister doesn't want a rescue."

Kiril pouts because he either wants to migrate away from danger or because he'd rather stay close to Timor. Either scenario is funny, because anyone paying attention can see Sergei as the next leader. Serik says Kiril wants to take over for Timor, but I have more leadership qualities in my left boot than in that wet blanket.

Within hours, we are driving across the tundra under the Aurora Borealis. Sergei, Vera, and Artyom ride reindeer with giant backpacks at the front of the migration. With a stroke of genius, Sergei put Kiril in charge of the younger, unmated males accompanying us. They ride in the back with a large sleigh of supplies. When they asked me to ride on that sleigh, I laughed my ass off. I have a car. Manya, who claimed to be sore from riding south, took my place instead of riding in our vehicle.

Why sit behind a smelly animal in the elements when I can ride in luxury?

Since there are no roads or other cars to hit, I let Serik drive our Arctic Cat. My only request was to be in charge of the heating vents. I pointed the two vents at the underside of my thighs after kicking my feet onto the dash. I lay back in the passenger seat, gazing at the green brushstrokes in the sky through the clear plastic roof. Stars play peek-a-boo with navy-blue clouds and purple-refracted light. "I've never seen anything so beautiful."

"I have," Serik says, lifting our joined hands to kiss mine. With one hand on the top of the wheel and the other holding mine, my Chuchunya's posture resembles a gangster rapper. He's even slumped in his seat to accommodate his tall frame. All he needs are some chains and designer shoes.

"Thank you for letting me choose to help the humans."

"Thank you for allowing me to drive," he says with a fangy smile. "I can't imagine being happier than I am right now. Will our mushroom babies be okay while we are away?"

"Aww, babe, you really care about them! They survived the months I was kidnapped by the smartest Chuchunya I know. They should be fine. After their move from my apartment, they need a few days of stability before we move them again."

"We can delay our move from the central to the southern grounds too," Serik suggests, swerving around a mud patch that may or may not be frozen. I'm so proud of him for picking up on the nuances of driving so quickly.

"Won't that piss off Timor? He doesn't like the clan spread out."

"Yeah, it will piss him off, but he expects that of me. Remember, I didn't migrate north so I could watch, err guard—"

"Stalk me," I finish with a laugh. "You didn't spend the winter up north because you stalked me instead."

"And I'd do it again," he says with a smug smile I guess he earned when he earned my heart.

Sergei drops back to our pace and knocks on Serik's window. Why didn't he come to my side? Can't he see that Serik drives a machine for the first time? Males, pfft. The Arctic cat doesn't have metal doors or glass windows like a car. I thought cellophane wrap covered the cabin the first time I saw it. To get in, you must unzip an opening in the door panel. I crawl over Serik's lap to unzip a hole in the plastic over his head.

"Do you need to rest this beast in your dyla weturanya or can we go to Gleb's home first? He lives on the coast and if he's in, I'd like information from him first," Sergei shouts over the roar of the engine. He wouldn't have to yell if he rode closer, or if he had accepted our offer to ride in the backseat. Who knew the fierce snow monster would be scared of anything with an engine?

"What do you think, Serik? Should we head to Gleb's cave to conserve gas?" Both of us know I have vehicle experience, while Serik hasn't a clue. However, I can't help but boost my man's ego in front of his friend. If Sergei is our next leader, his opinion of Serik matters.

"The only gas we have is in the back, so let's not waste it," Serik says with a cocky nod toward Sergei. "We will follow you to Gleb's."

"Excellent," Sergei says with a clicking noise to his reindeer to speed up. "Vera and Artyom will go straight to the human's camp as scouts. If we don't find Gleb at his home, they will."

Gleb's northern home is nothing like Serik's central home. For one, Gleb's dyla weturanya faces the water. The Arctic Ocean laps against a rocky barrier within five meters of Gleb's home. We park the cat next to the sleigh while the Chuchunya on reindeer ride around a slight rise in the grassland. The roof is a grassy patch in a field of mud, but I can imagine it would be difficult to find when everything is coated with snow and ice. On the way around, we step over numerous scorched wood piles and debris. Otherwise, I wouldn't expect someone to live under our feet.

"This is where I imagine Santa's elves would live!" I shout before I read the room. Not one of the Chuchunya knows Santa or elves, but Gleb's round, wooden door is out of a fantasy novel. I worried I would need to shimmy into a hole in the ground or through a narrow crevice, but this place seems civilized. "Serik, I'll explain Santa, elves, and Christmas later if you ask," I whisper as Sergei bangs on the door.

"Thanks, love," he replies, kissing my temple.

"No need to knock when I'm right here. Like it or not, I still live here as his chosen mate for the season," Manya snaps as she pushes her way to the front of the group. She twists the pieces embedded in the door into a design and locks click from the other side. I thought the door was engraved, but the Chuchunya are clever with their locking mechanisms and hiding in plain sight. She pushes the door open and calls for Gleb as she disappears inside. "Gleb? Gleb, are you here?"

Despite the quaint exterior, the interior is similar to Serik's home. Flashlights light the rocky walls and icy floor. Two tunnels lead to darkness, which I suspect goes under the permafrost where the Chuchunya can stay warm with geothermal heat. I doubt there's a hot spring this close to the ocean. Would he bathe in salt water or use a primitive desalination method?

"How do you bathe this far north?" I whisper to Serik as Manya's shouts grow faint.

"All my homes have hot springs," Serik whispers. "Artyom and Adam live with Sergei in a large northern home with a central hot spring. I'm curious about Gleb's dyla weturanya too, but touring another Chuchunya's home is rude."

"You have to let them rut you if you want to know their secrets," Manya says as she jogs up the left tunnel toward us. "Gleb's not here—not that I expected him to be. He hardly eats. I've dragged his sleeping body from the trees more often than I can count. He's obsessed with this group of humans for some reason."

"Misplaced loyalty," Kiril sneers. "He'll do anything to please Sergei and with Sergei taking a human mate, it makes sense that he protects humans who wander into our territory."

The Chuchunya argue about how much Gleb sucks up to Sergei compared to Kiril's worship of Timor. Serik and I exchange a knowing look. He refused to leave the satellite lab because subconsciously he knew his soul mate lived inside. He may not have decided between Holly and me, but he didn't budge until he could take one of us. If Gleb is on the brink of discovering his dushevnayasvyaz, Manya will be more pissed off before we return to the central grounds.

"I'm not telling her," I whisper tersely to Serik. "You can't pull the ‘female card' and make me tell her. We could be wrong."

"We could be wrong, but I have no idea what a ‘female card' is or why I can't pull yours. I pull your legs around my waist, your hair, your nipple—"

"I get it!" I say with a squeak. I cover his mouth with my hand to shut his face just in time. All the Chuchunya have finished arguing or paused their debate to stare at us.

"Artyom and Vera will find him," Sergei declares, as if he can see them.

"Doesn't matter," Manya says, shooing us out the door. She fiddles with the interlocking pieces with half the finesse of when we entered. "I'll take you to his spot. He lays in a trench under a stand of birch trees."

"Shh!" Sergei shushes us with his hands out to stop.

Hoofbeats. Loud pounding heads straight for us.

"I'll go," I say, slipping from Serik's arms before he can argue. "If I'm seen, it's not an emergency unless they try something funny."

"Then I'll kill them," Serik growls.

"Yep," I reply with a pat over his heart. "If I scream, you kill them."

Since when did I get so brave? Kinda proud of myself for taking the initiative to confront strangers unarmed. My steps make obscene sucking and sloshing noises in the mud. Well, if things go sideways, I'm running for the cat, diving inside, and waiting for my man to take names and kick ass. There's a limit to this girl's bravery. Judging by the pounding of my heart, I'm on the edge.

Maybe I'll meet them from inside the cat…just to be safe.

My fingers tremble on the zipper. I slide through a hole half the size I would prefer. My body drops into the front seat. I don't want to rip the plastic from not unzipping enough, but I'm anxious to get inside. Thank goodness Serik's lanky legs require fully reclining the seat. I start the engine out of habit. Cold air blasts through the vents from where I left them, blasting the passenger side. With a flick of a switch, I turn on the high beams…

…blinding Vera and her reindeer. The frightened animal bucks, but she holds the reins like a modern-day Annie Oakley. Bareback and without spurs, the little lady calms the wild animal without losing her cool. The other females may make fun of Vera's inability to braid rugs or tan leather, but I'd trust her leading an Arctic expedition more than the tour company with the expensive RVs on thin ice. Maybe all of us have our talents and I've been too quick to discount Vera's and my own for less than we're worth. There's a reason Artyom chose Vera and Serik chose me. Dammit, I hate it when Serik is right.