“Now. Beforetheywake up and insist on coming along.” His jaw tightened. “This is…it’s my clan’s business. My trust to extend.”
I understood what he wasn’t saying. He needed this to be between us—to prove himself without the others watching, without judgment.
I nodded and reached out to Kenai and Taimyr through the bond.I’ll be back soon.
Their hesitation hit immediately, protective instincts about letting me go anywhere with another alpha tightening like a vise around my heart. But a few moments later came their answer:We trust you. We’ll be there in an instant if you need anything.
I couldn’t stop the smile that crept across my lips. I was a lucky lady to have them.
Aleksi was still watching me with that deep, unreadable intensity. It reminded me of the one time I’d tried camping with an ex—the sheer enormity of the forest had been so overwhelming that I’d made him drive us home that same night. But this time, I couldn’t escape. And in truth, I didn’t want to.
“Let’s go.”
He nodded and shifted into his reindeer form. Snow swirled around him as chestnut fur rippled over his skin and he quadrupled in size. He knelt so I could climb onto his back, and any comparison to riding Taimyr vanished immediately. Aleksi was massive—easily twice Kenai’s size, with shoulders broad enough that I had to stretch to grip his coat properly. His antlers were enormous, dark and imposing, spreading above us like a crown.
He let out a snort that I somehow knew meantHold on tight, the sound vibrating through his chest, and then we were moving.
Where Taimyr’s flight had been smooth and graceful, Aleksi’s was pure power. Each movement felt like harnessed thunder, and when he launched into the air, it wasn’t elegance, but dominance over the sky itself.
After a surprisingly short flight we descended into a shallow valley. As we landed, I saw a small cluster of log cabins nestled among the trees, smoke rising from chimneys. Several reindeer in human form were visible, and the moment they spotted Aleksi, they began hurrying toward us.
“Aleksi!” A man I recognized as Mikael limped forward, his ankle wrapped in bandages. “We weren’t expecting you back so soon.”
Aleksi shifted to human form, catching me as I slid off his back. “How’s the ankle?”
“Healing, thanks to you.” Mikael’s eyes flicked to me, widening with recognition—not of who I was, but ofwhatI was. “Is she…?”
“Sylvie Hartwell,” Aleksi said, and there was something almost proud in his voice. “My—” He hesitated. “—the human lawyer. Sylvie, this is Mikael.”
More reindeer had gathered now, maybe a dozen, all staring at me with a mix of curiosity and hope.
“You’re a lawyer,” a woman noted, stepping forward. She was tall and broad-shouldered, with dark hair pulled back in a practical braid. “You’re going to help us?”
“I’m going to try,” I replied. “But I need to understand what you’re facing—reallyunderstand it.”
“Show her,” Aleksi said quietly to Mikael. “Show her what they did.”
Mikael hesitated, then slowly unwrapped the bandages around his ankle. What I saw made my stomach turn. The joint was healing, yes, but whoever had wrapped it had done a shoddy job; it was still swollen and bruised.
“The medical facility at the center didn’t treat it properly,” Mikael explained. “Said if I couldn’t work, I didn’t qualify for full medical benefits. They gave me basic pain meds and sent me back to my shift.” He turned to Aleksi. “Thank the gods you were there to help me.”
“It was nothing,” Aleksi muttered.
“It wasn’t nothing,” another man insisted. “He does it all the time—takes our extra shifts, shares his rations, volunteers for the most dangerous assignments so we don’t have to.”
“And then wonders why the other clans think we’re aggressive and difficult to work with,” Mikael added with a faint smile. “Because our leader’s too busy protecting us to play politics.”
“Politics are a waste of time when people are suffering,” Aleksi growled.
“See?” Mikael looked at me. “Too protective for his own good.”
I watched Aleksi’s jaw clench, saw the frustration in his eyes. He was being praised and criticized simultaneously, and he didn’t know how to handle either. It was kind of adorable.
“So, what are you going to do about the ankle?” I asked.
“Can’t afford more medical care,” Mikael answered quietly. “Not on what we make.”
“It was an on-the-job injury. What about a worker’s compensation claim?”
