The Alpha's Concubine (Historical Shifter Romance) (25 page)

"No," Khelt said sharply. "I will not have her near Adel night and day. She is already afraid of her."

"Then either she learns to hunt, or she will have to wait until she becomes one of the mothers."

Khelt muttered to himself, making a show of knocking the snow from his clothing before he finally responded. "I will allow her to hunt if she wishes, then. Once the snows end she may join the others."

Caspian nodded, satisfied. He did not know how severe the disagreement between the alpha and his concubine had been, but it always helped Khelt to have a plan of action in mind. Then, at least, he would stop sitting out in the cold freezing himself to death.

"And of course, there is one more thing you must do to make this right with her," he said, putting a hand on the alpha's shoulder as he stood up.

"What is that?"

"The next time you see her, apologise."

—
20—

My Father's Spear

The following day Netya began taking Adel's herbs with her morning meals. At first it began in spite. She was still angry at Khelt, and denying him his heir, even if it was just for a short time, was the only power she had over the alpha. But her frustrations were short-lived, and once the hurt of Khelt's rejection had faded she was able to put her negative feelings to rest. He even took her aside a few days later, giving her what she assumed was an attempt at an apology. It was clearly hard for the man to admit when he was wrong, but it was endearing to hear him try.

"Winter is a hard time for all of us, even me," he said. "And I may have let my wolf's temper take control for a moment. It will not happen again, but remember—there are matters I would prefer not to share with you. I will leave the alpha outside my den for as long as you agree not to invite him back in. Let the time we share together be pleasant for both of us."

She had accepted his apology, even though it contained the clear message that he had no intention of baring his soul to her in the way she wanted. It was hard for her to justify raising the topic again after that, even though she was more curious than ever to find out what had driven the wedge between him and Adel.

She still preferred passing the weeks of winter in Khelt's bed rather than in the noisy cave with the rest of the group, where several times she was forced to bear intimate witness to the confrontations between agitated pack members. Every time a pair of snarling wolves faced off she tried to muster the same enthusiasm as her companions, but once teeth had broken skin and blood was spilling across the cave floor her discomfort returned. All the reassurance in the world was not enough to stop her thinking about how such vicious injuries would feel if she was on the receiving end of them. Perhaps she needed a wolf inside her to tap into the primal spirit that joined the rest of the pack together in a throng when every confrontation began.

If there was one good thing that came of the violent challenges, it was that Netya overcame her nausea at the sight and smell of blood. By the time the third fight broke out—an altercation between Vaya and Tal, who seemed to have grown tired of asserting their dominance between the furs that evening—Netya found herself able to watch from start to finish without experiencing the familiar turning of her stomach. It did little to improve her enjoyment of the fight, but at least she no longer had to look away half way through to prevent herself from vomiting.

Even as she sought refuge in Khelt's bed, however, she became more aware of the distance between herself and the alpha. A strange distance. A distance of the soul rather than the body. It was something she would have consulted the seers over if not for her aversion to setting foot anywhere near Adel's lair. While every day she found herself growing closer and more attached to Fern, Erech, and the rest of the group who shared their fire, she still felt like nothing more than a consort to Khelt. She longed to know what lay within his heart. Caspian seemed to know, but he spent so much of his time in the seers' cave that she barely had the chance to speak with him all season.

And so, as the months of winter passed, Netya continued to take Adel's herbs. She kept the bag bundled up with the assortment of belongings she'd left in her snow-covered tent, returning every few days to collect a small handful and stash them safely in a pouch she kept tied inside her clothing close to her stomach. The more she thought of becoming a mother, the more the idea of being bound to Khelt concerned her.

Seeing the way the other mothers and fathers were together, she wanted the same for herself and the father of her children. If it was to be Khelt, she did not know how they could ever be so intimate when he was still her alpha and she his concubine. Besides which, the morning sickness of one of the other girls who had fallen pregnant earlier in the season was an uncomfortable reminder that motherhood was no free and easy undertaking.

If and when Khelt finally opened up to her and claimed her as his mate in everything but name, she resolved to stop taking the herbs. But until then, she did not wish to be bound to the promise of motherhood.

Spring came not a day too soon, and Netya was ecstatic when the weather allowed her to go out into the wilderness again, where she could ride on the back of Fern's wolf and explore all of the new plants the melting winter snow had unearthed. Even Erech managed to join them when they did not stray too far. The cold weather had been hard on his leg, but in the shape of his wolf he was able to limp along with more ease than two legs allowed, and rather than training for the hunt with the other men he instead spent most of his time in the company of his female friends.

"My place will be open for another hunter to claim this year," he said one afternoon as they returned home, him riding on the back of Fern's wolf as Netya walked alongside them. "I would rather you take it than anyone else. Nathar has not stopped hounding me over it since the season began."

"I do want to learn how you hunt," she replied, "but the last time I tried to help Vaya left me with a broken nose. What if I make a mistake again?"

"You have the alpha's blessing to hunt, and you speak our language as well as Fern speaks yours now. I think you are ready."

"But you have spent your whole lives hunting. Back in my village, only the men learned those skills."

"Every apprentice has to start somewhere. You must find one of the older hunters to be your mentor, then everything will start falling into place."

Fern barked and stopped for a moment as she put out a paw to prod at one of the other girl's skinny arms, shaking her head and making an exasperated whine at Erech.

Netya smiled. "I think Fern is right. I do not have the body of a man to help me with those skills."

Erech shrugged. "Then practice. I cannot run every morning as I used to, but I still keep the rest of my body strong by using it every day. You could be strong enough to throw a spear in time for your first hunt."

Netya had noticed at the end of the summer that her slender form had taken on a slightly more toned, wiry quality, like Fern's. Just through the daily tasks of foraging and walking for several miles at a time, she had become stronger and healthier, even if it was not to the extent of the rest of the pack. Her skin had even taken on a hint of the darker complexion her companions shared from being out under the sun so regularly. The winter months spent inside had dulled that, of course, but now that warmer weather was on its way she felt hopeful about regaining the physique of a more powerful woman.

She admired the hunters and their prowess, even though she had yet to witness it first hand. The stories they told made it seem like a masterful game that tested both strength and wits to their limit; how Khelt had once gone toe to toe with a giant mountain cat and come back without a single scratch to show for it, or how many years ago Oke managed to encircle a herd five times the size of his hunting band and corral it for miles out of a rival pack's territory.

She was even a little in awe of Vaya, despite the huntress's clear and ongoing distaste for her. Even with her abrasive attitude, she could match the strength of half the men in the pack with ease, and her wolf could run rings around the others when they tussled in training for the hunt. If Netya could not find kinship with the woman, at the very least she could respect her skills and physical prowess.

"The Sun girl will not be allowed on any of my hunts," Vaya proclaimed loudly one morning in the winter cave, as most of the pack were making preparations to move back to their outside lodgings. "I would rather take an infant over her. She cannot even lift a javelin, let alone keep up with the pack."

There were times when Netya found herself wishing she had not become so fluent in the Moon People's language, and this was one of them. She tried to ignore the comments, focusing on bundling up her belongings as the huntress continued to speak.

"Perhaps the alpha is trying to make an example of her. I have heard he sends her scuttling out of his den when he is done with her these days."

This time Netya was sure Vaya's barbed words were aimed her way, but she took a deep breath and continued to ignore them. There was little she could hope to gain from trying to confront the other woman.

"Be careful, Vaya," Tal said from his seat at the hunters' fire. "Don't let the alpha catch you pushing your luck again."

"Hm. As long as he knows I have no intention of including his pet in my hunting parties."

"Then it's a good thing you won't be leading the first hunt of the season," Tal replied.

"Won't I?" Vaya said, her voice taking on a prideful note now that she was sure everyone in the cave was listening. "This year I have as good a chance as any. It was my herd and my hunts that kept us fed last summer. The alpha is wise. He knows a masterful huntress when he sees one."

"Even after your punishment?" Tal smirked. "Your dreams are the only place you'll be leading the great hunt, Vaya."

Their conversation turned mercifully away from the topic of the Sun girl as the pair descended into bickering and posturing again, and Netya took the opportunity to slip away and carry her belongings back out to her tent. She was glad to have her privacy again, especially if it meant getting away from Vaya. The huntress could gossip as much as she wanted for all Netya cared, so long as she did it out of sight and earshot. Most of the pack—at least, most whose opinions Netya valued—knew that Vaya's words could be brash and thoughtless, but it still hurt to hear them said out loud.

Rather than letting herself become upset, she resolved to prove the hunters wrong about her. The great hunt would come soon, once the preserved winter supplies had been finished and their scouts tracked down a suitable herd nearby. It was the only time of year when all of the pack's hunting groups joined together as one large party and set out to bring home a bounty of fresh kill. It was a time for apprentices to distinguish themselves, and many of the alliances forged in the great hunt would go on to shape the structure of the hunting groups that formed in the coming year.

That very morning, Netya began to practice. She could not take the form of a wolf like her companions, and she lacked the strength to carry hunting supplies with the bearers, but her own people had managed to hunt just as well without relying on teeth and claws.

She practiced throwing javelins first, but her aim was poor, and her lack of strength sent her first few throws flopping into the grass uselessly after barely travelling a few yards. It seemed hopeless that her feeble attempts would be enough to skewer an animal in the few short weeks she had to train. But Netya refused to admit defeat, and she spent all day at the foot of the outcrop throwing javelin after javelin at the small circle of twine she had made as a target, until her muscles burned and her limbs trembled from the effort. On her final throw she managed to make the tip of her javelin pierce the earth, but it still landed to the side of her target, and the angle she had thrown at caused the shaft to flop to the ground with a crack as the tip broke off in the soil.

Netya groaned with frustration, raking damp strands of hair back from the perspiration that coated her face.

"Perhaps the javelin isn't for you," a voice called from behind her.

She turned around in a huff, shielding her eyes from the setting sun, and saw Caspian sitting on the rocks watching her.

"Then what is for me?" she said. "Standing back and watching while the real hunters do what I cannot?"

Caspian shook his head, rising to his feet as he approached her. "You need someone to instruct you. You hold your javelin like it is a spear."

"I am holding it in the same way the men from my village did. And I tried finding a mentor. Those who do not laugh at me say they already have other apprentices to train this season." She stuck out her lower lip, folding her arms as Caspian picked up another javelin and offered it to her.

"Your people often hunt with the spear. Here, let me show you."

Reluctantly, she allowed him to press the javelin into her hands again, forgetting her frustration for a moment as Caspian stood behind her and adjusted her posture. He guided her with firm hands on her bare arms, before moving to her shoulders, then her hips.

"Keep one hand back, farther down the shaft," he said. "The other must have a tight grip. A spear is not for throwing. Once it pierces an animal's hide you must not allow the beast to drag it out of your hands."