The Alpha's Concubine (Historical Shifter Romance) (10 page)

The huntress curled her lip, then rose to her feet and spat out a harsh-sounding comment. She turned her back on the fire and dragged Tal after her, disappearing into one of the tents.

It had been a long day, but a good one. Even Vaya's unsettling look wasn't enough to dampen the excitement Netya now felt by being in the presence of such fascinating people. For the first time in her life she was free from everything, learning the ways of a woman and experiencing things that had seemed forever beyond her reach back in the village. She was hungry for more.

Fern took them back to her tent, but explained that she would be joining some of the other young hunters for the rest of the night. The night was the time of a wolf, and she had been invited to follow Vaya's trail back to where her kills had been made so that they might continue tracking the herd she had stumbled across. One successful hunt was no reason to become complacent in times of need, and there was much glory to be had in building upon Vaya's success rather than letting it slip through their fingers.

Fern rekindled the inside fire and allowed Netya to curl up in the bed of warm furs, before wishing her a good night and slipping out through the flap of the tent.

It was strange to be on her own. Ever since meeting the Moon People she had never been left alone for long, and now at last she finally had time to let her thoughts wander as she lay there staring up at the stars through the open smoke flap. She wondered where Khelt had been that evening. Part of her had been excited to see whether he would call her back to his bed again, despite still hurting a little from the last time. She wanted to experience more of the pleasures shared between women and men. Pleasures that these people seemed to embrace so freely, without any of the mystery or reserve that surrounded the topic in her own home.

Her body tingled as she imagined firm, masculine hands running over it, massaging the soft and sensitive places that longed to be touched. She thought of Khelt's broad form looming over her, the perspiration beading on his chest and his hot breath rushing passionately against her ear.

Most of all she remembered the hot, piercing intrusion of his manhood opening up her body, and how much she now longed to experience that feeling of fullness once again. Her hand began to stray downwards until it found the tender bud between her legs that Khelt had elicited so much pleasure from. She touched it gently, and a gasp left her lips as the spot brought back the sensations of the previous night more vividly than any memory.

Her fingers moved slowly, shivers rippling over her skin as she allowed her thoughts to stray to other men, Layon, Caspian, the powerful hunters who had walked in with Vaya...

An unexpected cry left her lips, and she was forced to bury her face in the furs as she convulsed with a surge of pleasure; the same intense climax Khelt had given her in his bed. It was less heady, and did not carry her through the same peaks and ebbs that the alpha's lovemaking had accomplished, but it left her trembling and gasping all the same, her head buried in the crook of an arm as she reeled from the sensation.

A smile lit Netya's lips as she caught her breath. If these were the pleasures of a woman, she was glad to have been introduced to them.

—
8—

Among Wolves

Khelt was gone for almost another two days. The pack seemed to defer to Caspian in his absence, though little leadership seemed necessary as the group formed new hunting plans and set about the business of preserving much of their fresh kill for the winter. It was a strange time for Netya as she became acclimated to daily life among the Moon People. They slept late, many of them spending the night hours out on the plains as wolves before returning home to sleep during the day, dozing in their tents until noon. This left Netya with the camp practically to herself in the mornings. The elders who lacked the energy to spend all night out with the others were her only company, along with an occasional mother woken early by her infant. They did not engage much with Netya, though she could tell by their reactions that a few of the elders understood at least some of her language.

It was frustrating to feel so intentionally isolated, and it was during those quiet mornings that she found herself thinking most about home. More than once she wondered how far she might get across the plains before the Moon People caught up with her. Certainly not far enough. The land stretched out endlessly around them, and the knowledge that the wolves could run faster, harder, and for longer than her kept Netya prisoner far more effectively than the bars of any cage.

Still, she did not like to think of her position in those terms. She did not feel like a captive, more a guest, and she had already experienced things among the Moon People that would have compelled her to stay even without the implicit threat. In her youthful optimism, she never truly considered the possibility that she might never see her home again.

While the quiet mornings allowed Netya's mind to wander, the afternoons left her no such time for introspection. Fern was keen to take her out foraging, spending hours chattering away about old topics that became fresh and new in the company of a stranger. Netya, too, found herself responding in kind, enjoying the rare opportunity to recount the stories of her people to someone who had never heard them before. She also became aware that Fern seemed somewhat distanced from the other members of the pack her age. It was nothing compared to the isolation Netya was subjected to, but during meal times she noticed that, while many of the other pack members might occasionally come over to talk with Fern, they rarely sat with her for the whole meal.

Vaya seemed to command a lot of respect among the young men and women of the pack, especially in the wake of her successful hunt, and it was around her that the others often gathered. The imposing huntress made Netya nervous whenever she was around, but the only member of the pack that filled her with genuine unease was the den mother, Adel. It was rare that she appeared outside her cave, but when she did conversations dimmed and anxious eyes followed her wherever she went. It was subtle, perhaps not something the pack even realised they were doing, but Netya saw it clear as day. Adel commanded a level of respect and fear that seemed to outstrip that of the alpha himself. Even without asking why, she could sense the power that radiated from the tall, dark-haired woman. She walked among the Moon People as though she was striding through another world, watching them like a lofty spirit traversing their mortal landscape. Netya might have been called a witch by the other girls in jest, but Adel was a woman truly deserving of the title. Her dark eyes held an understanding of the secrets that others had glimpsed only briefly in the land of dreams and nightmares.

Thankfully the den mother did not take it upon herself to speak to Netya again, all but ignoring her presence every time she appeared to bathe or collect food that would always be eaten in private. Netya was glad. If there was one person who could have convinced her to act on her thoughts of escape, it was Adel.

At sunset on Netya's fourth day among the Moon People, Khelt returned.

He strode back into camp along with the man he had been speaking to in his den, the pair both looking weary, but satisfied. Keen to cement her good first impression—with the others as much as the alpha—Netya stood up and hurried to greet him.

Immediately she regretted the decision. Out of the corner of her eye she saw people rising to their feet in alarm. Khelt's companion stared at her incredulously, clearly shocked that she would approach the alpha in such a fashion.

Netya froze, her chest tightening as she realised her error. These were a people of customs and tradition, and while she had yet to understand much of their way of life, she did know that anything involving the alpha was steeped in a heavy sense of humility and respect. Someone with no real rank among the pack approaching him so readily clearly seemed to be a violation.

She stood there for a moment, the burning sensation at the back of her neck growing as she felt a dozen pairs of eyes watching her. Her first thought was to bow her head in deference as she had seen Fern do after being chastised, but instead she found herself looking to the alpha, wanting to see his judgement for herself.

Rather than anger, it was surprise that registered on Khelt's face. He hesitated, looking at her curiously, then before anyone could say a word he stepped forward and scooped her up in his arms, letting out a bark of laughter as he strode into the middle of the camp. He bellowed a few words in his own language, a grin on his face as he carried Netya to a seat by the fire and set her down in his lap.

"A fine greeting for a weary alpha," he said in Netya's tongue. "I told them I was glad to be reminded of what would welcome me back to my bed this night."

Netya looked around, her cheeks colouring as the momentary tension began to dissipate. The others were smiling and sharing in their alpha's mirth, clearly surprised, but reassured by their leader's good humour. Khelt leaned closer and murmured into her ear.

"Any member of my pack would not approach me so boldly. Your eagerness may get you into trouble yet."

She could only think to nod. Her heart was still beating fast, but for quite another reason now. The alpha's bare chest was warm beneath her palms, the scent of the day clinging to him as it had when she lay with him in his den. She would be his again that evening, and at last she would relive all the things she had fantasised about since his departure.

"You have made yourself at home among my pack?" Khelt questioned her.

"I have tried. Your ways are still very strange to me, but I am doing my best to learn."

"And you are content? You are not unhappy here?"

"No. Fern has been a friend to me, and your land is beautiful."

The alpha nodded, satisfied by her simple answer. He did not question her about how she was adapting to pack life again.

"Sit with me here tonight, I would enjoy spending the evening with a female by my side. Our journey was long, but tonight I will rest and enjoy the simple pleasures."

"Where did you go?" Netya asked. "Was your journey important?"

Khelt dismissed her question with a wave of his hand. "It is nothing for you to concern yourself with. Just know that our pack is safe, as are you." From his tone it was clear that he had no desire to speak further about his business of the last two days. He groaned and stretched, allowing Netya to unfasten his cloak and work the tension from his shoulders with her fingers.

A strange sense of duty came over her in Khelt's company. She imagined it was similar to how the others felt around him, but she couldn't be sure whether it was due to the alpha's natural presence or because of the role she had been given to serve him. She had spent the last few days collecting berries and helping to prepare some of the food, yes, but those were small chores compared to the work of the hunters, the mothers, the craftspeople who made clothes and tools, or the seers who spent their time in Adel's cave communing with the spirits. Netya could do none of those things, but sitting there on the alpha's broad lap, entrusted with his personal comfort and satisfaction, she finally felt that she was fulfilling a role unique to her.

She had been brought here to be the alpha's consort, and a consort she would be.

After a time Khelt eased Netya off his lap, but he kept her close by his side, an arm resting around her shoulders or waist more often than not. He was brought food and water, and Netya found herself enjoying her time spent beside him, made all the more eager by the way his palm sometimes roamed to stroke up and down the curve of her hip. Not a tender or lustful touch; that would come later, she suspected, but a pleasant reminder that he could and would lay his hands on her in a way no other man was permitted.

Once Khelt had eaten he congratulated his pack on the successful hunt in his absence, and called Vaya over to speak with him personally. For all her fire and confidence, even she seemed humbled in the presence of her alpha. Netya understood nothing but a few stray words of their conversation, but she did notice the way Vaya's eyes flicked in her direction impatiently. The huntress was uncomfortable. Could it be that she envied Netya's position? Or was it something else?

Netya watched her carefully, made confident by Khelt's presence, but she failed to grasp exactly what it was that Vaya seemed to dislike about her. She was a strange, intimidating woman, and by the time Khelt dismissed her Netya still felt that she was no closer to understanding the huntress.

"She would try to rise above even the men, that one," Khelt said once Vaya had departed. "And if her victories continue, one day she will. A pack needs strong wolves like her."

"Would she become den mother? That is the highest rank of a female, is it not?"

Khelt snorted in amusement. "The den mother is a seer of wisdom and insight; the great powers of a woman. She embodies that which allows all women to thrive and stand as equals among their pack, just as the alpha must possess the greatest strength and cunning of all men. Vaya may be a woman, but she does not bear the power of a den mother."

"Instead she bears the power of a man?"

Khelt nodded. "I see the way you watch her, and the way you watch the others. I think you see much, Netya."

"Fern told me something similar."

Khelt chuckled. "That," he said, "is the power a den mother must hold." He picked up her dark braid of hair, massaging it between his thumb and forefinger. "Had you been born of our people, perhaps that would have been your destiny one day."