The Alpha's Concubine (Historical Shifter Romance) (35 page)

Blackness took her for a moment, but she felt Caspian's arms bearing her up the whole way through, even when her limp body regained its strength and the world swam back into colour on the tail of one final climax. Her loss of control seemed too much for the male, and he buried his face in the side of her neck, groaning as his hot breath rushed against her. A moment later she was empty, the warmth of Caspian's climax spilling against her lower back as he ground himself against her, chest heaving as he nuzzled and nipped at her ear.

Netya felt as if she had just held her breath for longer than she was capable, unable to do anything but gasp, filling her lungs with aching breaths as she and her lover leaned up against each other. Her only disappointment was that he had withdrawn at the last moment, and as sense returned to her she flushed when realising why. If only she could have told him about the herbs.

"No man has ever taken me like that," she panted at last, once she had slid half way down Caspian's lap and regained enough of her breath to talk.

"Few women are able to let me," he replied, massaging Netya's glistening chest with one hand while the other stroked her hair. "But you are wise to the things your body tells you. It has been a long time since I have taken a female so far."

"It felt as if my spirit had come loose from me." She turned her head to kiss his arm, squirming against the furs as she glowed with satisfaction. "You are the one who is wise and skilled in the ways of pleasure."

Caspian let out a long breath, lying back on the furs and allowing Netya to crawl atop him. "There is something in that spirit of yours, Netya. I cannot tell what it is, but there is a spark there. I did not see it for a long time, but it has grown into a fire during your time with us."

She rested her cheek against his chest, smiling. It pleased her like nothing else to hear such words from Caspian. "I still do not believe my spirit is a special one."

"It is different, though. Often that is enough."

Netya closed her eyes for a moment, content to feel the gentle pulse of Caspian's heart and the slow movement of his body beneath her. "Will you do this again with me?" she asked.

He paused before answering. "I told you, hearts are dangerous things to toy with."

"I did not ask you to be my mate."

"Would you feel the same after the next time we made love? Or the time after?" He ran a hand through his hair. "It is not easy to forget how fond the spirit grows on nights like these. We are free to take our pleasures with whomever we desire, but once Khelt returns he will expect you to be his again. I would never put myself between you and him."

"I care for you both."

Caspian's hand crept down to tousle her own hair. "That is why it would be better for us not to lie with one another again. When two wolves vie for the affection of a single female, it rarely ends well."

Netya's heart sank, and she clung to him tighter. "Why must hearts be so difficult to understand?"

"If they were simple, they would not be special." He cupped her cheek and sat up to kiss her one more time. "Much like you."

—
27—

Netya's Mentor

Netya awoke in her own tent the following morning. Caspian must have carried her back after she fell asleep curled up next to him. She stretched contentedly, squirming in her furs as she recalled their night together. Of the men she had been with over the past year, he was the first one to have elevated their lovemaking to something beyond what she understood of it so far. Were there peaks of intimacy that rose even higher than those Caspian had shared with her? If she found a mate some day, a person she truly loved, would they take her to further places still?

Netya rolled over, propping an arm beneath her cheek. Had she even experienced love yet? Was it the sense of duty she felt to Khelt, and the longing she had to make him open his heart to her? If he would only share that part of himself, and claim her as his mate properly, she might be able to love him.

But Caspian had been so honest with her since the moment they met. He saw her as she truly was, not a concubine or a girl from a rival tribe, but simply as Netya. It filled her with joy to picture the small symbol he had made that meant her name. Such a tiny gesture, but one that touched her heart more than any grand gift. Was the way she felt about Caspian love? And if it was, how would she ever allow it to grow? She was bound to Khelt, at least until she bore him an heir, and that was unlikely to happen for as long as she continued taking Adel's herbs. Perhaps once her dwindling supply ran out she should simply stop and allow nature to take its course, have Khelt's child, and then allow her heart to roam where it wished.

She sighed, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. She did not especially want to become a mother, she knew that now. There was too much she longed to do and experience in her life before raising children. She wanted to travel and see the North People, visit the distant mountains, attend one of the great gatherings of packs the Moon People spoke of. Most of all she desired a role she could call her own, whether it was as a hunter, seer, or something else.

How did it seem that love was a delicate thread lost within an impossible tangle of pathways spreading out before her? She could see glimpses of it, touch and tug at it, but following it would lead her into the wilderness, where all other paths collapsed and nothing was certain.

If Fern had been there Netya would have talked it over with her friend, but the other girl was absent from their tent that morning. Either she had been out all night as her wolf, or had found her way to the bed of one of their friends.

Netya got up and rekindled the fire with some borrowed embers from the central hearth, then made her way down to the river to bathe while it was still quiet. The weather was still too cold for most of the pack to take to the river directly, but Netya liked the way the icy water woke her up, along with the feeling of wrapping herself in a warm fur as she dried off by the fire afterwards.

One of the seers must have been keeping watch for her outside their cave, for no sooner had Netya shed her clothes and slipped into the river than an elder woman hurried down the slope after her, clearly with the intention of delivering a message.

"Your apprenticeship will begin today," the seer announced as Netya blinked up at her from the water. "Come to the cave at sundown, and Adel will select your mentor." With her piece said the woman departed, leaving Netya shivering, as much with anticipation as from the cold.

"It is no surprise it happened now," Fern said when she reappeared at midday. "With Khelt gone, Adel will see it as a good opportunity to bring you into her fold without him interfering."

"You make it sound so sinister," Netya replied.

"With the den mother it often is. She rarely makes any decision without ensuring it will serve her purposes in some way."

"I do not know whether to feel afraid or excited to be part of her order."

Fern gave her a reassuring look. "As long as you stay out of her way and mind the words of your mentor I think you will have little to worry about. Adel is intimidating, but all the seers agree that she is as wise and talented a den mother as they have ever known. They have done well under her, and you shall too."

Fern's words helped to sooth Netya's worries a little. Brae and most of the other seers had always treated her kindly, if a little distantly at times. Their ways seemed strange, but if they could thrive in spite of Adel, perhaps she could too. Certainly, if she became a seer, she would no longer need to worry about the likes of Vaya picking on her. She decided to focus on the positives, resolving that she would not allow her feelings toward the den mother to interfere with her apprenticeship.

The sudden announcement had the fortunate effect of taking Netya's mind off matters of love and companionship for a short while, but as the hours before sunset dragged by her thoughts couldn't help but creep back to the previous night.

"Does Caspian speak of himself much?" she asked Fern as they spent the afternoon smoothing down freshly made bone needles that had been crafted from the spoils of the last hunt.

"He tends to speak of anything if you ask him, but you know him well enough by now. He keeps his thoughts inside most of the time. Why do you ask?"

"I realised I do not know him as well as I should. Does he have family in the pack?"

Fern shook her head, keeping her eyes on the rough stone she was smoothing her needle against with a piece of leather. "I think his father came from another clan. Several of our parents were lost during the time we fought your people and Adel's most viciously. Caspian's mother was one of those who died on the hunt that drove the alpha and den mother apart."

That made Netya pause. "She was the seer who was killed?"

Fern nodded. "Caspian and Khelt were already close, but they became like brothers after that. The alpha's mother died shortly after he was born, and his father was already old. Khelt lost his father and inherited the title of alpha just a few months before Caspian lost the last of his family too."

"He did not tell me that part," Netya mused.

Fern looked up from her work. "You spoke to him about this?"

"Yes, last night." Netya flushed, unsure of how much to share with her friend. She knew Fern was not the sort to become genuinely jealous, but the events of the previous evening still felt private somehow.

"Netya." Fern tutted, a smile spreading across her lips. "There are some things you are even worse at hiding than me."

Netya squirmed for a moment, before relenting. There was no point in trying to keep it hidden now. "Promise you will not tell anyone?"

"He took you to his bed last night?"

Netya bobbed her head. "I do not mean to keep it a secret. It just... felt special, in some way."

"If I am to keep it to myself, I must know every detail! That is my price for staying silent." Fern seemed to have perked up immediately once the sombre topic turned to matters of love, and Netya found it difficult to refuse her once her interest had been piqued.

"I did not mean for it to happen," Netya began, fumbling her way awkwardly through the events that had ended with her lying in the furs with Caspian. Soon they were talking in hushed whispers, and the dark-haired girl recounted everything she could remember. Fern's expression creased with emotion as the truth of Khelt and Adel's tale came out, and for a short while she seemed worryingly preoccupied with the revelation. It awoke a glimmer of concern in Netya's heart when her friend swept whatever had been bothering her aside and, almost disingenuously, pushed for more details about Caspian.

There seemed a hidden well of emotion within Fern that longed to escape, but whenever it did, it hurt her, and she hurried to bury it in her eagerness to pursue the more pleasurable things in life. It was rare that Netya touched upon this closed-off side of her friend, but it had happened enough times now for her to become aware of it. The only time Fern had let it slip out uncontrollably had been when she confronted Vaya all those months ago. Netya wished she had understood, or could remember, what the huntress had said to provoke such a powerful reaction, but whatever it was it had clearly pierced deep into the heart of whatever burden Fern carried.

These were all distant thoughts, and Netya had not the first clue how or why she might bring them up with her friend, but they sat at the back of her mind like a lingering ghost, intangible and unsettling.

Fern was an expert in regaining her upbeat mood, however, and before long she had tugged Netya back into the exciting gossip of love and lovemaking, sharing a tale of her own about how she and Nathar had spent the early hours of that morning. The things Fern described soon had Netya blushing again, and by the time the sun had begun to set her thoughts were leagues away from the vague sense of unease that had threatened to encroach on them.

The two young women were smoothing down their last pair of needles when Erech limped over to the spot outside their tent, excitement in his eyes.

"I just came from the seers' cave, Netya," he said. "They are ready for you now."

She was greeted not by one of the elders as she had expected, but a young seer named Selo, who had just recently finished her own apprenticeship. Netya had glimpsed the inner part of the cave many times as she walked past, but only the small circular chamber at the entrance was ever visible. It was where the seers would often sit when they were grinding herbs, sewing leather, or going about their other practical daily tasks. There was usually someone there to attend to the needs of the pack members who stopped by, but on the far side of that first chamber a thick curtain of darkly stained hides hung from a wooden frame, concealing the inner cave from view. In that private sanctum the seers performed all of their rituals, communing with the spirits and seeking out the wisdom that came from a place beyond the physical world. It was also where they stored all of their most potent herbs and medicines, the ones that were powerful or dangerous when administered incorrectly.

The seers' cave was a haven of dark mystery that held secrets even the Moon People themselves barely knew, and now it was Netya's turn to have them revealed to her. She felt terribly inadequate standing there in her simple gown and moccasins next to Selo, who was dressed in an extravagant shawl of fur and a deer-pelt headdress. There was no fire burning in the small antechamber, and the cool air immediately crept its way up Netya's back as Selo instructed her to wait and slipped behind the hide curtains.