MUSH! - 4. Chapter 4

“You are fucking kidding me?!” Mak snarled, clenching and unclenching his fist, because there was nothing close to hand to throw and if he broke another Christmas ornament, his grandmother was going to murder him. “They came in third?”

“And it was a beautiful thing.” Kova smiled. “You should be proud of your little brother Mak. A better lead dog I never did see.”

Mak scowled at his uncle, snarled at his grandfather without really looking at him and stormed off outside. When his grandfather had first come to report the going’s on of the race, Mak had safely and confidently assumed Socco’s deluded plan had failed. He would not have to make good on his promise, and they would be back to running mail and deliveries across the snow in a few days. Things would go on, just as they were.

Because the way they are is working so fucking well…

Mak scowled at his inner voice. A little part of him missed his new house. The Sabaakax family home, where all of them were spending Christmas, was where he had grown up as a child, and where he had lived permanently until his mating with Kipa had become official. They’d been young, barely sixteen, and Mak had taken all of his meagre possessions and left the house of his parents to go and live with his mate. He had missed his brothers, at first, and living with Kipa’s brother had raised problems all of its own. Mak would have liked to be home, back in his and Kipa’s enormous bed, but this victory would make living with Socco even more unbearable.

He and Socco had never gotten along, and Mak was smart enough to recognise he had always been jealous of his next eldest cousin. Socco was smart, quick, funny: the littler ones looked up to him. It riled him, as a cub, that his youngest brother, who should have adored him, loved Socco and worshipped him from pretty much the first moment such a thing had been recognisably possible. Dinahei had followed Socco around like a lost puppy, and Mak had hated it. When it had become clear it was not just Socco, but Natu too, Mak had done everything he could to try and ensure his little brother turned out the way Mak, their parents and their grandparents though he should. To that end, he had fought Socco about everything and anything. He had been appalled, but not surprised, when Dinahei had been discovered with the two of them, each of the three giving into their base impulses. Mak refused to believe it had been as pure an intention of mating and unbridled desire as his own clumsy yet wonderful fumbling’s with Kipa.

Mak trod over the snow in the yard, stamping over the foot prints of dogs and men. He could hear the sounds of the sled being put away out front, but he didn’t dare go that way. Socco would be understandably proud of his feat, full of bursting joy for the idea they would all race together, and Mak would be seized by the desire to wipe the smugness from his face. He headed for the trees, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his thick hoodie and wishing he had a scarf. The weather was lovely, and Mak stopped again to wish Kipa was with him and they could take a walk together in the snow.

The ground under the thick pines held only a smattering of snow, a thin white sprinkle over grey rocks and thick iron-hard brown earth. Mak walked through the thick trunks, the lower branches skimming around shoulder height, and trailed his fingers through the soft needles as he walked. He loved being outside. Dinahei always accused his older brother of being ‘too human’ because he quite liked living on the outskirts of town just down the road from the jewellery shop their mother Luava ran with Socco and Kipa’s mother. Dinahei thought his brother didn’t care as much about running, but it wasn’t true.

Mak loved to run, lived for it. Life on the trails was so much simpler, cleaner, and easier. Out on the trails, they ate, they slept, and they ran. They all ran and they all loved it. There was no delight, other than being in contact with Kipa, no delight at all greater than running with the tug tight behind him. Sometimes Mak felt as though he could run forever, and the longer they were away, the better it felt when they got home. But already, he was itching a little to get away. Mak stopped in the forest and looked about, scenting the air with inferior human senses. There was no one around, not close enough to worry about, but it was still five degrees below freezing. He was going to have to be quick. Mak untied his shoes and pulled off his socks, still standing in the remains of the boots as he shucked his jumper, un-clipped the fly of his jeans, winced as the chill air hit his now receding privates and snarled his way through the change.

Bones broke, moved, sealed themselves before the marrow could leak; muscles grew, shrank, reformed; sinews stretched and tore; veins tied themselves in knots; his heart beat so fast for a moment his blood raced too fast to do anything on route; skin stretched, ears moved, teeth lengthened. And then Mak shook out his thick liver and white fur and flexed his paws against the hard ground.

Everything was easier as a husky: it bore repeating. Mak scented the air, finding the fragile nuances of animals in the wilderness, the delicious rich sap of pine, the clean all-encompassing whiteness of the snow. The husky nosed the ground, snuffling, feeling the texture of the hard earth with his tiny whiskers. There was enough grip to give good purchase, he could run fast if he wanted. Mak jumped up against the bark of the nearest tree and clawed until he’d exposed the smallest patch of smooth pale wood and sniffed greedily. There really was no place like the forests of home. Mak trotted swiftly into the deeper woods, tail waving from side to side as he explored the territory by himself.

When he was a husky, Mak found he minded the little things less. Socco still annoyed him, but it was the black and white husky’s inability to focus on the trail rather than run after elk and snowshoe hare which he found irritating. Would he rather not hear the sounds of lust and desire which his little brother made under the ministrations of his cousin and brother in law? Of course, but it didn’t matter. They were dogs, they needed each other. Husky life was simple. You needed contact, and it was there. You needed love, food, water, shelter. You asked, you took. It was easy. Mak sometimes wished he’d gotten to know Socco when they were older; that their family hadn’t been as close and they’d met properly once they’d gotten their fur. It would have been a relationship based on play fights and running, and maybe he wouldn’t have minded as much when Socco and Natu had turned his little brother gay.

Mak took off through the forest, heading up the slope and away from the house. Where there was snow, he avoided it, not wanting to leave footprints, and kept his nose close to the ground, ears laid back. He clipped neatly along until he was within scenting distance of the ranger’s station. The ground switched and the rocks rose in a sheer cliff, the ground littered with boulders and small stones. Then he turned tail, pointed his nose down the slope, and sprang.

Mak loved to run, adored it, and had he hated Socco less as a child they would have been a pair matched in their love of racing. Mak hated the idea of racing purely because Socco liked it. It had been that way all through their childhood. Everything Socco loved, Mak hated. This meant he didn’t like Natu one little bit. The grey brindled husky bugged him more than he could possibly explain. He hated Socco, and it was simple, easy and well defined. But Natu irritated him, like a burr trapped in the fur under his foreleg or a stone in a boot that you don’t have time to get out. Having Natu around made him snappish and annoyed. Mak doubted he would have been fine with his little brother being gay if it hadn’t been for Natu, but the grey husky’s involvement only made things more confusing.

Natu was neither dominant nor submissive. He wouldn’t roll over or show his belly, but he didn’t care about fighting. Mak and Socco fought each other, if not literally, all the time. Natu didn’t fight, he just stood his ground. He said he loved Dinahei and Socco equally, as though such a thing were actually possible, and refused to be swayed by any arguments at all. Mak pushed the thoughts out of his mind as he raced downhill.

He chose his footing carefully but instinctually, his firm paw pads finding the best ground, claws gripping the frozen earth, avoiding sharp stones and twigs which would stab or slice at him. Mak knew he was the fastest dog on the team, which didn’t mean anything other than he was strong and fast. There was no way he wanted to be up front in the lead like his mate did. Kipa was a good leader, but as much as he hated to admit it, Mak could already tell the little blue husky was a better lead dog than his mate was. Kipa lead by sheer force of will, running ahead of the team with her tail held high, a combination of flirting and dangerous teeth and claws. Dinahei was smarter at leading, although he didn’t yet have the intrinsic knowledge of exactly how hard to pull and when, but he was smart, quick, brave, sure footed. Mak knew his brother had many fine qualities. He might step on the kid a lot for choosing to massively subvert the natural law of their universe and play submissive for two dogs neither of whom Mak particularly liked, but Dinahei was still his little brother, and he loved him dearly.

As the liver and white husky neared the house, he slowed imperceptibly, changed pace to running gallop, landed on the last hummock before the snow with both front feet and sprang into the whiteness of the garden, landing with all his force on his front feet, half burying himself into the deep drift of snow. He wished there had been grouse in the fluffy powder, something to snap his jaws on besides the wet snow. Mak buried his face in the drift and burrowed underneath with his nose and shoulders. In the tiny glowing pale cavern he huffed and laid his head on his paws.

“And what exactly do you expect to find in there buddy?” Suda’s presence above him was evident in the weight of his paws in the snow. Mak burrowed backwards quickly, shaking snow out of his fur to look up at the brown brindled dog standing over him. Suda’s yellow eyes twinkled. “We need to talk.”

Mak sighed and laid back his ears. He didn’t especially want to talk, but he had missed the company of his family all morning. He stuck his tail in the air and barked.

“Come play Suda!” Mak’s ears perked up and his waggled his rear end in a puppyish fashion. “Come on…”

The brown brindled husky mimicked his position for a second, and then sprang. Mak turned and snapped playfully at Suda’s belly. He jumped on top of his cousin as the dog rolled in the snow. They played like puppies, rolling and snapping jumping on each other, growling and barking until the drift of snow was a total mess. Mak pushed his cousin with the top of his head and stood patiently while Suda chewed gently on his left ear. Once Suda had decided his cousin was sufficiently well-connected, he stopped, rubbed against his fur and sat down in the rough mess they’d made of the snow.

“You missed lunch.” Suda flicked his tail around his feet and rubbed one fore-paw over his muzzle. “What’s up Mak?”

“I dunno.” Mak paced a tight little circle in the snow, tamping the powder down until it was smooth. “I needed to go for a run.”

“Well hell little bud, you could’ve done that this morning.” Suda kept one ear trained on his cousin. “We ran a good line there, a tight tug all the way, good snow, nice route. You’d have liked it.”

“I know.” Mak stamped his front paws angrily into the hardened snow. Suda was right, of course he would have liked it, a combination of running at speed and being competitive, it would have been perfect. “How was Dinahei?”

Suda raised an eyebrow spot at him and twitched an ear.

“You care? I’m shocked.”

The liver and white husky growled low.

“He is my brother!”

“Well maybe you should start treating him like one? Christ Mak, if I treated my brother even half as bad as you treat yours he’d have had my eye out years ago.” Suda laid both ears back against his skull. “Dinahei did great, he ran a good race. Kid’s got good feet.”

“And you came in third.” Mak recognised his friend had overstepped the boundary between healthy banter and rudeness, but he also knew he himself was in the wrong. Suda was right, and Mak was lucky. If he’d ever picked on Kinai like that, he’d be wearing scars. Dinahei acted like he didn’t care, but Mak knew that wasn’t true either.

“And I think that was only because the run wasn’t long enough. We’re distance dogs at heart. But I’ll tell you what, Dinahei wanted to win, you could tell. He threw us up the last straight like we were being chased by the devil himself.” Suda flicked his tail back and forth happily. “He can pick the good ground well enough and he knows how to take a corner. You should be proud.”

“I suppose we’re racing.” Mak huffed. “Fuck.”

“Don’t be like that Mak. I’ve seen those books at your place. And I know they don’t belong to Kipa. She doesn’t dog ear them like you do.” Mak hid his nose under his paws as Suda spoke. “You like the idea of racing.”

“I do not.”

“No, you just own half a dozen books about sled-dog racing for fun…” Suda rolled his eyes. “One day you and Socco are gonna get over yourselves and realise you could actually enjoy each other’s company.”

Mak huffed. As far as he was concerned, he and Socco were never going to see eye to eye, but it didn’t mean Suda wasn’t right about the books, or the fact Mak was downright jealous he hadn’t run in the race. They could have entered with a bigger team, maybe placed higher in the rankings. Mak was proud to be a Sabaakax, and it had been a generation or more since the family had been active in the racing world. He wanted them to do well if they were going to do this thing at all. They had a reputation at stake.

“We’d better do well at this damn thing Suda.”

“Why’d you think we got Socco to mush?” Suda stood up, shaking out his fur. “We’ve gotta do well at this Mak, and you’re a damn good wheel dog. I ain’t running without you again.” He flicked an ear and gave Mak a particular look of intensity. “You’ve gotta get over this problem with Socco dude. He’s gonna be in charge and Dinahei’s gonna be in front, and you’re gonna have to be cool with it.”

“Suda…” Mak growled. “I can control my temper.”

“For the next three months?” Suda shook his head. “Go in there and make peace Mak. It’s still Christmas time. Take advantage of that fact.”

Mak huffed again, rubbed his wedge shaped head against Suda’s thick neck in some motion of non-verbal agreement and headed indoors. He made sure to rub his feet and legs on the rough and deliciously scratchy rug inside the back door, removing all the remaining snow and dirt from his paw pads. He’d abandoned his clothes in the woods, but there were always bits of clothing around the house: shirts hanging on coat hooks, folded coats and jumpers on side tables, paired socks on bookshelves, jeans masquerading as cushions. Mak stole a pair of grey sweatpants from under the hall table and yawned as he changed forms before getting dressed. He ran his fingers through his hair, the same deep rich red liver colour as his fur, and wandered barefoot into the second lounge looking for socks to defend his feet from the cold stone tile in the kitchen. Missing lunch was no small issue, and his stomach rumbled.

Mak was proud of the way he looked. He kept his hair neat, short back and sides, an inch or so on the top. He was tall like his father, and had the famous Sabaakax metabolism and a not-inconsequential physique from spending much of his time running. Now he tied the cord of the slightly too large sweats tight against his muscled lower abdomen and pulled the on socks he’d found rolled up in the half empty fruit basket and headed for the kitchen. Considering the number of people who ate in the house and cooked in the kitchen, many people would have expected the place to be a complete mess, but the Sabaakax family kitchen was spotlessly clean. The thick wooden surfaces were clear of mess and wiped down, and there were only half a dozen items sitting on the big draining board alongside the two deep porcelain sinks. Mak put them away without looking and grabbed a heavy spruce chopping board and went about assembling a smorgasbord lunch. There was left over roasted chicken in the massive fridge, and Mak chewed on the only remaining drumstick while he sliced bread into doorstop style slices and spread them with mayonnaise. There were the remains of a cured pork joint in the fridge too, it had been originally served at some point before they’d arrived back from the mail run, so Mak layered that on top of the mayonnaise and added thick yellow mustard. There was some left over stuffing from the Christmas roast, so he had that too, and grabbed the end of a jar of pickled onions and kicked the fridge shut with his foot.

He took his prize into the second lounge and slumped into one of the slightly dead sofas. Furniture got retired to the second lounge when it was too damaged or too chewed to be used by guests. Mak stretched out and wolfed down the first half of his sandwich without stopping to taste his food. He thought about what Suda had said to him.

It was true, Dinahei was going to lead. From now right up until the point where they pulled into downtown Nome, his little brother was going to be the dog running out in front. Mak huffed to himself as he ate pickles with his thick fingers. He liked it when his mate ran out in front, because Kipa had a wonderful grey tipped tail and a quick trot about her. But she didn’t keep the tugs tight like Dinahei did. There was no denying his little brother was the best choice for lead dog, but Mak wished it just wasn’t so apparent their musher burned for the kid in such an obvious manner. People were going to be able to tell. In between chewing through his sandwich Mak realised he was no longer totally alone. He swallowed noisily.

“Hello Dinahei.” Mak folded his arms across his bare chest.

“Hey Mak.” The teenager shrugged, hands in the pockets of his jeans. “Did you have a nice morning?”

Mak looked his little brother up and down. Dinahei was scruffy from the race and subsequent shower, his bluish hair damp and sticking up in spikes. Unlike the rest of them, Dinahei had a little patch of white in the front where the tip of his mask would have ended. It made him even more unusual. Dinahei stood with his feet together on the area rug in front of the fire, looking small, sheepish and as un-leader like as it was possible to be. Mak knew he was going to regret asking the question, but he did anyway.

“How was the race?”

“It was amazing!” Dinahei sunk gracefully into a sitting position on the rug, his hands already becoming vast and expressive. “We ran hard and the weather was great. Everyone pulled really well and we came in third. I never thought it could be so much fun. There was this other team, Hansen somebody-or-other and he had this stupid flirty lead bitch thought she could distract me and boy was she pissed when it didn’t work!”

“Hansen?” Mak stemmed his brother’s excited flow with a palm. “Bobby Hansen was racing? And you beat him?”

“Yup.” Dinahei’s invisible tail wagged. “And he was sure he was going to beat us. I wish you could have seen his face Mak.”

“You know who he is right? His dad owns the big outdoor store on the east side of town.” Mak rubbed his shoulder. “It would probably be better if he liked us. Try not to rub it in.”

“Why?” Dinahei blinked twice, his pale blue eyes shining. “We don’t need his help to race.”

Mak bit back a snarl. Every now and then it was easy to forget Dinahei was just a kid, unfortunately now was not one of those times.

“Have you any idea what it is you and that idiot boyfriend of yours are proposing we do?” When Dinahei didn’t reply, Mak shook his head and stood. He preferred to be able to pace up and down when he was ranting. “To run over a thousand miles with only ten dogs we’re going to need all the help we can get!”

“But we’re Sabaakax!” Dinahei was on his feet too, his tight body thrumming in anger. “We’re shifters! We can do this by ourselves, it’s just running.”

“You’re such a child! And Socco is fucking insane and ignorant if he thinks you guys can do this alone. We have supplies to think about, dog meat, harnesses, probably a new sled. There’s the distance to cover, we’ll need a cooker, someone will have to make booties and we’ll have to ship stuff to all the checkpoints. And we still have to qualify.”

Dinahei gnashed his teeth.

“You’re impossible! You don’t want us to race so you won’t even try!” The little white and blue husky growled low. “You’ve never wanted to race, and you think it’s stupid. I wish we could run it without you!”

Mak snarled. Sometimes the desire to beat his younger brother senseless was nearly overwhelming. The teenager had not a thought for his body language, all hard lines and bright teeth, but Mak resisted and simply clenched his fist at his side.

“Oh could you be any more of a child? You’re so bewitched by him you can barely see past your own nose!”

“I love him!” Dinahei’s narrow body vibrated with anger. “I love them both!”

“As if such a thing is actually possible!” Mak wondered how they had suddenly come full circle back to the only argument they ever had. One day they were going to fight like this and it would end in blood as well as tears. “You need to grow up Dinahei. You can’t stay their puppy forever.”

“You pig.” Dinahei responded by shifting forms to stand shivering into his fur. “I hate you. You’re not my brother.”

As he turned tail and stormed off, Mak found his clenched fist slamming into the wall. The wall was solid wood three inches thick and didn’t give at all and Mak fell back clutching his hand and swearing colourfully.

“What’s going on?” The noise had brought several of the family rushing in to see what the matter was, but it was his father-in-law who spoke first. Sighai looked confused and even angrier as he read the scent trails in the air. “What happened?”

“What have you done?” Natu’s voice was hard and sharp, his yellow eyes acidic.

“Nothing!”

“Nothing? The boy I love is in floods of tears!” Natu snapped back. His hair bristled, hackles that he didn’t have rising with the level of vitriol in the room. “What did you say to him?”

“You are stupid to put your faith in Socco to run this race without any preparation. Someone is going to get hurt.”

“You are in a damn minute.” Socco’s voice carried and Mak snapped around to see the big grey and white husky standing four square on the area rug. Socco’s half malamute genes made him imposing and huge when the rest of them were human. “How dare you say those things to him?”

“Because I’m right!” Mak shouted. He was clutching his hand, the one which had hit the wall, because his knuckles hurt and pain was starting to cloud over his mind. “You haven’t planned this Socco. You have no idea what you’re getting yourselves in for!”

“You promised to support us!”

“And I will if you get you’re head outta the snow! You cannot do this alone Socco.”

“Enough of this fighting boys.” Tana cut through the tension in the room and took Mak’s upper arm with a firm grip, he saw his aunt coming, and didn’t lash out. “Thank heavens we’re all going home tomorrow before someone loses an eye. Come on pup, you’re hurt, let’s get that hand fixed up.”

“My hand is fine.” Mak huffed. He still hadn’t broken eye contact with the big dog that stood in the centre of the room. Any moment now, the glare was going to become an all-out challenge. Anysie stepped through their line on sight.

“You’re not fine Mak.” She said gently, and when her mother raised his hand he growled at the sharp stabbing pain which shot through his arm.

“You’ve broken at least one bone pup. Come on.”

Mak half snarled, but another tug on his arm and the pain blossoming up the limb sufficiently distracted him enough to be led away by his aunt to the kitchen. Everything happened at the big wooden dining table, and the clean wooden surface where Mak had made lunch not ten minutes previously was now wiped down again and used as a medical surface to deal with his hand. He’d clearly broken one of the metacarpal bones, and centre of his hand was going an awful blackish-purple colour.

“Oh you’ve gone and done it now Mak. This is gonna hurt like hell.”

“I know.” Mak sighed, gripped the bench with his good hand as his aunt lined up the hand ready to set the break. “It’s not like it’s the first time.”

Tana looked levelly across the table at him. She was small, pale like her daughter, but with the same deep brown eyes Urajak had handed down to many of his family. Mak could tell as easily as speaking she was disappointed with him. It was in no way the first time that he had ended up with injuries, many of which were caused by his own frustration. She had re-set minor bones before, helped to re-locate shoulders after he and Socco had fought, and stitched up cuts on both their brows and cheekbones after one memorable dog fight when they were barely seventeen. She shook her head sadly.

“You have got to learn to control your temper Mak. You’re too old to be getting into these sorts of fights.”

“He never listens to me! Ow!” Mak used his good hand to rub his face. The slap had stung, but it had been light, no more than a tap to bring him out of his stubbornness. Tana’s nostrils flared.

“And when was the last time you listened to him? Hold still.”

Mak barely had time to grab the bench seat again before she took his knuckles in one hand, wrist in the other and pulled them apart sharply. The flash of pain was like a flare inside his eyes, hot and frightening, and Mak found himself wanting to be sick. He grit his teeth and grunted.

“Better.” Tana rubbed one of her many salves on the bruised area and began to wrap his hand. “Shift tomorrow morning and you should be all healed up. Running’s gonna hurt for a little bit though.”

“Thanks Tana.”

“You know, the best way to thank me would be to stop injuring yourself.” Tana gathered up her stuff and stood. “But I guess it’s inevitable. Men…” She walked away, shaking her head and Mak stayed at the table to stare at his broken hand. He’d gone and done it again. Every time they spoke, he and his littlest brother ended up at the same place, and every time, somebody ended up getting hurt.

*

“Hey babe.” Kipa shut the door with a soft click as she entered Mak’s old bedroom, the one he’d lived in as a child. “How’s the hand?”

“Feels like I punched a wall.” Mak tried, automatically, to clench his fist and grunted in pain. “Fuck that hurts.”

“That’s because you broke a bone punching a wall babe.” Kipa turned as she stripped, dumping all her clothes in a pile by the bed. “At least you didn’t actually punch your brother.”

“I have never hit him you know.”

“I know.” Kipa rolled her eyes, beginning the long task of brushing out her hair. “That’s why my brother hasn’t actually tried to kill you yet. Can you imagine?”

“Hmph.” Mak turned away, back to his book. His excellent metabolism and the awesome properties of shifter healing would allow the bone to set overnight now that the break was realigned. When he shifted in the morning, his bones would break in the manner they naturally did, and the action would allow the newly broken bone to refuse, making it as strong as it always had been. The risk was to change with a broken bone which was not properly set, because there was no guarantee it would grow into the right shape and one might end up with ends of sheared limbs poking out of their skin, or into an organ. Few things were more annoying than having to wait while healing up, and Mak recognised the need to stop being self-destructive. If he injured himself close to the Iditarod they wouldn’t be running at all. Mak did not want to help his little brother form a closer alliance with the two men who he claimed he loved, but he’d made a promise, in front of their alpha, and there was no way he’d be breaking that.

Kipa slipped into bed beside him and Mak wrapped an arm around her shoulders automatically, but without using the damaged hand. Kipa’s body was a contradiction of soft and hard, and Mak made a little thrumming noise of pleasure in his throat as she snuggled into his side, using his shoulder as her pillow, her squishy breasts pressed up against his rib cage. He dropped his arm around her taut waist and smiled. The Sabaakax girls all had the sorts of physiques which human’s dreamt of, strong lean bodies created by running and running hard, paired with the lovely smoothness of their skin and the sorts of hips that made the mother’s good at bearing children. His wife kissed his collar bone softly and dragged the quilt up over her nude form.

“How many times have you read that book now babe?”

“Only twice through.” Mak laid the book on his chest in order to turn the page with only one hand. “I like the stories.”

“You’re a strange one sweetie.” Kipa re-settled herself. She was fidgety, both when human and wearing her fur, and on the trails she would remake her bed many times before finally falling asleep. Mak wrapped his arm tighter around her for a moment until she stilled.

“Hush you.” He kissed her forehead. “I love you babe.”

“Love you too Mak. I can’t wait to go home tomorrow.” Kipa rolled onto her back, burrowing into the mattress. “I miss our room. G’night hun.”

“Night sweetie. I’m gonna read a bit OK?”

“Sure. Wake me up if you want ‘kay?”

As Kipa rolled over, Mak lifted the edge of the quilt to take in the view, the long slope of his mate’s back, the furrow of her spine before the lovely roundness of her butt. Tempting… Mak dropped the quilt and turned back to his book.

What Suda had said was completely true, and he loved the idea of racing, enjoyed the stories of men and dogs battling against the wilderness, racing against time to bring life and relief to towns stricken on the outer coast, past the Interior. Stories of heroic lead dogs filled the stories of their history, and shifters mated just as easily with dogs as with humans, and Mak knew there were dogs in those stories who were related to his bloodline: Siberian huskies who had been shifters and adored their mushers, and dogs who had been nothing but dogs, but whom had run and pulled for love and nothing more than the promise of love in return.

Hurricane was a malamute who had bred long ago into his mother-in-laws bloodline, famous for his steely nerve. He and his human, a native Athabaskan named Black Luk, had been hauling a hundred thousand dollars in gold bricks across Eyak Lake in the late spring when the ice had become thin. Many men would have panicked, many dogs would have frozen in their tracks and with the sled runners sinking an inch into the new, wet ice. It would have spelled death for all of them. With barely a word from Black Luk, Hurricane had dropped his tail, picked up speed and inspired every dog to pull a totally tight tug across the lake, even as the water seeped up from below and drenched their paws. As they’d hit the centre of the lake, Hurricane had yapped and forced every dog to jump into their collars in order to race across the wet ice. To linger would have meant a quick and watery tomb, but Hurricane kept putting on speed even though the sled was bogging down and hauled himself and his team, his human and the payload all the way to safety. Black Luk told the story that when they were safe and sound on the shore he had looked back and found the tracks of the runners were as straight as if they had been laid out by a surveyor. The man would tell anyone who would listen that if his stoic lead dog had panicked, they would all be drowned in Eyak Lake.

The sweepstake racer Scotty Allen had used a lead dog called Dubby who had saved his life when he had gone through the ice when walking ahead of his team. The rest of the team had tried to back off, not wanting to get too close to the break, but Dubby had held firm and forced the team to circle around, running close to the edge before swinging around so Allen could grab the sled as it came past. Allen had said afterwards the dog was the greatest ‘little general’ he had ever known.

And then there was Togo, the lead dog who had taken Leonard Seppala and his team two hundred and sixty one miles to race life-saving serum to the tiny town of Nome. Many Siberian huskies could claim him somewhere in their pedigree, and Mak was no different. He was, to Mak, without a doubt the greatest sled dog who had ever lived. He had been a born leader, or a born tyrant, a trouble maker right from the beginning, and had run lead in his first team at only eight months old when as a puppy he had escaped and followed Seppala on the trail. The dog had run beside a veteran called Russky for seventy five miles straight, and on his very first day in the harness. The little husky had been some kind of Alaskan god of the tug. Born to lead, he won many races for Seppala and led the team on every important expedition for the twelve years he had run. They had crossed the ice factory of The Norton Sound twice in quick succession.

The brown and grey dog had saved all their lives on the open expanse of ice. They had turned to run back towards Nome after collecting the lifesaving serum from Ivanhoff. The little lead dog had felt a crack in the ice in the dead of night and torn towards land at top speed. When he balked and sprung back onto his teammates, his human had shouted in anger and walked up the length of the twenty strong team to find out what was going on. Six feet ahead was an open channel of water and the team were stuck on an ice floe. They drifted for eleven hours, and it was Togo who had sensed the shift in the wind, the drift of the ice which would bring them back to land. Mak would never admit it to anyone, but every time he read of the little dog’s fantastic death defying swim to reach the shore and help haul his team, his human and the ice floe to the safety of the shore, he found his eyes wet and painful with the desire to cry with pride. One small dog, his ancestor, had done all of that.

And maybe if you let him, His inner voice said softly, Dinahei just might turn into that sort of dog too.

Mak snapped his book shut, dropped it onto the floor and flicked the light switch as he yawned, rolling onto his side to spoon against the body of the woman he loved with all his heart. A few times he had tried to stop and examine the feelings his internal voice gave him when he thought about his little brother, but he didn’t like too. He knew it was irrational, because he didn’t hate Socco and Natu for being gay, he just hated that his little brother was gay.

As though it reflects in any way upon you… Mak sighed, and then inhaled the soft, warm scent of Kipa’s hair. It calmed him quickly, knowing his mate was safe and sound in his arms, knowing there was no one who could actually see inside his head.

He was scared. It was simple as the distinct liver and white markings of his fur. Scared of what his little brother being gay meant, scared of whatever it was he, Natu and Socco shared. Mak had never understood how Dinahei could claim to love two people equally. Mak loved his wife more than anything in the entire universe. More than running, more than food, more even than snow or hunting or family or fire: Mak loved his wife. Kipa was the centre of his entire universe, and he was certain that without her presence by his side, he would have destroyed himself long ago, probably in some meaningless petty fight. Mak had gotten himself into more brawls, and not just with Socco, than he cared to admit to.

But Dinahei said he loved both Natu and Socco just as much as each other, and the concept was as alien to Mak as sandy beaches and sweltering temperatures at Christmas, or indeed at any other time of year. To Mak’s mind it was simply not possible to love two people the same. He didn’t even love his parents just the same. He knew he loved his mother more, because she was a true Sabaakax, a shifter like him, and they had more in common than he and his human father did. He had decided it meant Dinahei was lying, which meant Natu and Socco were also lying. The three way relationship, the bond they claimed they had, was nothing more than greed and feral hormones. Mak realised he was grinding his teeth in the dark and stopped the train of thought. It was no good trying to work out what was going on in his brother’s head, all he could hope to do was make him realise how mislead he was. Preferably before the three of them moved in together, caused a stir and dragged the family name through slush.

*

Mak opened one eye at the cold touch on his hand, and looked over the sleeping form of his wife to see a pair of deep brown eyes glowing faintly in the darkness. He blinked twice, just to check he wasn’t dreaming of his family being present, like he often did when they were out on the trail, and then got up carefully. Kipa rolled over into the warm space he’d left, curled up and murmured something soft and indistinct. Mak pulled his sweats back on, being careful of his still-bruised hand, and followed his great-grandfather out of the room. There was nowhere left in the house that wasn’t being occupied by someone sleeping, and Mak found himself donning boots, coat and gloves and heading back outside into the deep chill of the Alaskan winter. He cleared the snow from the big wooden picnic table, the only item of furniture left out all year round because it was simply too heavy to move, and sat on its surface with his feet propped up on the snow drift. The temperature had plummeted, and now a thin frozen layer covered the fluffy white world. Ujarak jumped up onto the cleared surface beside him, and sat with his tail around his feet.

“You’re going to yell at me again aren’t you Gran-papa?” Mak sighed, wrapping his arms around his torso. Despite donning some outdoor clothes, he was not dressed for an Alaskan winter. “I’m sorry about the wall.”

Ujarak flicked an ear backwards in a single dismissive gesture.

“I am not angry about the wall boy. I’m more concerned about your hand, and your temper.” He sighed. “About what did you fight?”

“Same old, same old.” Mak waggled his good hand in the air.

“He will end up hating you Mak. They all will.”

“They hate me already.” Mak made a sweeping gesture across the landscape before them. “It doesn’t change anything.”

“You’re wrong.” Ujarak’s voice was stern now, his ears straight up. His gaze never left that of his great-grandson. “You’re brother does not truly hate you, not yet. He still holds love for you in his heart. He can’t help it, you are brothers. But if you continue to bait and taunt him at every turn, that spark of love will turn to a shard of ice. He will hate you with every fibre of his being. You might have broken whatever relationship you and Socco could have had long ago, for which you are both culpable. Do not let this anger tear you and your brother’s apart.”

“But Gran-papa…” Mak found himself staring into the middle distance, seeing nothing. “How can… what he says cannot be.”

Ujarak was silent and still for so long Mak wondered if he was ever going to reply at all. Eventually the hairs all along his spine bristled, and the silver dog looked at him with an expression soft and gentle as the morning sun in spring seen through the mist rising from the steaming ground. He smiled gently, and laid his head across Mak’s chest, thrumming against his body, warming him.

“I do not pretend to understand pup, but that does not mean I do not believe it. Strange things happen everywhere, and there is much goes on in the world Down There I fail to comprehend. That does not mean it is a lie. Dinahei says he loves Socco and Natu equally, and they all say the same of each other. It can only be true, because why on earth would they make it up? Many other things would give them a simpler life.” Ujarak nuzzled his great-grandson gently, his long muzzle pressed against his neck. “You promised to run with them, and you will.”

“And will you do what you promised? Get them a house?” Mak swallowed. He did not like to think of his little brother succumbing to the will of two stronger dogs, far away from any help his family could provide. “Gran-papa, you can’t. He’s still a child.”

“Might I remind you that you were married by his age and living with your mate, and it was all we could do to make you wait that long?”

Mak remembered the fights, the heated rows especially with his parents and Kipa’s parents about their mating, about who would live where, about the fact they were too young and too inexperienced in the world to make this decision. Sighai particularly was concerned about his child mating with her second cousin, and for weeks had maintained the position she had not tried hard enough to find a good mate and settled for the first boy who couldn’t keep his dick in his pants. Mak had punched a wall then too. It had had the same effect as this most recent injury.

“Socco has waited patiently.” Ujarak continued. “They all have in that regard. And they were ready to be together a long time ago. Imagine for a moment every night you had to leave your mate, walk across town and sleep in a different bed, by yourself. Not to wake up with Kipa in your arms or share your meals with her. Imagine how much you would hate it.”

“It’s not the same.” Mak mumbled.

“Isn’t it? Try telling them that.”

“I do!”

“And just look where it’s got you Mak.” Ujarak yawned, a creaking whine like an old hinge. “You are helping to drive this family apart, when you should be helping to bind it together. Think hard pup, you need to try and see things a little differently.”

Mak could have argued, but there was no point. Urajak was alpha. At the end of the day, his word was law.

“Yes sir.”

The old husky licked his cheek, his tongue dry and smooth against Mak’s two-day stubble.

“There, there pup. I know you’ve got a good heart in there somewhere. You just need to find it again. Goodnight Mak.”

“Night Gran-papa.” Mak stared after the departing figure of his alpha as he trotted swiftly through the snow. Mak shivered in his thin jumper and stared at the sky through the fog of his own breath. His great-grandfather was right, and he knew it. Dinahei still liked him, still wanted to get him involved in things. He had been excited to tell him about the race. If he wasn’t careful, he was going to lose his little brother, and likely half his family, for good.