The Alpha's Concubine (Historical Shifter Romance) (32 page)

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Authors: Claudia King

Tags: #Historical / Fantasy / Romance

BOOK: The Alpha's Concubine (Historical Shifter Romance)
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"I hope so," Netya replied. "They are very fortunate to have one another."

The rest of the day was spent in celebration, and thankfully the topic of Netya's early dismissal was lost among far more exciting tales of the confrontation with the mountain cats in the ravine, and the tracking of the drove that had followed, culminating in the hunters securing several kills near the edge of the forest after an exhausting chase that forced the horses into the shallows of a river.

Netya kept mostly to herself as the others celebrated, only attempting to seek out Caspian later on. She finally tracked him down at the edge of the gathering, but immediately stopped when she saw who shared his fire. Adel had deigned to make one of her rare appearances outside of the seers' cave, and she and Caspian were discussing something intently under their breath.

Before she could be noticed, Netya swallowed her disappointment and turned around, heading back to Khelt's side, whereupon he eagerly tugged her into his lap. She spent the rest of the night there until the alpha grew tired of the festivities and carried her back to his den, where he took her hard for almost an hour until the pair of them passed out, sore and tender in each other's arms.

 

The weeks of spring passed and the weather grew warmer, but despite the return to regular pack life Netya found herself growing restless. After her first hunt she longed to take on a more significant role among the group, but instead she only returned to the same old routines as before. By now she spoke the language of the Moon People so well that there was little left for her to learn, and all of the initial mistakes she had made in her acclimation to the pack had been smoothed out. The task of fitting in and learning the ways of her new tribe seemed all but accomplished, and it left behind a frustrating void that she did not know how to fill. Every time Fern joined the others on a hunt Netya watched them leave with a painful tugging in her chest, wishing she was once again riding on the back of a wolf, ready to test herself against the wilds.

Passing the time with Erech helped occupy her a little, but it was more to his benefit than hers. His leg showed some improvement once he began to use it properly after months spent stranded in the winter cave, but he soon hit a barrier that put a stop to his progress. Every day of walking helped him regain some of his lost stamina, and soon he could manage short journeys without the aid of his crutch, but every time he attempted to increase his pace beyond a slow limp he was gripped with crippling pain. None of the seers save for Adel seemed able to tell him much, and the den mother suspected Erech's leg had healed in a way that left it with no strength for running.

To the young man's credit, he never gave up trying, but any progress he made from that point on was so small as to be almost unnoticeable. After several weeks he seemed to accept that, even if he did one day hunt again, it would not be for a great many years, and in the meantime he would have to pursue some other skill.

Thankfully Erech possessed an interest in toolmaking, and after sitting with the other craftspeople for a time he began trying to perfect his knapping into something more than just a functional hobby. Flint had been used less often in Netya's village in the years since they had begun trading for metal tools, but with no knowledge of how to work metal for themselves, and with natural rocks being far more readily available, knapping was still a skill Netya's people held in high regard.

She spent many of her afternoons alongside Erech practicing with him, and after a few weeks she too had become competent enough to fashion basic knives, razors, and axes, though they often varied wildly in size and shape compared to those made by the other craftsmen and women. She could not tell how their technique in striking the brittle stones differed significantly from hers, but after working down a platform on one side of their flint cores they seemed able to detach flakes suited to any purpose with just a few effortless blows.

Netya reasoned that they had worked to perfect this craft of theirs for years, but beyond mastering the basics she found she had little patience for it. It frustrated her every time a core shattered off into useless splinters, or a tool she had been working cracked in half as she tried to take off a small flake too carelessly. While Erech worked diligently, she often found herself abandoning her efforts mid way through the afternoon, running off to practice with her spear or forage on the other side of the river. Those things, at least, made her feel as if her efforts were being rewarded.

Khelt approached her one afternoon when she was sitting on the rocks off to the side of the crafting area, sucking her thumb where a sharp flake had left her with a painful cut.

"Erech tells me you are not taking well to crafting," he said.

"It seems I am not suited to anything here." She flung her arms in the air. "When anyone else takes a cut it will be gone within a few hours, but I must wait a day or more for mine to heal. I have no wolf to hunt with, and no child to be a mother to." Her cheeks coloured slightly at those last words, well aware that it was in large part due to her own efforts that she had not yet borne Khelt an heir. She had taken the herbs regularly all winter, and the bag stashed beneath her bedding was almost empty.

"Some of us take many years to find our true calling. Perhaps with patience you will make a fine craftswoman yet."

"Patience is not something I have! I do not mind practicing, but every time I break a tool or cut myself I have no choice but to wait and start over again. It feels nothing like the hunt did."

Khelt sat down beside her, rubbing a hand over his chin. He seemed unusually anxious about something, as if torn on a decision that had been weighing on him for a long time. "If I could allow you to join the hunt again I would, but the hunters are all in agreement that you are not suited to it. It would do no good to force them."

"I know," Netya sighed. "They say it is rarely a woman's calling anyway."

Khelt nodded. "Most females stop hunting regularly once they are mated. You would have had no choice but to give it up once you bore my child in any case." He turned to her then, hesitating as the problem he seemed to be struggling with lingered on his lips.

"What is it?" she said.

"I have seen you still practicing with your spear. I do not think it is good to keep clinging to these hopes of hunting."

"If I had something else to cling to I would," she replied.

Khelt might have reprimanded her for being short with him, but the alpha seemed too preoccupied to notice. Finally, he gave voice to what he had been thinking. "Then there is one other role you might try. It is the last place I desire to put you, but it seems everyone believes it makes the most sense. Fern suggested it to me the day after you returned from the great hunt, and Caspian has talked of little else. He even managed to persuade the den mother to agree."

Netya raised her eyebrows, a tingle of apprehension creeping up her spine. This was not something she had seriously considered, but there was only one possibility Khelt could be hinting at.

"The seers have agreed to take you on as an apprentice, if you desire it," he said.

"Adel agreed to this? But she..." Netya trailed off, not sure what to think. Was this another of the den mother's schemes?

"It pains me to put you under her watch, but you will not have to deal with her often. Even among the seers I am told she keeps mostly to herself. One of the others would be your mentor. Perhaps Brae. She spoke well of you when you helped her in the preparations for the summer fires."

Netya was unsure what to think. She knew nothing of healing or the ways of the spirits. But becoming a seer would afford her with status beyond that of even the hunters. Behind Adel, she might become one of the most senior females in the pack.

"It is beyond me to learn the skills of a seer," she said.

Khelt let out a long breath. He seemed to want nothing more than to dissuade her from such a path, but the alpha's heart and mind were clearly divided. In the end, honesty won out. "Everything Fern and Caspian tell me suggests you have the spark of a seer within you. I have seen your compassion, your sharpness of mind. It is a path few can take, but many wise seers start out as you are now. Adel will try to twist you to her own designs, but if you can endure her, you may find your calling."

Netya nodded slowly. She still feared the den mother, but the fear reminded her of how she had felt approaching the ravine, charging into the hunt, with victory and danger looming just out of sight. It kindled in her the same excitement that had made her want to become a hunter. It was a journey into the unknown, a journey into fear and mystery, and a promise of the kind of power she had only ever glimpsed in others.

"If I can endure Vaya, perhaps I can endure Adel," she said, with more confidence than she felt. Adel was the kind of woman who would not spare someone like Vaya a second glance. She was no simple bully.

Khelt's smile was bittersweet as he took her hand and squeezed it. "I hope the wisdom of this decision does not prove to be misplaced. I will have Caspian tell Adel. She will decide when you are to begin your apprenticeship, and assign you a mentor."

 


25—

Khelt and Adel's Tale

 

 

Despite her concerns, Netya was eager to begin her apprenticeship, and once the news spread among the pack she became a popular topic of conversation again. Several of those who had shown reservations in accepting her questioned the wisdom of allowing an outsider to train as a seer, but for the most part she was greeted with congratulations, and sometimes even a hint of respect.

Netya thanked Fern profusely for her efforts in convincing the alpha to let it happen, but Caspian once again proved elusive, and despite her best efforts it seemed impossible to track him down for more than a few moments outside of meal times.

The customs of admitting a new apprentice into the ranks of the seers seemed lengthy and complex, apparently requiring much deliberation and communion with the spirits to determine when it would happen, and to whom Netya would be apprenticed. Several weeks passed as she waited anxiously, but with the promise of such a great undertaking on her horizon the days no longer felt quite so restless.

As the weather improved Khelt announced that he planned on taking an expedition to visit the North People, bringing hides and furs to trade with their allies who relied more on farming than hunting to sustain themselves. It was to be a long trip, lasting at least a month, and anyone who wished to learn the language and ways of the Sun People was invited.

As curious as Netya was to visit her own kind again, and to witness how those from other villages lived, her impending apprenticeship was too important to delay for so long. The last thing she wanted was to give Adel more reasons to dislike her, especially now. Her dismissal from the great hunt was still fresh in her memory, and she refused to let a second such opportunity slip through her fingers.

The expedition said their goodbyes, and Khelt drew Netya into his arms before he left, telling her quietly how he would miss her company every night they were apart. His affection stirred a gentle warmness in her heart, and she clung on to him a little longer when he made to back away. He may not have treated her with the love she had witnessed between Hawk and his mate, but there were small moments like this that came close.

Now that summer was on the horizon the pack often strayed farther afield in groups, and at any given time it was unlikely for more than half the pack to be at home. The quiet days meant that the absence of Khelt and his expedition did not leave the camp feeling much more empty than usual. Caspian dealt with any serious matters that required a leader's intervention, but, having vented their winter tensions a few months prior, the pack was mostly able to govern itself without issue.

Life continued so routinely that, entirely by accident, Netya found herself walking into Khelt's den one evening without thinking. She expected the alpha would desire her, as he often did on warm, quiet nights, and it was not until she stepped through the drapes that she remembered he was gone.

Instead she found Caspian sitting at the table near the fire, burning patterns into a flat piece of wood using a thin metal tool. He looked up in surprise as she entered, and Netya's skin immediately flushed as she realised her thoughtless mistake.

"It isn't prudent to enter the alpha's den uninvited," he said, but his tone was playful rather than stern.

"I am sorry," Netya replied, struggling to think of some way to save face. She did not want to appear empty-headed to Caspian. "The alpha often desires me on evenings like this. I thought..." What did she think? What was she implying she had come here to do?

Caspian smiled and looked back to his wood burning. "Thankfully I have no need of a consort myself, though you flatter me. Do not worry about continuing with those duties while Khelt is away."

"Of course," Netya said, lingering uncomfortably near the cave entrance. Now that she was here, she was reluctant to leave, and when Caspian made no move to dismiss her she crept over to look at what he was doing.

The tool in his hand was a short, uneven metal rod set into a piece of wood to protect his skin from the heat when he warmed it in the fire. Using the tip, he was scorching dark burn lines into a flat piece of wood that was covered in rows of similar markings. Netya squinted at them curiously. What he was doing reminded her a little of the patterns people sometimes used to decorate walls or ornaments, but none of the marks Caspian was making looked like shapes she was familiar with. They were too small and simple to be animals or people, and they did not seem to flow in any particular pattern.

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