The Alpha's Concubine (Historical Shifter Romance) (9 page)

Some of the others who Fern seemed to regard as friends made attempts to introduce themselves to Netya as she ate. She appreciated the effort, but there was little conversation to be had other than an exchange of names and a few uncertain words, with Fern doing her best to translate. It was true that those among them who spoke Netya's language seemed to be in the minority, and it disappointed her that she was unable to speak properly with them.

Caspian arrived at the central fire a little later, and she took the opportunity to try and engage him in conversation. He responded politely to her, but it was clear that his mind was elsewhere, and it was with a strange feeling of disappointment that she left him to his meal and returned to her place beside Fern.

"I must learn to speak as you do," she said. "Or I will have only myself to talk to when you are not around."

"Are you sure? It may take some time. I spent many summers journeying to meet the North People before I could speak as well as them."

"Your words do not sound so different to mine. You call a fire a fire and a tree a tree, don't you? And I have heard you say many other things that I recognise as well."

"I told you you were sharp-minded." Fern grinned. "Alright, perhaps you will learn far faster than I did. And you will have more time than a few weeks every summer to pick it up, too."

Netya wondered, vaguely, whether long ago the Moon People might have spoken the same language as her own. She remembered her grandmother's mother, a woman who had lived far longer than most, sometimes using words that she did not understand. Perhaps after a great many years people simply forgot some words, just as they made up new ones when they discovered things that no words existed to describe. Metal, the material of tools that had allowed her people to build a great many new things, had not existed in her village in the time of her grandmother's mother. When the travellers from the far east had first begun to trade it with them, a new word had been born to describe it. In a hundred years, a hundred new words might be born. How many words did the Moon People have? More than a hundred, certainly. Into numbers beyond counting.

A sudden cry rang out from the other side of the camp. Whatever it was, it seemed important, stirring even the lounging wolves to their feet as the entire group hurried in the direction of the call, meals forgotten and conversations abandoned as each person jostled to find a space on the northern edge of the outcrop.

"What is happening?" Netya asked as Fern urged her to her feet and tugged her in the direction of the others.

"The hunters are back, and the news sounds good!"

Caught up in the infectious atmosphere, Netya found herself standing on tiptoes to try and peer over the shoulders of those in front of her.

"You shouldn't miss the sight of your first successful hunt," Caspian's voice sounded behind her. "Here, climb up." He made a step for her foot with his hands, and she eagerly gripped his shoulders and hoisted herself up, balancing against him as he held her weight with ease.

On the plains below a column of people approached, flanked by three wolves on either side. Those in the middle carried something between them, while a single figure strode out ahead to lead the way. For a moment Netya thought it might be Khelt, but he was nowhere to be seen, neither with the hunters or the rest of the pack.

A resounding cheer went up from the group around her, and the hunters in the distance responded with howls of their own. Everyone was talking excitedly, and Netya could understand not a word of it. But even without language, the relief and elation of the pack was obvious. For the first time she found herself completely forgotten as the returning hunters stole away the attention of the Moon People.

Caspian shifted to brace her weight more securely against his hip, and she felt the firm motion of his muscles working beneath her fingers. A warm flush lit her body as she imagined how those muscles might feel without the barrier of clothing covering them. How Caspian's strong grip might feel when applied to other parts of her body. She took a deep breath and pried her thoughts away from such cravings, returning her attention to the procession of hunters as they made their way to the base of the outcrop and up the path.

Caspian let her down as the group broke apart and rushed to meet their returning brethren, and before she could even thank him he had disappeared again into the crowd. Amidst the clamour of raucous voices and cheers of victory she found her way back to Fern's side, and was finally able to get a good look at the hunters as the group parted to allow them through.

Even she was impressed by the spoils. The slain beasts the group had returned with were so large Netya was amazed that the thick wooden poles they were lashed to —and the men carrying them—did not buckle under their weight. She did not recognise the animals, but they reminded her a little of oversized goats, and each one alone would certainly provide enough meat to feed the entire pack.

She turned her attention to the hunter leading the procession, and was surprised to see that it was not a man as she had first assumed, but a woman. This was no mother or seer. The girl seemed tall and wiry enough to challenge any man's strength, and she wore a look of such satisfaction and confidence that Netya felt humbled just by being in her presence. In her ears she wore sharp spikes of bone, and she had cut her hair almost to the scalp on one side of her head while the other half remained long and braided. Netya felt fortunate that it was Fern she and Layon had run into two nights ago and not this woman.

The congratulations continued as the hunters passed through, but the group moved back and kept at a respectful distance as the spoils were borne to the central fire. It seemed that some tradition had to be observed before the hunters could rest and the meat be butchered.

"Vaya was not leading the hunt when they set out," Fern said to her. "She must have been the one to track down the animals and make the first kill."

"Vaya is the woman in front?" Netya replied.

Fern nodded. "Women rarely claim the hunter's prize, but this is not the first time Vaya has done it. Tal, the hunt leader, cannot be very happy. This should have been his glory."

Netya watched in fascination as the hunters stopped next to the fire and their escort of wolves moved back. The men set down two of the large animals on the ground, leaving only Vaya standing beside the bearers that carried the third. She raised her hands to the sky and barked something that drew more shouts of elation from the pack, before clapping a palm against the flank of the slain best. It had not been killed with spears or knives. Instead several claw marks lined its hide, and the killing wound in the back of its neck looked to have been inflicted by long fangs.

The wrinkled elder who had taken Fern and Netya's baskets stepped forward, examining the kill for a moment before giving a grunt of approval. She then bent and brought a flint knife to the beast's throat, slitting it wide open and allowing the blood to spill freely on to the ground. Before the animal had bled out completely she filled a bowl with its draining life essence and presented it to Vaya. The voices of the pack subsided as all eyes turned to the victorious young woman, who accepted the bowl with a slight bow, before bringing it to her lips and drinking until it was empty.

That seemed to signal an end to the formalities. A final cheer went up from the crowd before they all rushed forward to congratulate the hunters, several people moving to begin the work of skinning and butchering the animals immediately. Vaya, Netya noticed, was being presented with gifts from the other pack members. Handfuls of food, small trinkets, and articles of clothing, all of which she accepted with great satisfaction.

"They seem very thankful to her," Netya said.

"We have had no successful hunts for many weeks now. She succeeded where others have failed, and now the whole pack will eat well again."

"People do not usually give gifts to the hunters in my village."

"Ah," Fern said, "but your people do not value the hunt as we do. This night is Vaya's. That is the hunter's prize. Until the sun rises tomorrow, she will be treated with the honour of the alpha himself. Those who give gifts seek to earn her favour for hunts she leads in the future. They hope to also share in her next glory, or perhaps even claim it for themselves."

Once the gifts had stopped coming and only congratulations were left, Vaya's eyes began roaming the area, and several knowing chuckles sounded from those nearby. Even Fern seemed amused.

"And of course, there is one other prize she also has the right to claim."

Vaya's gaze finally settled on one of the hunters who had come in with her, and she smiled with almost predatory satisfaction.

"Of course it would be Tal," Fern said. "The other men will not soon forget him losing favour to a woman, especially not after this."

The hunt leader Tal kept a steady expression as Vaya approached him, but his discomfort was obvious. One of the other men gave him a teasing shove, laughing with the others at some joke that had been made, presumably at Tal's expense. This seemed to please Vaya even more. She put an arm around the hunt leader's waist and said something to him, then tugged him away to come sit with her by the fire.

Netya had a vague idea of what was happening, but she was still confused.

"That," Fern said, sharing in the men's mirth, "is one of the few times you will ever see a woman lay claim to a man."

"She will lie with him tonight?"

"Tal would lose face if he refused. He has already lost much by letting Vaya claim his prize, and she knows it. After tonight, I do not think he will be leading many more hunts in place of her."

"Can the hunters take anyone they desire after such a victory?"

"It would depend on the victory," Fern explained. "This one is particularly special. Of course, it would be improper to try and lay claim to the alpha or those of high status, but the other pack members are theirs to choose from." She smiled and led them back to their seats to finish the meal they'd abandoned. "You know, Vaya chose me the second time she claimed the hunter's prize."

"Over a man?"

Fern nodded. "She values power over pleasure, and we were both apprentice hunters of equal status at the time. She is among the high hunters now."

Netya's thoughts tingled with curiosity. "What was it like?"

"Most men are gentle sheep compared to Vaya." Fern rolled her eyes. "I was glad to indulge her, but she made her point. I was no rival to her status after that night."

"That seems a strange thing to do in the name of power," Netya said as she watched Vaya curiously.

"It has everything to do with power," Fern replied, "even between close friends or lovers. One must always give, and one must always take. Even if the dominant lover switches, there are always moments of powerlessness on one person's part. Surely you felt it with the alpha last night?"

Netya pondered the question before responding. "It seems more frightening when you describe it that way. I was completely in his power. I don't know if I could have resisted him even if I'd wanted. He seemed in control the whole time."

"Sometimes you will be with a man and find the opposite to be true," Fern said. "He will be unsure, or apprehensive, and you will find yourself guiding his pleasure rather than allowing him to slake it as you submit."

"I cannot imagine someone like the alpha ever being unsure."

Fern chuckled. "He would not be, no. Few men are. That is why the others mock Tal. They know Vaya will not allow him to take her in the way he would want."

Netya thought about it a little more as she watched the pack heat flat cooking stones in the fire and butcher the fresh game. Before long the smell of sizzling meat was rich in the air, and she found herself growing hungry again despite having just eaten.

"I think I enjoyed the power the alpha had over me," she said at last. "It made him feel... I do not know, greater, somehow. And the pleasure he gave me was greater because of it. I would not have felt the same way with someone else."

"You will have to enjoy a great many more men before you make that decision," Fern said. "But yes, that is why the other women will envy you. Many of them desire to be taken by a man who embodies such power."

The tales of the hunt continued for a good hour as an impromptu banquet seemed to break out, the rationing of the food forgotten in light of the successful hunt. Fresh meat was cooked and shared freely, and before long the whole pack seemed to have gathered to eat and hear Vaya and her hunters recount their success. Netya understood only what Fern translated for her, but she enjoyed the jovial atmosphere and the warmth of the fire as night gradually fell upon the camp.

It took some time, but eventually she became aware of her name being mentioned once more. Once the buzz of the hunt had ebbed, the Moon People returned to discussing the second most interesting topic in their camp. The only one who seemed not to care was Vaya, who still wore the same prideful grin of victory she had sported since claiming her prize. Netya could hardly blame her. The night was hers, after all.

But Vaya's grin began to falter as the topic of conversation around her diverged time and again from the words Netya had come to associate with "hunt" and "hunter", to be replaced with increasingly frequent utterances of her own name and Khelt's. She began to grow uncomfortable, and when she next looked across the fire it was to see Vaya's unsmiling eyes staring back at her.