The Alpha's Concubine (Historical Shifter Romance) (62 page)

Netya soothed her, still not quite believing what she had just done. "What was that word they called me?" she said, looking to her mentor.

Adel smiled. "Little Mother. It is as it sounds. A name for a woman who will one day be den mother to her pack." She put a hand on Netya's shoulder, looking on her with pride. Pride, and a glimmer of something darker. "Few women could best a huntress like Vaya. You have their respect now, and their fear."

Netya shivered, preferring to cling on to Fern than to let herself be encouraged by her mentor's words. "I do not want to be feared."

"Better they fear you than believe you are helpless. The cunning to best a rival like Vaya is a powerful gift of the night, in their eyes." Adel ran a finger beneath a lock of Netya's dark hair. "Make it your strength, and fear will dissuade others like Vaya from ever challenging you again."

For many months, Netya had expected she would sleep much more soundly with Vaya gone from the pack. That night, she only felt the hollow of absence. The sort of power Adel sought to cultivate in her was not a path to happiness. If there had been any other way to bring an end to her feud, she would have taken it. Would Vaya go on to bring her troubles to another pack? Would she seek to take vengeance on others of the Sun People? Or would she die alone out there on the plains, abandoned by those who had once been her kin?

Netya did not even know if Vaya had family who cared for her among the pack. If she did, none of them had tried to stop her from leaving. What kind of a life had the huntress lived to shape her into the person she had become?

She clutched her furs to her chest, seeking out their warmth to dispel her sombre thoughts. It had been the empty clarity of losing Caspian that had allowed her to see the path to outwitting Vaya. Cold, cunning tact, bereft of the worry for herself and others that might have led to more caution. It was the life Adel had lived to make her a figure of such fear and respect. Adel, who for all of her power and wisdom, remained distant from the embrace of love and friendship.

The Little Mother was not a person Netya wanted to be.

—
46—

Lost in a Storm

For all those who respected Netya's besting of her rival, Khelt was not among them. The news reached his ears quickly after his return the following day. He seemed tired. Flecks of melting snow clung to his fur cloak, and his eyes were hollow with a lack of sleep. An impatient snarl crossed his face when he learned of what had happened, and Netya almost expected him to accost her right there in front of the pack. He held himself in check, however, waiting until she was alone before taking her aside behind one of the tents. Gripping her by the shoulders, he looked on his mate-to-be as if he was admonishing a disobedient child.

"What authority do you have to make such decisions, Netya?" he said. "Spirits help me, if we had the time I would lead scouts out to bring back Vaya myself. Every strong hunter is precious to us in times like this, and Vaya was one of my best. The result of your squabbles may end up harming our pack more than you know. It is my place to deal with such things, not yours."

"You told us to resolve it between ourselves," Netya replied, undaunted by the way Khelt loomed over her. "I only did as you suggested. If there was any other way, I would have taken it."

The alpha let out a sigh of frustration. "This is why packs follow a single alpha. You know I would have done all I could to help you, but I would not have weakened the whole for the sake of any one person, not even you. Vaya may not have been a likeable woman, but the pack would have gone hungry many times without her."

"She was the one who poisoned Adel. She all but admitted it to me."

Khelt paused. "Is that true?"

"Adel and I suspected it for a long time. You do not know how much Vaya detested me. She would have risked the den mother's own life to persuade the pack of my guilt."

"So Adel had a hand in this," Khelt growled.

"No, that is not the point!" Netya put a hand on his chest. "I did what I did of my own accord. It brought me no pleasure to see the back of Vaya, but the pack is better off without her. It was the only way."

"You say you make these decisions on your own," Khelt said, "and yet they still seem born of the witch's schemes. I have heard what the others have started calling you. She is shaping you into her own image."

"I have learned many things from the den mother, yes, but I am not her, nor do I wish to be. Surely you do not detest her so much that you would deny bringing her poisoner to justice?"

Khelt worked his jaw back and forth, glowering past her at the tent wall. "Perhaps Vaya was treacherous, perhaps not. Perhaps Adel wanted the pack rid of her and used you to make it happen. Whatever the truth may have been, it was my place to decide it, no one else's. You should have brought your worries to me."

"Perhaps so." Netya gave him a pleading look. "But would your distaste for Adel have blinded you to the truth?"

"Blind me?! Spirits give me strength, Netya." He shook her by the shoulders. "How do you know that you are not the one being blinded by the witch's lies?"

His distrust hurt. The alpha professed that he loved her, but his love was still bound to the idea of an attentive, obedient mate. That was not the woman she had become.

"I am not just your pet concubine any more," she said. "There are things I can understand for myself."

The frustration in Khelt's eyes softened slightly. He relaxed his grip on her shoulders. "Forgive me," he said. "I do not mean to treat you as a child, but you are still a woman, Netya. The leadership of the pack is the charge of men. Adel would have you think otherwise, and that is why you must be wary of her. Our people would not fare well under her guidance."

"They would fare better if the two of you combined your strength rather than fighting one another. Surely agreeing to leave the outcrop is proof of that?"

"I do not wish to have this discussion again," Khelt said, straightening up. "It is neither the time nor place. We have found a pass through the mountains, but the snows threaten to swamp it before long. I will lead the pack through at first light."

Netya pressed her lips together stubbornly. His intentions were good, but he refused to listen. He was the alpha, and she was just his female. Everything was well between them until she attempted to step outside of that role.

"Come," Khelt said, giving her a smile. "Sit with me by the fire. I have said my piece. Let us enjoy the evening together and rest well before tomorrow. The crossing will be difficult on all of us, and I will need your strength to help those who are less able." He tugged her close to his side, guiding her back toward the middle of the camp. Netya's feet were stubborn, but she soon gave up and relented. At least she had swayed him away from fixating on Adel. That, perhaps, was the best she could hope for.

Fortune had been with the scouts in their search for a safe crossing. The path they had happened upon wound through a valley between two peaks, circumventing the treacherous slopes and crags that loomed higher up. It was safe, but that safety would not last long. Hail rattled down on the pack's tents during the night, and by midday they had trekked high enough into the mountains for it to turn to snow. The valley stretching before them was already clad in white. Sagging trees clung on desperately by the roots to the slopes on either side, becoming thicker farther on until they blocked the view ahead completely. The scouts assured them that the valley opened out on to a gentle slope that led down from the mountains on the opposite side, but from where they stood it seemed a long and unsteady trek. Snow was flurrying down from the higher slopes fast, and already the trail the scouts had left the previous day had been obscured. The wolves tried to follow their old scents, but even those seemed to have been scattered by the weather.

"We will freeze in this valley if the snows catch us," Adel said. "Perhaps there is a better way."

"What way?" Khelt growled. "The snows come to these mountains quicker than they do the plains. Every pass like this will be lost within a few days. We must push forward, while there is still time."

"If we go north we can skirt the mountains completely," the den mother replied.

"And how many weeks will that take us? The pack is already tired. We follow this route."

Adel glowered after him as he strode ahead, taking the lead down into the valley. "Again he toys with fate. The snow will not stop, no matter how hard he bares his teeth at it," she said to Netya.

"Then we must make haste, so that he does not have to."

Netya fell back to help the others as they strode through the snow around their ankles. Most of the pack, even the elders, soon took to the legs of their wolves to fight through the cold and difficult footing. Many belongings that had been tirelessly carried across the plains were abandoned as they went, a string of discarded bundles following in the pack's wake as carrying them became too cumbersome for the increasingly four-legged group.

Despite the stamina she had built up over the days of travelling, Netya was exhausted within a few hours. The snowfall became even thicker at the base of the valley, to the extent that the more able-bodied pack members were forced to clear a path ahead for the others. Netya's toes felt like they were freezing inside her fur-stuffed moccasins, and even with the aid of her spear as a walking pole she began to struggle.

Later that afternoon, her feet finally went out from under her. She tripped headlong into a drift of icy snow, the impact stinging her numb face painfully. A moment later Caspian was at her side, hauling her up and brushing the flakes from her clothing.

"Do not let the others see you fall," he said, his expression pained with sympathy. "Those lagging behind are more exhausted than any of us. It is only our strength that keeps them going."

Netya looked back, nodding as she squinted through the flurry of snowfall. It was so thick now that she could barely even make out the tail end of the group.

Caspian followed her gaze. "I will go back and make sure no one falls behind. Stay strong, Netya. I know you can."

"I will." Heat warmed her face for a moment as she squeezed his hand without thinking. She wanted him at her side, giving her the strength to keep going. He smiled at her, restraining the twitch of his fingers than threatened to squeeze back. Then he was gone, taking the shape of his wolf to wade back through the snow toward the end of the column.

Netya forced herself to go on, gripping her spear with both hands as she hauled herself ahead of the group. Khelt called a brief rest late in the afternoon when they found shelter beneath an overhang, but the few small fires the pack were able to kindle did little to rejuvenate their spirits. The snow had slowed their progress significantly. They had not even reached the thicket of trees they had glimpsed earlier in the day.

Adel shook her head with worry as the seers sat huddled around her fire. "He has underestimated this weather," she said. "We reached the mountains too late. A few able-bodied scouts may have been able to make this crossing yesterday, but the rest of the pack will not fare so well."

"We must have hope," Netya said. "Khelt will lead us through this."

"It is not too late to turn back. The snows will only get deeper the farther we go into this valley."

"Please," Netya said, tugging at her mentor's furs, "do not make this another battle between the two of you. Not at a time like this."

Adel stared into the fire, saying nothing. Netya prayed she would listen. The pack could not afford to falter when their spirits were already on the verge of breaking. They had to weather the storm.

Rather than making camp in their sheltered spot, Khelt had them back on their feet within the hour. Daylight still lingered, and the snow was only getting worse. He understood as keenly as anyone that they had to make it out of the valley as soon as possible.

Dragging herself back to her weary feet, Netya joined the procession of wolves as they shuffled out from beneath the overhang and resumed their journey. The route Khelt had chosen took them along the side of the valley, up a narrow ribbon of flat rock that served as a natural path. The snow was not so deep, and the footing more consistent, but by the time night fell the pack was walking with a sheer drop to the valley floor on their left side.

Wind tugged at Netya's furs, whipping her hair into her face until she was forced to tie it back in a knot. She tried her best to assist those who needed help, but before long she had little energy to do anything but keep her own feet moving forward. The Moon People seemed to be faring a little better with the stamina of their wolves, but even they were struggling. Adel hurried up and down the column tirelessly, making sure the strongest among them worked in shifts to carry the weakest upon their backs. In such a time of need, all of the den mother's regal mystique vanished. She did not hold herself back in her reserved, aloof manner while others were suffering. She was simply a seer that night, tending those in need of aid with sympathy and words of encouragement. It changed her. With the image of the stern den mother abandoned, Netya wondered whether she was looking upon the compassionate young woman who had become a seer all those years ago, before she had been traded away by her pack as a token of peace.

Caspian was the same, carrying Wren and several of the other youngsters on his back when their legs failed them. He stayed near the rear of the group, just as he had said, making sure that if any of the stragglers fell, he would be there to pick them up. While Adel was ceaseless in giving out her instructions, Caspian barely said a word. He was not a leader. His greatest strength lay elsewhere. While he might have stepped in to give orders in the absence of anyone else, he preferred to give his aid directly, focusing on one person at a time. Perhaps that was why he was not alpha himself. He preferred to focus on the individuals. His attention was intimate, personal, and passionate. The detachment of guiding a group as a whole did not come naturally to him. He cared too much.