Every day for the next week, Leif stopped by for breakfast. I sweetened his coffee with all of my chocolate and shared my protein bars with him. If I ran out of supplies, well, I’d just go home that much earlier. Each day that Leif showed up, he was a little more coherent, a little more alert, and stayed a little longer. I took out my sewing kit and let out the seams in some of my clothes, cobbling a few shirts together to give him a piecemeal top and a pair of (admittedly) ugly pants to wear. I made him a pair of booties out of pieces of my sleeping bag. I was tearing through my supplies, but that was okay, too. I felt like progress was being had, and anything I could do to turn Leif a bit more human, I was all for it.
Having him around camp was far more enjoyable than I’d expected. There was a shyness to Leif, but also an alpha rawness to his mannerisms. It was like he was deliberately being careful around me, conscious of the fact that he’d hurt me while mindless. Now, he seemed just as determined to treat me with kid gloves. Every morning, I’d wake up and find a new sculpture left in a snow drift nearby - a penguin, a reindeer, a mermaid…and the mermaid had looked like me, right down to my braids and nose-piercing. I’d laughed with delight at the sight of it. Leif was finding his artistry again, and in doing so, seemed to be finding himself.
It had been several days since I’d had the opportunity to bathe, though, and I was feeling grimy. I’d noticed little rings of dirt under Leif’s nail beds as well, and decided that both of us could use a bit of a cleaning. Of course, being that it was the Antarctic, it was difficult to get the urge to bathe when it was so chilly outside.
Still, I could do with a quick sponge bath, and I suspected that Leif would, too, if I threw it out there.
So the next morning, I woke up earlier than normal. I heated water on my fire and rushed it back to my tent, and then stripped down. I scrubbed myself with a wet cloth and a bar of soap, and then undid my braids, wet my hair, and washed it as well. It wasn’t the best bath I’d ever had, but I felt cleaner - and smelled cleaner - than I had in days. By the time Leif arrived for his morning coffee, I was re-braiding my wet hair.
He shifted before coming into camp, and as he did, I laid out his clothes that I’d made for him. We’d fallen into a bit of a pattern. I made coffee, Leif showed up, dressed, and we chatted for a bit before he left again.
As he dressed, I watched his nostrils flare, and he looked over at me, eyes narrowing. “What’s that smell?”
“Honeysuckle?” I smiled at him. “My soap is scented. You want to sniff?” I offered him one of my newly-cleaned braids.
To my surprise, he leaned in and smelled my throat, his face so close to my skin that I could feel his breath on me.
My body instantly reacted to his nearness. My nipples hardened, and my pulse sped up. A warm flush of desire covered me and I began to breathe harder. I suspected that if I touched myself between my legs, I’d be slick with need.
All of that from a simple sniff.
There was no question I was attracted to Leif. He was gorgeous. It wasn’t just that he was a were-bear and one of the few I could consider as a mate. It was his sleek, tanned build, the tight buttocks that I saw every morning, the gleam in his amused blue eyes…I just liked everything about him. I liked his artistic spirit, I liked his sensitive side, and I liked that he was regaining a sense of humor. I remembered having a crush on him when I was ten years old. That crush was returning, and returning hard.
“Smells good,” he said after a long moment. “I haven’t smelled flowers in a long time.”
“I still have some soap and water,” I said, hating the shiver in my voice that gave away my emotions. “You want to get clean, too?”
Leif held his hands out and grimaced. “I’m not good company like this, am I?”
“You are,” I said breathlessly. And when that sounded too intimate, I forced myself to give his arm a friendly pat. “Come on. Let’s go into my tent.”
I took the last of the heated water from the fire and headed into my small dome tent. We were both too tall to stand upright in it, so I sat down on my nest of blankets and patted next to me, indicating that he should do the same.
Leif sat down in front of me and folded his long legs, and then scooted forward. His knees touched mine, and I tried not to stare at his nakedness. He hadn’t put on his clothing yet, and when he crossed his legs, his entire body was exposed to me. Shifters weren’t supposed to be prudish about naked bodies. I’d seen everyone in the bear clan naked time and time again. Shifting just didn’t allow for modesty. But this was the man that I was planning on mating - he just didn’t know it yet. So every time his cock was exposed to my gaze, I got a little flustered. Maybe that would go away once my virginity did, but for now, it was still a problem.
As if he noticed my attention, his cock stirred and began to harden. Oh. I knew it was the proximity to me, and my oncoming heat. My scent filled the small tent, embarrassing me. Leif didn’t say anything, though. He was trying very hard to ignore any physical attraction to me, and I knew it was because our first meeting had gone so very badly.
I sat the hot water bucket nearby and dipped my cloth into it, wrung it out, and then gestured for Leif to turn around. “Why don’t I do your back?” Anything to not have to stare down his erection.
He obediently turned around and presented me with his back. His long, matted hair wandered down his spine, brushing at his buttocks, and I considered it as I lathered up the bar of soap. “Do you want to cut this mess off or just wash it?”
“You have scissors?” The pleasure in his voice told me the answer.
“I have a hunting knife,” I told him. “Want me to do the honors?”
“Please,” he murmured, and his voice was husky. His spoken language was so much better now that he’d been practicing again. You’d never realize that he’d had to struggle the first few days to even put sentences together.
I was thrilled that Leif was returning to normal. Every step made him a little bit closer to mine.
I fisted my hand into his mane, gathering it at the base of his neck. The scent of him filled my nostrils - not filthy like I’d expected, but warm and earthy and pleasant. I pulled my knife out of my leg sheath and began to saw at his hair. A moment later, his yard-long locks were in my hand, and the hair left on his head brushed his bare nape.
“Much better,” I murmured and watched with appreciation as he rotated his shoulders, flexing.
“I already feel lighter.”
“You should,” I told him, tossing aside the hanks of hair. “I think you just lost a few pounds in knotted hair.” I picked up the soap and cloth again, lathered them one more time, and then began to wipe at his wiry shoulders.
He groaned with pleasure as soon as the cloth touched his skin.
I froze.
The sound he’d made…it made my entire body come alive. Need throbbed in my body, and I fought back the urge to whimper in response. My nipples brushed against the fabric of my clothing, and my skin tingled.
I couldn’t let Leif know, though. Gritting my teeth, I continued to stroke the cloth over his shoulders, wiping away trails of grime as he flexed and shifted in place, trying to subconsciously lead me to the itchy spots. I followed along with his squirming, though I admit that I was probably washing him slower than I should have been. I was just so fascinated with his corded body. Every bit of him was lean muscle, sinewy and full of strength. He radiated heat, and now that I was washing him with honeysuckle soap, he smelled like a mix of flowers, were-bear, and…Leif. I was fascinated by touching him, and unable to stop myself. When I was satisfied with how clean his back was, I continued to wash him, moving to his arms and dipping and scrubbing at my cloth repeatedly to keep it wet and soapy. It wasn’t the only thing wet; I was pretty sure my panties were soaked and they had nothing to do with the bathwater. But, oh god, Leif was pretty, and touching him was sheer joy. I couldn’t help myself.
My wet fingers trailed down one muscular bicep, and I sucked in a breath when it flexed in response.
Leif looked over his shoulder at me, and his eyes were slitted, his expression impossible to read under that growth of heavy beard. “Want to do my front for me?”
I blushed.
That was forward of him. And yet…wasn’t this entire bath thing a little forward? I knew he was turned on just by looking at him, and he’d know I was turned on just by smelling my scent. I considered for a moment, but I wanted to do his front more than anything. So I swallowed hard and said, “Turn around.”
He did…and those blue eyes seemed to glitter as they focused on my face. I dipped the washcloth again, noticing that the water was getting cooler — and dirtier - by the minute. But I continued to soap it, and when it was ready, I reached out and pressed the cloth against the base of Leif’s neck, against his pulse.
He swallowed, and I watched his Adam’s apple bob just inches from my wet fingers. My hands moved on his chest, soaping with one hand and exploring with the washcloth with the other. This was incredibly erotic, and I suspected that we both knew we’d gone from ‘bath’ to ‘foreplay.’
But neither one of us was stopping the other.
It was impossible to ignore the hard length of his cock that jutted from his crossed legs. It pointed upward, the shaft thick and throbbing, the crown a deep purple. I kept glancing at it, fascinated despite myself, and my soaping hands slid lower, brushing over Leif’s stomach and hips, and then moving down his thighs.
He didn’t stop me, just remained completely still while I explored him. I wondered how much he’d let me dare. It was just the two of us on this island, in this tent, in the world. There was only Leif and myself.
In that moment, I felt incredibly connected with him, and intensely aroused.
So I soaped up my washcloth one more time, dropped the bar of soap into the water, and then placed both hands on his straining erection.
Leif groaned. His hands moved forward and grasped my shoulders, and the next thing I knew, he was kissing me, his lips mashing to my own.
I was so startled that I couldn’t respond at first. I just sat there while his mouth moved over mine.
He seemed to realize that I wasn’t kissing him back as boldly as I’d touched him. The kiss changed, gentled, and his tongue flicked against my lips in a silent question.
I opened my mouth to his, my answer to that question an unequivocal yes.
Leif’s kiss became deeper, gentler. His tongue stroked against mine and I moaned at the feel of his mouth, the wiry bristle of his beard against my cheeks. The need banked in my body had turned into a full-fledged roar, and my wet hands tightened around his cock, holding him as we kissed. His hands dragged over my breasts, cupping them and then teasing the nipples, trying to give me the same pleasure I was giving him in return.
Oh god, Leif’s mouth felt so good on mine. I sucked on his tongue as it slid against my own, thinking how perfect he was for me. He’d be ideal for my heat. He’d…
I pulled away so fast that our lips made a wet sound as we separated. And I stared at him in horror.
He had no idea why he was responding to me like this. Just being around me was going to arouse him, because of the state my body was in. And I felt…ashamed at that.
Leif didn’t even remember that he was in mourning, and here I was, molesting him to suit my own needs.
God, that made me a shitty person.
My hands slid off of him as guilt surged to the forefront. “Why don’t you finish cleaning yourself?” I said, jumping to my feet. I sounded breathless. “I think I need some air.”
And I turned out of the tent and ran.
I hated myself for being so manipulative to Leif. He didn’t remember the last sixteen years. For all intents and purposes, he was a widower, wasn’t he? And here I was with my heat-scent, shoving it under his nose and trying to get him to mate me.
If I was a decent sort of person, I’d remind him of his grief, allow him to get it out in the open, and see how it was affecting him. If he was beside himself with sadness, then I’d know he didn’t want me. If he truly seemed like he’d had time to grieve, then maybe I could continue with my plan. I’d then tell him my problem and ask him how he wanted to logically proceed. Did he want to give a mating a go with me? Or did he want to return to the wild and continue grieving Katja?
The sad thing was…I was terrified of his answer. What if he wasn’t over her? I didn’t know if I could compete with the memory of a dead girl, and so I kept things from him.
It was awful and wrong to withhold information from Leif, and I couldn’t seem to help myself. I shoved my wet hands into the pockets of my coat and paced down the beach, waiting for my body temperature to cool a bit.
I walked for hours, circling the island. Leif didn’t catch up with me, didn’t even come out to see if I was okay. When I returned to my tent, the water had been disposed of, the bathing items cleaned and put away. Leif was gone.
Damn it.
I wondered if I’d chased him off for good. If he came back, I resolved, I would tell him everything.
No more secrets. I had to make sure Leif knew his reaction to me was purely driven by hormones. That he wasn’t attracted to me. That he’d left because his beloved Katja had died.
Once he had the truth, then he could decide how he wanted to handle my heat, instead of me deciding for him.
As much as I hated it, it had to be done.
That next morning, I woke up to an ice sculpture of a whale. It looked as if it were cresting a wave, riding a snowy embankment. The sight of it was a good sign, though. It meant Leif was still in there, and he wasn’t mad at me.
Yet.
Still made me feel better, though.
To my relief, Leif returned a few hours later.
The bear lumbered into camp like nothing had happened, and just outside of the small circle of my encampment, he crouched and began to change to his human form. I placed his clothes out for him, and as soon as he shifted to a man, he immediately began to dress.
I tried not to stare at him as he did, but failed.
Leif had shaved. Not only had we cut his long hair, but he’d cut it even closer to his scalp and shaved his face with my knife. Bristle curved the strong lines of his jaw, but the long, crazy beard was gone.
Leif was gorgeous. Young, strong, and delicious. My hormones sang in response when his attention fixed on me, and the firm lines of his jaw clenched. Without the beard, his nose seemed to dominate his face, a bit too long and prominent to make him model-beautiful, but I liked the look of his face.
I liked everything about him. I was so screwed.
He stared at the fire, and I obediently scooped the last of my instant coffee into the thermos, waiting for the water to heat. Leif had gone through my luxury supplies faster than I’d anticipated, but I hadn’t minded in the slightest. It gave me pleasure to see the look on his face as he re-discovered things as small as protein bars or even a broth-flavored tea. I was sure that a lot of that was my crush on him, but I was powerless to oppose it, thanks to my heat-frenzied hormones.
Leif was silent, though. We both stared at my small fire, not saying anything. The faint crackle of burning driftwood was the only sound in the camp, along with the distant calls of the chinstrap penguins. I no longer even noticed them; they avoided my camp. It smelled too much like predator.
“Storm’s coming,” Leif said after a long moment. “A big one. Lots of snow. You should find shelter.”
I squinted up at the gray skies. They looked pretty much the same as every other day here. It was cold, and dry, and blustery. Typical Antarctic day. “How can you tell?”
He tapped the side of his big nose. “I can smell it. There’s a subtle change on the breeze.” He nodded at the penguins. “And they’re scattering, heading for shelter.”
“Oh.” If the penguins were leaving, that was probably bad.
“You should go,” he said.
That made me bristle. Such a very final sort of comment. You should go, indeed. “I have a tent,” I said stubbornly. “I’m not going anywhere.”
“Why not?”
“I’m staying here until the boat returns.”“You can’t. You have no shelter.”
“I have a tent.”
“Your tent won’t be enough.” He gestured at the cove. “There’s buildings in that direction. If you must stay, go into one of those. I’ll help you gather wood. With both of us working on it, you should have enough for a small fire to keep you warm.”
If you must stay? Don’t sound so thrilled.
I couldn’t help but notice he was talking about fire keeping me warm, not us warm. “What about you?”
“I’ll be fine in bear form. I’m used to this sort of thing.” He squinted. “I have a den an island or two over. It’s warm enough.”
He was going to ride out a big storm in bear form? “How long do you think the weather will last?”
“Few days. Maybe a week. Like I said, it’s not safe and you should go.” His blue eyes watched me carefully, revealing nothing.
I suspected that if Leif went back to bear form for a week straight, he might not return. His memory was full of holes as it was. “Why are you trying to get rid of me?” I asked in a stiff voice. It hurt that he was trying to chuck me off of the island. It was almost like he didn’t want me here.
His blue eyes finally showed an expression - surprise. “I’m not trying to get rid of you, Nikolina. I’m trying to protect you.” He watched me pour water into the thermos. “I’ve been selfish and eaten half your supplies, and you’ve been making me clothes out of your own things. You don’t have a lot of things left. I’m concerned for your safety.”
He was right about that - I was down to two changes of clothing, and less than half of my food. My sleeping bag was so tattered and abused that I had to hold it together while I slept.
But…I didn’t want to leave. I was going into heat so very soon. I couldn’t call Mikkel back now. If I did, my cousin would throw me down on the ground and try to mate me.
Which would be utterly disgusting for both of us.
“I’m not going anywhere,” I repeated.
“Why?”
“My…project isn’t done.” I needed to tell him the truth, but the words weren’t coming out of my mouth. Not yet.
“No project is more important than your safety.”
“You’re right,” I said, thinking of my cousin being (shudder) overcome by my mating heat. “That’s why I’m staying.”
Leif snarled and got to his feet, pacing, the coffee I’d made for him forgotten. “Why are you being so stubborn?”
“Why are you acting like you have any say in what I do?” I retorted.
“I’m acting like a man that wants to mate you,” he roared at me. “I thought that was obvious, Nikolina!”
I reeled, stunned by his words…and his anger. “Mate me?”
He approached me again, knelt down beside me in his mismatched, piecemeal clothing that I’d made him, and his hand cupped my cheek. “What we shared yesterday in your tent—“
Oh god. He’d probably been overcome by my mating hormones. Guilt flooded me. “It was just a bath,” I said, feeling panicky.
“It wasn’t just a bath,” he bit out. “I want you, Nikolina. I—“
I jerked away from him, hot, emotional tears pouring down my cheeks. “That’s just it, though,” I cried. “You don’t really want me.” It was time to tell him the truth.
“Yes, I do want you—“
“No, you don’t,” I said. “Not really. You want Katja, remember?”
He reeled at my words, and it was like I’d struck him. I watched his magnificent blue eyes dilate as memories flashed through his mind. “K-katja?”
“That’s right,” I said, choking back a sob. “Katja.” I dragged one of my packs close and pulled out the photo I’d brought with me for this specific purpose, a photo of a teenage Leif and Katja, their faces pressed together as they embraced. I held it out to him. “I know you don’t remember a lot of things, but you’ll want to remember her.”
He took the photo from me and stared at it.
“That’s who you want,” I said bitterly. “Not me. I’m just here manipulating you and flirting with you and making you think you want me. Okay? And I’m sorry. I’m really sorry, but I wanted to tell you. It’s not fair, but I thought you should know. She’s why you’re here. Do you remember now?”
Leif simply stared at the photo, not saying anything.
I rushed on, determined to get it all out before I broke down and started weeping like a hormonal girl about to go into her first heat.
Which I was.
“Katja died sixteen years ago,” I said softly. “You were supposed to marry her as soon as the two of you graduated. But she died, and you, I don’t know, lost your mind. You ran away from the bear clans and came here, and you went crazy or something. You’ve been in bear form for the last sixteen years, and she’s the reason why. And if you can’t remember her, you deserve to remember that at least.” I tapped the photo. “Trust me. Katja’s the one that you want, and I’m sorry, but I’m not her.”
Leif very calmly set the photo down. He stood up, looked at me with terrible, haunted eyes. Then, he peeled off his makeshift clothing and left camp, transforming back into his bear form.
I picked up the picture and tucked it back into my things, unable to stop the silent sobs that shook me.
I’d just broken Leif all over again. Like a bitch, I’d made him remember Katja, just so I wouldn’t feel guilty about his need for me. Need that I’d forced on him.
I’d driven Leif away again, just when he was so close to returning to his old self. Damn it.
There was no ice sculpture that night.
Leif didn’t show up to visit the next morning. That was fine with me. I was in a rotten mood, given that the heat was oncoming and I’d just picked a fight with my best chance at relief from the misery. It was wretched, my body aching and sensitive to the slightest touches, and no respite in sight. I felt feverish, so instead of taking Leif’s advice and finding one of the abandoned buildings and filling it with firewood, I made soup and crawled back under my blankets, sleeping the day away. I woke up at night to see the skies clear and utterly crisp, the air chilly.
I snorted at the intense stars. Storm, my ass. He was just trying to get rid of me, wasn’t he? Wrapping my blankets tighter around my body, I went back to bed.
The next morning I woke up…and moaned. My head pounded and my body flared up at the slightest touch. Between my legs, my skin felt as if it was throbbing and pulsing. And I ached deep within.
I was officially in heat.
It was awful. I mewed in agony and panted as I dragged the blankets off of my body. My breasts ached and swelled, and I brushed my fingertips over my nipples, hissing at the sensitivity of them. Everything hurt.
I had to do something to take the edge off.
Feebly, I dug in my bag, looking for the bullet vibrator I’d brought with me. The moment I touched it, though, I hissed. It was metal, and metal in the Antarctic was a bad idea. If I stuck it to my clit, it’d be the equivalent of sticking my tongue against a frozen flag pole.
Damn it, why had I not thought this through?
Moaning in agony, I pulled out the small first aid kit I’d brought with me. I’d brought some sleeping pills in case of emergency - as in, if I couldn’t find Leif, maybe I could sleep through the worst of the heat. I popped two, swallowed them dry, and crawled back under the blankets. My hands automatically stole to my sex and I rubbed at my aching clitoris. I was incredibly slick and wet, but no amount of friction could get me off.
I needed to be mated. This was worse than I’d even imagined.
Luckily, the sleeping pills kicked in and I eventually fell asleep, my hands between my legs.
Even my sleep was restless. Hot, wet dreams filled my mind, and Leif starred in every single one of them. Leif’s head, moving between my thighs as he licked my clit. Leif’s fingers, pushing into the well of my sex. Leif dragging me onto my stomach, pulling my hips into the air so he could thrust into me from behind. Dream Leif was rough, but I didn’t care. I cried out with every dream-thrust, but nothing seemed to ease the ache deep inside my body.
“God damn it, Nikolina,” he rasped in my ear. “Why’d you have to be so stubborn?”
The world surged around me, and I struggled to wake up. Somehow, my brain was mixed up, because I could have sworn Leif was in my tent, lifting me into his arms. Leif wrapped me in my sleeping bag and dragged me out of my tent, and an icy blast of snowy air pummeled my face. “Hold on to me,” Leif said, and I clung to him.
Or tried to. The sleeping pills were too potent and I slid back into unconsciousness.