Chapter Two
Jaeger walked through his lodge, eyeballing the place to make sure everything was in order. Hunting season was finally over and he was able to breathe a little easier. Even though he had three guests booked, scheduled to arrive later in the afternoon, it would be a relief the tourists wouldn’t be traipsing through the forest with rifles.
“You need to be more careful,” Agathe said from the doorway of the kitchen. She spoke in her native tongue, a mixture of Greenlandic and Danish.
“I’m always careful,” he replied in the same language.
She raised a wrinkly finger and pointed at him. “You were out running the other night. You risk yourself when it isn’t a full moon.”
“Stop, you worry too much.”
Agathe threw her arms up in the air, making the two gray braids of her hair bob around her head. “Well, who am I to warn you? I’m only your den mother. Raised you, took care of you and your brothers. Protected you when you wanted to run through the night and had warm milk waiting for you when you came home.”
Jaeger placed his hands on her shoulders. “You’re right, Agathe. You are the mother of my heart, but you worry too much.”
She sighed and patted said heart. Since the top of her head only came to the center of his chest, it was about as high as she could reach.
“You are all that’s left of the Frosne Hjerte pack,” she said. “Your brothers have joined other packs for their mates. You must now give me little pups to supervise and to carry on your ancient name.”
He rolled his eyes and walked away. “We have guests coming today, Agathe.”
She placed her hands on her rounded hips. “You are avoiding the conversation.”
“Yes, I am,” he admitted, heading toward the grand staircase that swept from the foyer to the second floor.
“Hunting season is done. Why are they coming?”
He shrugged. “I haven’t a clue, but while they’re here, behave yourself.”
She snorted. “And you better be careful when you go out running at night.”
He bounded up the stairs to do one last inspection of the rooms. “I’m always careful, den mor.”
Her harrumph could be heard through the whole lodge.
A little after one that afternoon, a truck arrived with his guests. Jaeger watched for a moment at his office window, observing the two men who got out of the back and the woman who emerged from the driver’s seat, bundled up for the cool Alaskan temperature. October rarely got warmer than twenty-five degrees Fahrenheit during the day, and with the sunlight hours growing steadily shorter, warmth was hard pressed to be found. Most inhabitants of Tauq, Alaska, stayed indoors around fire stoves, swapping stories and drinking coffee.
The smaller man unloaded some black equipment bags that looked like they held cameras. It made sense to wait until after hunting season to take nature photos. Alaska was breathtaking this time of year. Jaeger left his office and hurried outside to greet his guests.
A slight breeze was blowing, bringing with it a touch of frost. Snow had already fallen, giving about a foot where the drifts lay the highest. More snow was coming. Winters were hard in the Arctic and only the strong survived. His ancestors had adapted long ago to not only survive, but thrive. As Jaeger stepped out from the warmth of the lodge, the woman turned. She had a plastic smile on her face, one he recognized because he had the same bland greeting gracing his own mouth. He quickly identified she had strawberry-red hair, hazel eyes, and a spattering of freckles over her face before the breeze shifted and her scent drifted by, teasing his nostrils. Suddenly, every nerve in his body came alive, as if he’d touched a live wire, and for the first time in his life, the wolf deep in his soul stirred awake while he was in his human form.
Jaeger narrowed his eyes as every molecule in his body focused on her. She stopped in her tracks as their eyes met, gazes locked. He plummeted into the depths of her eyes and saw the future. What could be, or maybe what should be, visions of them traveling through the clouds and soaring through the heavens. His wolf locked onto her scent and pawed, wanting free. His incisors grew and he had to clamp his lips shut to keep them hidden until he was able to will them to settle.
“Hello!”
One of the men called out a greeting, shaking Jaeger out of the unexpected lust he found himself in. The woman blinked her big eyes, and it was enough to pull his attention from her and salvage what little sanity he had left.
“Hello,” he responded. “Welcome to Frosset Lodge.”
He forced himself to glance at the others, the two men traveling with her, but like a magnet, his gaze kept being pulled back to her.
“I’m Jaeger Larsen,” he said. He meant it to everyone, but he only had eyes for her. He waited for her name.
She smiled and walked toward him with her hand out. “I’m Gabrielle Thorpe. This is my team, Kenny Smith and Mark Pope.”
He took her outstretched hand, and electricity tingled up the nerves. It struck him hard, the awareness it brought, and along with it a new problem, because his dick went hard as stone. She must have felt the spark between them, too, because her lips parted and her heartbeat skittered out of control. He could hear it, hell, he could feel it beating wildly. For him. For them. Through his head rolled one word.
Mate.
****
As soon as they had landed at the small Nome Airport, Gabrielle considered staying on the small plane until it took her back to civilization. She’d just come back from trekking through the Himalayas in Bhutan, where the thin air stole most of her energy and the cold settled in her bones. Alaska wasn’t as cold as twenty-three thousand feet, but it was still too soon. Her bones hadn’t yet thawed.
At least the chartered plane from Nome to the small runway just outside of Tauq was quick. Gabrielle watched the landscape scroll by, mesmerized by the beauty. The Himalayas were majestic, breathtaking, and to most people Alaska couldn’t compare. However, she realized she preferred the more simplistic vastness on display below.
As she stepped from the rental Jeep that had brought them from the airstrip to the lodge, Gabrielle took a deep breath. The air was cold and hit her lungs hard, momentarily freezing her breath. The lodge was beautiful, the quintessential rustic cabin, except this one was two stories tall and must have had about four thousand square feet of real estate. A verandah wrapped around the whole house with a stone chimney rising through the roof, and she could just imagine sitting on rocking chairs and watching the sun set on the vast Alaska horizon.
The door opened and she turned, and her gaze locked onto the most handsome man she’d ever seen in her life. Her belly did a strange little jiggle that radiated out to every nerve ending and pushed her heart to beat double time. She had this overwhelming urge to rush up to him, grab him, and kiss him until they both needed oxygen. Big, handsome, pale-blond hair and dark, dark eyes, she tried very hard not to stare but couldn’t pull her gaze off him.
Words went on around her. Hellos and greetings, pleasantries that had her focusing on the man’s lips. Jaeger Larsen. She held out her hand, wanting … no, needing, to feel his skin on hers. When he finally touched her, it was like coming home. One word blasted through her mind.
Fate.
“I’m Gabrielle Thorpe. This is my team, Kenny Smith and Mark Pope.”
He squeezed her hand. “Welcome.”
She smiled. “Your lodge is absolutely beautiful.”
“Thank you.” He leaned in closer to her. “Please feel free to explore it. You are the only guest here at this time.”
His words meant one thing, but the promise in his eyes meant something else. He looked over her shoulder, straightened, and nodded toward the men behind her.
“Of course, I meant all of you.”
Gabrielle grew a little warm and knew she had to be blushing. She hoped it would just look like a little wind burn from the cold breeze. Jaeger picked up her suitcase resting next to her leg and gestured for her to enter the lodge.
Once inside, the warmth wrapped around her and helped chase the chill away. A large staircase wound up the center of the room, its mahogany banister polished to a shine. A bank of windows rose from the ground, stretching up to the second floor. On the deck outside, a round fire pit, now empty, was waiting for someone to come out and utilize it. The décor could have easily sunk into antler chandeliers and taxidermy hell, but Jaeger Larsen seemed to have abandoned that stereotype. Instead, bookshelves lined one wall, filled with all types of tomes. Plaid furniture in rich warm colors complemented the bold rug patterns lying on the floor. Paintings of the Alaskan wilderness, with and without snow, hung on the walls.
Kenny and Mark crowded in behind her, sounding more like bulls barging into a china shop, and she was thankful there wasn’t anything to smash. They dumped their various bags on the floor and hurried over to the fire roaring in the large fireplace. Gabrielle took off her coat and draped it over her arm.
An old woman came bustling from what looked like the kitchen area, carrying a tray loaded with mugs. Jaeger hurried to help her and took it from her to set upon a side table.
“This is Agathe,” Jaeger introduced her. “She runs the kitchen, so if you need anything don’t let her stoic demeanor scare you.”
Agathe gave him the stink eye, huffed, and returned to the kitchen. Jaeger looked at Gabrielle and winked.
“Tea, if you wish,” he said.
“Thank you,” Gabrielle murmured. “I think I’d like to freshen up some. My team and I have an interview to conduct in about an hour.”
He raised an eyebrow. “You’re a reporter?”
“Oh, no,” she said. “I’m a cryptozoologist. I’m here to investigate a photo that was sent to us about a creature that might or might not be related to the Yeti.”