The Alpha's Concubine (Historical Shifter Romance) (46 page)

Nevertheless, the creature was clearly agitated and skittish. Netya slowly put down her bag and took hold of her spear with both hands, raising the point in front of her. The wolf's low growl grew louder, and Adel put out a hand to hold her apprentice back.

"Wait. She is more afraid than us."

"Frightened animals are still dangerous."

"Yes, especially if they have something worth protecting nearby," Adel said softly, moving past her to approach the creature.

Netya expected her to take the shape of her own wolf to face the beast down, but Adel only dipped a hand into her bag as she crept forward, her long shawl snagging against the grass as she moved. All Netya could think about was how clumsy her mentor would be if it came to a fight with the growling animal. Without a weapon to protect herself, Adel would need her wolf's claws before long.

She gripped her spear tighter, the balls of her feet tensing against the ground as her agitation grew. The wolf had backed off a few paces, but its body was still coiled and ready to pounce. It was not going to be scared off without a fight.

Still Adel kept moving forward, until she was almost close enough for the wolf to be at her throat in a single bound. Then, just as Netya was about to dart forward with her spear, the den mother's arm flashed out, a cloud of yellow dust streaming from between her fingers as she threw a handful of pollen into the wolf's snarling muzzle.

Even more surprised than Netya, the animal stumbled backwards with a snorting, sneezing series of whines, jerking her head from side to side as she sought to escape the dusty cloud. Still spluttering, the female turned tail and darted away into the undergrowth, the rustling sounds of her retreat fading into the distance until she was gone.

Netya allowed her spear to drop, letting out a relieved breath as she returned to Adel's side. "You could have fought her off with the aid of your wolf. We spent all morning collecting that pollen."

"A small price to pay for a life, don't you think? I did not want to provoke her into a fight."

"I did not know you cared so much for wolves. You seem to avoid your own as often as you can," Netya said with a smile.

"Mind your tongue, and help me find some more flowers," Adel replied, brushing a thin layer of pollen from her clothing, the yellow mist puffing into the air in small clouds. "Let the wolf live to see another day, and let us finish gathering what we came for.”

Netya's back ached from bending over to scrape down flowers by the time they got back to the outcrop that afternoon. She wanted nothing more than to lie down and rest for a short while, but Adel insisted they had more work to do. The pollen was used in several rituals by the seers, some of it for painting, some to be burned with incense, some added to food or drink. It was a valuable ingredient, and it had to be prepared and stored carefully.

At first Adel began leading them back to the seers' cave, where they could continue their work undisturbed. But it was a bright and beautiful day, and the den mother so rarely ventured out of her chamber. After a little persuading, Netya convinced her that working outdoors would be a better idea while they still had the light. There was no wind to risk blowing their pollen away, and it would not fill the den mother's cave with its musty, irritating odour if they prepared it outdoors.

They sat together in a quiet corner of the crafting area, just off to the side of the central meeting space, where several other pack members were lounging. Netya and her mentor attracted several curious looks and whispered conversations, but Adel ignored the gossip entirely, forgoing her slightly more relaxed demeanour from earlier as she imparted Netya with curt, direct instructions.

While the den mother portioned out half of the pollen to prepare for use in rituals, she left her apprentice with the simpler task of making sure the rest was stored safely in wooden jars. Adel showed her how much to measure into each container, then left Netya to scoop up the amounts she needed on the blade of her knife.

She filled the jars one at a time, tapped the contents down until they were level, then placed small wooden caps over the tops that had been whittled to fit somewhat firmly into place. Once that was done, she set a pot over the fire to heat, then hurried back to the seers' cave and found a bag filled with broken fragments of beeswax among their stores.

She dropped the wax into her pot a piece at a time, stirring it carefully until it was evenly melted, then dipped the tops of her jars in one by one, creating a tight seal to protect the contents from air and moisture. By the time she dipped the last jar, the wax on the first had cooled and hardened, and she repeated the process again until there was a firm coating several layers thick on each one.

As they worked, more people began to trickle into the camp, and the smell of cooking food filled the air as the promise of a hearty evening meal approached. The hunters reappeared up the slope leading down to the plains a handful at a time, and for the most part Netya paid them little attention. It was only when she was finishing up her work—taking inspiration from Caspian to mark the wax on each jar with a circle she decided meant "pollen"—that she noticed one of the young men returning to camp with the body of an animal slung over his shoulder. There had been no hunts recently, and the surprise of the others was matched by their curiosity over what had happened.

Netya recognised the young hunter as Rolan, a man whose coming of age celebration she remembered from the previous year. He had a habit of tailing Vaya wherever she went, and so Netya had rarely taken the time to speak with him. She rose to her feet when she saw he was bleeding from several scratches across his face, wondering whether he needed aid, but Adel stopped her with a hand around her wrist. The den mother's grasp was uncomfortably tight, and a moment later, Netya realised why.

The wolf draped over Rolan's shoulder was the same scrawny female they had run into earlier that day. It should not have bothered her to see the animal dead, especially not after having been willing to fight it herself just a few hours prior. But, after the way Adel had deftly handled the beast without a drop of blood needing to be spilled, she could not help but feel a lump come to her throat.

"I am sure he had a good reason," she began as the den mother rose to her feet, cold eyes blazing as they fixed on the young man being congratulated by his companions. Netya's words fell on deaf ears. The den mother stormed past her without hesitating, making straight for Rolan through the small crowd that had begun to form.

Cheerful conversations turned to frightened whispers as the group parted for her, men and woman stepping back and bowing their heads in respect as Adel approached the hunter. He turned several shades paler when he saw her coming, and for a moment Netya thought he might drop his freshly killed prize and scurry right back out of camp again. He was quaking by the time Adel came face to face with him. Not being a tall man, the den mother towered over him.

Her eyes flicked from the wolf to his face, and then she spoke.

"Why did you kill this animal, boy?"

"I caught it in our territory, to the south," he answered, his voice thin with anxiety.

"I did not know it was forbidden for wild animals to set foot in our lands."

A few nervous laughs followed Adel's words, but they fell quickly silent when the den mother's chilling expression turned even more severe.

"It... It was a fine kill," the young man stammered.

"A skinny female. Even for a runt like you, she must have been half your size. Does it make you proud to kill weak animals, with barely enough meat on their bones to satisfy a single meal?"

"I will give her pelt to you, as— as—"

"As a gift?" Adel's tone dripped with scorn.

Even Netya could not help but feel sympathetic to Rolan. Perhaps he deserved to be reprimanded, but he was clearly lost for words. His mouth formed silent shapes that made no sounds as he shook his head, pawing desperately at the animal slung over his shoulder with quivering fingers. Before Adel could admonish the young man further, Vaya stepped up and placed herself between them.

"I have seen this animal in the meadows myself. It may have been a danger to those out foraging. Rolan was right to kill it," the huntress said.

"You believe our people are not capable of defending themselves against a single lone wolf?" Adel replied, glaring down at Vaya. The sudden intercession seemed only to have angered her further.

"My only concern is for you and your seers, Den Mother," Vaya said, allowing her eyes to fall in deference to the senior female. "We would not want you burdened by having to deal with wild beasts."

"Such a burden it is, to allow innocent creatures to continue living," Adel all but snarled. She looked from Rolan to Vaya again, then pushed the huntress aside and gripped the young man's chin in her hand, forcing him to look up at her. "You will take this animal back to where you killed her, and you will leave her body for the earth to reclaim. Ask her spirit for forgiveness, and perhaps it will bless you with the forethought to consider the value of life the next time you feel the urge to take it needlessly."

"Yes, Den Mother," Rolan whispered, the relief in his voice almost palpable. Clearly he had been expecting a far more severe punishment to befall him.

Adel released her grip and allowed the young man to leave, eyes following him all the way down the slope until he had disappeared around the side of the outcrop. She turned her gaze on Vaya, who still stood to one side with a glower on her face. "Do you have something more to say, huntress?"

Vaya shook her head, staring down at the ground.

"Then return to your meal. And do not allow me to overhear you defending the mistakes of those who look up to you again." Adel turned and swept her way back through the crowd, allowing the subdued murmur of conversation to resume behind her as she returned to where she had been working. In the fading light, it shocked Netya to see the first traces of tears in her mentor's eyes.

"It saddened me to see the wolf dead too," she said softly, trying to put a hand on the other woman's arm.

Adel brushed her off with a shake of her head. "It was only a wolf," she said stiffly. "Will you gather our things and return them to the cave? I am feeling out of sorts."

"Of course, Den Mother," Netya said gently. "Shall I make you your tea and bring it to your chamber?"

"Yes, thank you. That would be very kind." Adel made as if to place her hand on Netya's shoulder, but her fingers curled closed at the last moment. She stepped back uncomfortably, the faint lines around her eyes showing for a moment before she turned away.

Netya watched her go with a deep sadness in her heart. It was only a wild wolf. A small thing, really. But, after hearing Adel speak that day, perhaps it was the small things that bothered her the most. The things that were easily avoided. The things that reminded her how easy it was for a single decision to change the course of a life.

—
35—

Betrayal

Adel was quiet when Netya brought the tea to her chamber. The den mother sat wrapped in her sleeping furs, watching the fire as she sipped her drink. It seemed she was in need of more comfort than a cup of hot tea could provide, but Netya had not the first idea how to give it. Not to a woman like Adel. Instead, she settled for tidying the chamber and making sure her mentor had everything she needed. Adel did not speak a word until she set her cup down and unfastened her headdress, slipping out of her furs.

"I am going to bathe," she said. "Your duties are done for the day. We will carry on tomorrow."

Netya nodded, but she continued to linger in the seers' cave after Adel had departed. The den mother was so similar to Khelt in some ways, and yet the two of them could not have been more different. It was no wonder they refused to agree on anything.

Netya made her way to a small side chamber which the seers used for most of their cooking, one of the few with natural vents in the roof to let smoke out. Several of the others were gathered there, and a pot of thick stew bubbled over the coals, filling the cave with its delicious aroma. The herbs the seers had access to meant their food was always rich and filled with flavour, and it was one of the benefits of being an apprentice that Netya certainly did not begrudge.

"Are you alright, girl?" one of the elders said as she filled a bowl and handed it to Netya.

"Why? Do I look troubled?" she replied.

"You do a poor job of hiding how much your face reveals," Brae said from across the fire. "Is the den mother pushing you too hard again?"

"No, of course not."

Brae shared a concerned look with the others. "If you are troubled by something, you should tell us. We worry over the amount of time you spend in there with her."

"There is no need, really. The den mother is a fine mentor." Netya did not think Adel would take kindly to such gossip behind her back, especially not if she told the others how upset the den mother had seemed.

"Well, if you are sure," Brae said, plainly unconvinced.

Netya ate quickly, the concern of her fellow seers making her uncomfortable. It was difficult to explain what was on her mind, and she did her best to avoid the questions of the others until she was finished. Before leaving, she filled another bowl with stew and carried it up to Adel's chamber, leaving it next to the fire to stay warm before going to brew another cup of tea.