“I understand, Little Wolf. Cautious is good.” Zander sent her a grin over his shoulder that brought her glare back. He loved that.
“Just go,” Rae said tightly.
Zander went out the door. As soon as he closed it, he heard Rae bang her way across the cabin and slap home the bolt, locking him out.
He laughed softly as he returned to the wheelhouse. As though a lock could keep out a snake. Or a polar bear. Sweet Little Wolf had a lot to learn.
* * *
Crash!
Rae peeled open her eyes as something slammed against the door of her bedroom. She jumped, then cursed as her head hit a low ceiling.
Where the hell was she? Rae looked around in panic, the only light coming from two minuscule windows at the top of the room. She saw polished wooden walls and ceiling, a bed that was wider at the foot than the head, and a sliding door that rattled as something else banged into it.
Memories zoomed back—the long ride in the speedboat, her dizziness climbing aboard the fishing vessel, her first dismayed glimpse of the Shifter called Zander. Eating sandwiches with him in the cramped cabin, his bulk somehow comforting, crawling into bed and leaping out again when a snake’s cold nose touched her arm.
Rae bunched the covers over her chest. What other creatures did Zander have hidden on this tub? Which one was turning over all the crap in the main cabin?
Clatter. Thunk. Thud!
Rae scrambled on hands and knees to the edge of the bed and carefully eased the door open a crack.
Zander’s black duster coat swung into her view, followed by a white braid strung with blue beads. He came up with an armful of stuff and dumped it into an open crate.
Rae shoved the door all the way back. “What are you doing?”
Zander looked up without surprise and dropped a couple pots and pans into the box with a loud clank. “Cleaning up. What’s it look like?”
“Right now?”
“It’s nine in the morning. Yesterday, you wanted me to clean up.”
“You’re not cleaning. You’re just dumping.”
Zander gave her a black stare. “You could get your lazy ass up and help. This isn’t a bed-and-breakfast.”
Rae yanked the door closed. She’d kept her clothes with her on the bed, along with the small duffel bag she’d hastily packed when Eoin announced they were leaving Shiftertown. She slid into a tank top and jeans, reached for her sweater from yesterday to pull on, then opened the door to climb off the bed and tug on her boots.
Zander had done a good job, she had to admit. The floor was clear all the way to the cabin door, the cabinets shut, the benches and stove empty. Zander dumped the last load into his crate and stowed it in the cupboard beneath the bed Rae had just been sleeping in.
The difference in the place was remarkable. The cabin, as she’d observed, had been clean, just messy. Now she could see gleaming, sealed wood, polished brass, the crisp black of the bench cushions, the flood of light through the open windows.
“Nice,” she said admiringly.
“Glad you like it. There’s food in the fridge. Fix breakfast and we’ll have it up on deck.”
Rae’s eyes widened. “Excuse me? You expect me to make breakfast for you?”
Zander swung back to her, his eyes holding irritation. “I told you, I’m not running a free hostel. I know you aren’t happy to be here, but I wasn’t asked if I was okay if they dumped you on me. We both have to suck it up. I cleaned up so you’d stop whining—now you can make me breakfast in return. I’m not your daddy, or even your sugar daddy. I’m your trainer. Got it?”
Rae raised her hands. “All right, all right. Got it.”
“Good.” Zander swung away and strode for the door. “Go light on the carbs.” He slammed himself out and was gone.
Rae listened to his boots clump on the deck above, then she heaved a sigh.
He was right—they were both stuck with each other. She either had to make the best of it or jump overboard.
Although . . . Rae ran through an idea as she brought out eggs and a rasher of bacon, fished a frying pan out of a cupboard, and started cooking.
* * *
Zander, sitting cross-legged in the sunshine on the stern deck, downed the mess of eggs and bacon, seasoned with spices he’d had in his cupboard, and drank the coffee Rae had made. The coffee was seriously good, as was the breakfast, but he decided not to tell Rae that. She needed to be a little edgy. Training to be a Guardian wasn’t going to be easy on her—hell, it wasn’t going to be easy on him.
“Zander, I was thinking.”
Rae’s tone caught his attention. Zander dropped his fork to his empty plate, set the plate on the deck, and picked up the coffee. Fresh wind blew across the stern to set the wisps of hair around Rae’s face dancing, and sun glared off the water. The clouds that had gathered last night had ended in a squall way off to the southeast, while Zander’s boat remained in the clear.
Rae sat on the deck, her back to the wall of the pilot house. Her eyes in shadow became the darkest gray, like the sea in a storm. She had a lithe but strong body—he bet she was a formidable wolf.
“Thinking is dangerous,” Zander answered when she didn’t go on.
Rae flicked her eyes to his. No submission there. In spite of having been orphaned and abandoned then raised by Felines, Rae was not afraid to pin him with her gaze. She should be—Zander was pretty high in dominance. He’d guess she was an alpha, born of alphas, even if she didn’t know it.
“You don’t actually have to train me, you know,” Rae was saying. “You can drop me off somewhere and I can . . . I don’t know. Find an apartment. Get a job. Hide my Collar. Live. Who has to know?”
Zander rested his elbows on his knees. He caught the sharpness in her voice, the restlessness, the anger. The same kinds of emotions had flowed through him all his life.
While he agreed with her, he shook his head. “It’s not that easy. Anyone looking at you is going to figure out you’re Shifter. I’ve never worn a Collar but it makes no difference. You told me I scream Shifter, and so do you. My neighbors have always been cool and didn’t turn me in. Alaskans are laid-back. They have enough to deal with fighting the weather to worry about much else.”
“So, they’ll be cool with me too, then,” Rae said. She peered at Zander closely. “You don’t want to train me. I don’t want to be here. Why do we have to do what all the Shifters want? They’d be happy if I disappeared. I didn’t ask to be a Guardian. You didn’t ask to be a healer. I say screw it and let’s just live our lives.” She finished, her body tight, her chest rising swiftly.