I turned to face them. “Think about it strategically. In any negotiation, you need something the other party wants, or it goes nowhere. Now, we have something he wants.”
Kenai sat up straighter, his tactical mind catching up to the idea. “You’re suggesting we use his bond to you as a bargaining chip?”
“I’m suggesting,” I said carefully, feeling my way through the thought as I spoke, “that for the first time, Aleksi has a personal stake in cooperation. He needs to prove he can work with others. He needs…” I hesitated. “To prove himself to me.”
The forest outside shimmered in the wind, snow swirling in small eddies around Aleksi’s form. Even from here, I could see the tension in his shoulders, the way his hands clenched and unclenched at his sides. He was fighting an internal battle. Was it about wanting to claim me, or about protecting his people? Probably both.
“He’ll see it as manipulation,” Taimyr warned, though his tone had shifted from dismissive to thoughtful. “Forest reindeer value directness—honesty. If he thinks we’re playing games?—”
“I’m not playing games.” I moved back to the couch, positioning myself where I could see both of their faces. “We’ll be completely transparent. Tell him exactly what we need from him—not just for any potential relationship, but for the union to succeed. Make it clear the two things are interconnected—because they are. How could I be with someone, with him, if he can’t cooperate with you?”
Through our bonds, I felt their emotions shifting—resistance giving way to reluctant consideration. Outside, Aleksi had resumed his pacing, digging a path in the fresh snow.
Taimyr let out a long sigh. “So he wasn’t lying about the bond?”
I shook my head. “Do you want me to reject it?” My heart stuttered at the thought, but how could I not ask when these twomen where perfect for me? How could I be so greedy as to want more?
Their arms were instantly around me, noses pressed into the crook of my neck.
“We told you before,” Kenai murmured. “That’s not how reindeer shifters work. A bond is sacred. It can’t be ignored.”
Taimyr huffed. “Yeah, but if I’d known it meant ending up in a herd with Aleksi, I might’ve questioned it more.”
Kenai chuckled. “Fate’s funny like that, isn’t it? I don’t love the idea, but somehow, it feels like exactly what we need.”
They both curled in tighter around me, their warmth pressing in on all sides. Fate certainly had an interesting sense of humor.
Chapter Twenty
Sylvie
The next morning, I woke sandwiched between Kenai and Taimyr. Through our bond, I could sense that both of them were still half asleep, their breathing deep and even.
I sat up carefully, trying not to disturb them, and reached out, searching for Aleksi.
“He’s outside,” Kenai mumbled, not opening his eyes. “Been pacing since dawn.”
“Is he okay?”
“Definitely not,” Taimyr replied, equally drowsy. “But he’s not attacking anything, if that’s what you’re asking.”
I slipped out of bed and pulled on warmer clothes, following the pull of Aleksi’s presence—his scent of leather, pine, and spicy ginger—leading me outside into the snow.
I found him on the cliff edge behind the chalet, staring out at the mountains in his human form. Even from behind, the tension in his shoulders was visible.
“Couldn’t sleep?” I asked, approaching cautiously.
He didn’t turn around. “I don’t sleep much. Habit of leadership—always waiting for the next crisis.”
I moved to stand beside him, looking out at the pristine landscape. “That sounds exhausting.”
“It is,” he said simply. Then, after a pause: “I want to show you something. If you’re willing.”
“Show me what?”
“Two things, actually.” He finally looked at me, and I was struck again by the intensity in those forest-green eyes. “First, some of my people—those who are my responsibility, my clan. And then…something that might help your case.”
“Okay,” I agreed, curiosity piqued. “When?”
