The Alpha's Concubine (Historical Shifter Romance) (56 page)

Netya gave her mentor a reproachful look, but she only grunted in contempt.

"I will send someone to Vaya's tent," the den mother conceded. "If the scent of the nightwood berries lingers there, I will believe you."

Netya took a deep breath and closed her eyes, trying to calm herself. So much had changed, and greater changes might await them still. She needed to clear her thoughts and rest. "I was afraid for you," she said quietly.

Adel's expression softened. "As was I for my apprentice."

"Will you make sure the seers take good care of Caspian tonight?"

"I will tend to him myself." She brushed Netya's cheek with the back of her fingers. "I am glad you chose him."

Netya flushed, looking away as she helped her mentor back toward the camp.
Had
she chosen him? Her heart felt like it knew where it belonged, but her mind was still torn. Khelt's behaviour had worried her that day. Was it wise to risk creating such a rift between the three of them, and at a time like this? She only hoped that in the morning, things would be clearer.

When Netya returned to her tent she found Fern sitting up against a bundle of furs with a tearful Wren cradled in her arms. The young girl was not the only one who had been crying. A hasty fire had been kindled, but it was already burning down low. After building up the flames with a few more logs, Netya eased her wolf pelt off her back and draped it over the rack next to her sleeping furs. She needed to eat and bathe, but those things could wait until the morning.

Curling up beside the dozing pair, she put an arm around her friend and rested her head against her shoulder. Wren squirmed and squeezed Fern's waist tighter.

As worried as she was, Netya slept deeply that night, soothed by the simple comfort of knowing she was in a place where love still lingered, despite the pain of everything that had come to pass. Warm and in the presence of people she cared for, she tried her best not to remember the past two days.

—
42—

Fires in the Night

The camp bustled with activity the following day. Khelt sent out runners to bring back the members of the pack who were still abroad, and the outcrop was alight with talk of what had happened. Hawk and Essie's deaths seemed to have had a galvanising effect on the Moon People, and no one was content to relax while the lingering threat of retribution hung over them. Hunters trained down on the plains, tussling without the usual boisterous aggression as their superiors watched over them. The craftspeople worked hard on fresh new tools and javelins, despite the pack's stores already being full of perfectly serviceable ones. Many of the seers had taken to the spirit world, joining together in group trances in hopes of unclouding the tenuous future that lay before them.

Once she had bathed and made breakfast for Wren, however, there was only one person to whom Netya's thoughts turned. She hurried to Adel's chamber to ask after Caspian, finding the den mother back to her usual strikingly beautiful self, and learned that he was well, but in need of rest. Netya held herself back all day, but by nightfall she could not restrain the urge to go to him any longer.

Making her way around the edge of the outcrop to Caspian's lodge, she ran into Selo just as she was leaving. The other young seer told her that he was no longer in need of tending. His wounds had healed well while he slept, and he would be back on his feet by the following morning. Letting out her relief in an embrace, Netya squeezed Selo tight by way of a thank you, leaving the girl a little flustered by the time she let go.

When she stepped inside the dim lodge, she found Caspian lying on his back atop the furs that lined his raised sleeping alcove. The stitches she had put in the previous morning were gone, and his wounds had given way to fresh scars. He gave Netya a weary smile, and gestured for her to come over.

"I needed some brightness in my day," he said as she knelt down beside him.

She took his right hand between hers and kissed it. "I think we all do. The whole pack is upset."

"And what about you? You never spoke of what happened back at your village."

A sad smile came to Netya's lips. Caspian always had a way of seeing things others did not. "The pack is my family now. I have you and Fern, and I am sure Adel will take good care of me."

"But not Khelt." Caspian sighed. "He knew why I went out there to find you, but there was no hiding it any more. We both care for you, more deeply than I fear either of us have ever cared for another female."

"Do you think he resents us?"

Caspian shook his head. "Khelt is a good man. I was ready to give up my feelings if it meant he could be happy with you, as I am sure he would have done for me." He paused. "As he may already be doing."

"Is that why you stayed away for so long?"

"Had you not gone missing, I might have been able to keep my distance until you forgot about me."

Netya kissed his hand again. "Then a part of me is glad for what happened."

Caspian looked at her for a long moment, letting his palm glide across her cheek, his fingers caressing their way through her hair. She leaned forward and rested her cheek on his stomach, feeling the warmth of his body and the faint pulse of his heart. Caspian made her long for many things.

"The night Adel was poisoned, it was your lodge I came to," she said. "You were the one I trusted most."

"I am sorry I was not there."

"You could not have known. You came for me when I needed you."

Unable to help herself, Netya eased into the alcove, crawling atop Caspian as he sat half way up and put his arms around her. If his wounds were still giving him any pain, he did not show it. He embraced her to his chest, holding his female tight as the heat of their bodies mingled together, the brush of their skin becoming warm and comfortable. The gentle grip of his arms gave her spirit a place where it could always feel safe. Unguarded, untroubled; all the worries of the world could not touch that precious place inside her that belonged with Caspian. At long last, after a year of wondering, she believed she had started to understand the truth of love.

Without pausing to consider how she might say it, she told him everything that had happened when she returned to her village. Layon, her mother, the face of her sister peering out at her. It came naturally, and without tears. It was a tale she might have carried with her to her dying day, just as Fern had kept the loss of her own parents trapped in her heart, but with Caspian there to hold her, it no longer needed to be a burden.

He listened to every word, never pressing her for more or offering false comfort. There was nothing he could say that would bring back her mother's love. He could not make the people who had cast her out accept their exiled daughter once again. What he did instead was to kiss her, and embrace her with such tenderness that she almost felt herself giving in to the tears the memory of her village had been unable to stir. Without words, he told her the things she needed to know.

No matter where else it may be true, you are loved here. You belong here.

"I will not let you find my lodge empty again," he said. "Until the pack is safe, I will always be here for you."

Netya rested her forehead against his chin, her breath tickling the hollow of his throat. "How am I so fortunate to have earned your care?"

"There is no fortune in who you are, Netya. What you did for Adel took a warrior's bravery, and a seer's compassion. What you suffered for doing so would have overwhelmed a lesser woman. I believe the den mother is right in thinking you are destined for great things."

The compliment still sounded far too grand for Netya to believe it, but rather than dismissing his words, she allowed herself to wonder whether there might be some truth in them. Coming from Caspian, she was almost willing to consider it. He made her feel like more than she was.

She caressed his cheek, and kissed him. Their lips lingered, gently suckling and exploring, until she felt her tongue coaxed into his mouth, and a spark of something warmer burst in her belly. It was not needy lust she felt, or the exciting desire for pleasure that brought a smile of anticipation to her lips, but something deeper. She wanted to be with Caspian, more closely and more intensely than words and kisses would allow.

His desire mirrored her own, tugging her down with a hand on the back of her neck as his brow furrowed and his chest rumbled beneath her palms. She felt his manhood stirring between her thighs, and she helped him kick off his leggings until it was free. Shedding her own clothing, she pulled the furs over them to cocoon her naked body close against Caspian's.

The wooden pendant he had given her dangled from her neck, the symbol that meant her name resting against his heaving chest. She gazed down at it, a yearning heat spreading through her body as Caspian's fingertips caressed her ear, playing gently with the lobe.

"It feels different with you," she whispered. "I do not know why."

"I do," he said, pulling her down into another kiss. He parted the folds between her legs a moment later, his manhood finding its place inside her and pressing deep. He waited, making her ready for him, content to share in her kisses and the closeness of her body. There was no impatient need for release. It was not the goal either of them were pursuing that night.

Netya's hips moved naturally against him, seeking out the pleasure she could give her male, caressing him from base to tip with her internal warmth. Every subtle twitch or gasp of breath she elicited filled her with delight, just as her own signs of pleasure did for her partner. Their lovemaking dimmed the worries of the world, but not in the way she was used to. Rather than allowing mindless pleasure to blot out everything beyond the moment they shared, the feeling of being with Caspian burned like a fire in the darkness, bringing light and warmth to everything around them. It was not a refuge from the world, but rather a reminder that it still held pleasure and happiness great enough to eclipse even the most fearful of troubles.

Caspian's every attention was focused on pleasing the woman he cared for above all others, and Netya responded in kind. She did not live for the pleasure he could give her, but rather what she could give to him. She clung to his shoulders tight, the closeness of their breath and the heat beneath the furs making the air humid and their skin damp. His broad chest heaved beneath her breasts, his muscular stomach undulating beneath hers as he held her there with a palm against the small of her back. She felt him deep within her, pressing against her core, tugging at the string of satisfaction within her belly. She wanted to lie with him like this forever, without fatigue or discomfort ever dulling their urge to be joined.

Their pacing ebbed and surged, neither of them wanting to drive their lovemaking to its conclusion. Just as he had done the night in the alpha's den, Caspian tenderly stirred the climax within her, allowing it to swell and tighten, building her pleasure to such great heights that it was all she could do to contain it. She gasped and whimpered into his neck, sounds of love and longing, kissing him desperately over and over again. He held her there on the brink of ecstasy, drawing her deep into his kisses as his gentle strokes slowed, almost allowing her to fall back from the edge before pushing her on just a little further than she felt herself able to go.

When Netya's climax finally broke free, it was with a complete loss of breath and speech, her grip tightening and her muscles shuddering as white-hot pleasure burned all thoughts but those of Caspian from her mind. She was giddy and blind, the surge of intensity feeling almost like it was dragging her consciousness away into the spirit world as one peak ebbed and another crested in its place, over and over until she lost precious seconds of consciousness, only to come back a moment later, stirred to new heights by Caspian's groans of pleasure in her ear, the tightening of his grip, the surge of his manhood pulsing inside her, filling her with his own climax.

The keenness of the moment gradually faded once it was spent, but the warmth remained. Netya clung to Caspian with a smile on her lips, sprawled across his chest as their bodies heaved with breathless exertion. The yearning she felt for him had reached its culmination, but it would never truly be satisfied. Her feelings for Caspian made her want to curl up against him and sink into the furs until their spirits mingled and became one, until every part of her was his and ever part of him hers. He made the ache of everything that had been lost, the fear of what tomorrow would bring, and every uncertainty she felt for herself fade away in favour of their future together. It was too bright a star to be dulled by the weight of the world.

The pair did not sleep until long into the night. When they were not making love, they were talking of the things they would share with no one else, or savouring the closeness of one another without the need for words. To say it was the happiest night of Netya's life would have been false, for so many things had happened recently to dull true happiness.

It was, however, the most fulfilling.

Two days later, the warnings began.

At first the scouts reported one fire, then another, until every morning they were returning with word of another blaze sighted out on the plains. The Sun People knew the importance of secrecy while they were in the territory of their enemies, and it was rare to see so much as a single campfire from the hunting parties that strayed so far afield. The bonfires they were burning now had not been built in the name of secrecy.