Daughter of the Moon (The Moon People, Book Two) (3 page)

He had suspected he might enjoy it, and his suspicions often proved to be correct. This, however, was not one of those times.

He ran a hand through his soft brown hair as the women prepared their midday meal around the fire, talking of the ebb of the seasons and the glimpses of insight the spirits had gifted them into what the coming months might hold. He missed his friend Khelt. He missed talking with the hunters. He even missed the juvenile ribbing and banter of his male companions that had often exasperated him in the past.

Among their group of twenty, only two other men had chosen to accompany them when they split off from Khelt's pack. Rokan and Hari. They were the mates of two of the women. Reliable and honest types, both dedicated to their females. Caspian got on well enough with both of them, but they were unable to provide him with the kind of companionship he desired. He had always considered himself a voice of reason, a calming presence to soothe the hot heads of the more impulsive males around him. Now that there was no one left for him to calm, he felt at odds with himself.

His wolf was restless, nipping at the back of his mind like an impatient pup. It had taken him many long nights of pondering, but he had finally come to realise exactly what had been causing it. The pack mentality of his wolf was something deep and instinctual. To the beast within him, the world was expected to work in a certain way, and now that things had changed he was having trouble adapting. A pack needed an alpha. A strong male to take charge. And now that everyone else was gone, who was left to take charge but him?

He had never liked leading. He possessed the courage and wisdom for it, certainly, but not the inclination. He preferred to counsel and advise, guiding from the background rather than bearing the burdens of an alpha on his own two shoulders.

Even so, the restless patter of his wolf's feet continued in the back of his mind, drawing that tug of primal masculinity closer to the surface day by day. It was not helped by the fact that many of the women around him had given up mates or partners to travel with Adel, and they had gone without male company between the furs for many weeks now. Some were happy to share such pleasures with their pack-sisters instead, but for most it was no substitute for the company of a man. He had noticed their enticing glances, their veiled invitations. He was, after all, the only male among them who was not yet mated. There was nothing to say he could not take one or more of them to his bed if he wished to.

But he already had a female he desired, and he still remembered how it had made him feel to see her in the company of another man. Netya was his love, if not yet his mate, and he would not make her feel unwanted by indulging in the primal temptations of his wolf. There were times and places for them to be open in their love, and now was not one of them.

"Miss the peace and quiet of the outcrop?" a husky female voice said behind him, and he looked over to see Briar stepping out of the trees with a large hunk of rock tucked beneath one well-toned arm. She dropped the small boulder next to him with a thud, clearing her throat noisily as she reached up to tuck a few loose locks of her chestnut hair back into the tight braid she wore coiled around the back of her head.

"How could you tell?" he said with a smile. Unlike most of the others, Briar was not a seer, and her simple, practical attitude was a breath of fresh air among the rest of the group.

"You're like a chunk of rock." She kicked his side lightly. "I could knap a knife out of you."

"I am becoming Khelt," he murmured. "I used to say the same thing to him."

Briar sat down and spat on her palms, picking up her smooth hammerstone as she began to roll her boulder around and dust off the dirt, examining it with the eye of a craftswoman. "Miss being able to tell him what to do?"

Caspian opened his mouth to disagree, then paused, letting out a long breath. Her words would have been deeply inappropriate were Khelt still their alpha, but times had changed. "Yes. I miss many things. But what can I do? We all have new places to find now."

"You're just upset Adel doesn't let you boss her around. Must be tough for a man, hm?"

Caspian leaned back, giving her a knowing look as she teased. "As long as Adel continues to lead us wisely, I have no desire to stand in her way."

Briar brought down her hammerstone against the boulder with a loud crack, making several of the others jump and shoot perplexed glances her way. The craftswoman ignored them, cracking off the cortex from around the edge of the piece of flint with a series of practised strokes.

"You need to find some way to work out that tension," she said, then lowered her voice, becoming more serious. "Everyone looks up to you, you know. Alpha or not, you're the senior male here."

Briar's words only served to tighten the stiffness running up Caspian's back. Worse, he felt the way his wolf seemed to perk up with a triumphant snarl at her praise.

"Then they will have to learn to do without a senior male. Netya is the only woman whose attentions I care for."

Briar shrugged, focusing back on her work. "You'll leave a lot of others disappointed. Though maybe that's wise. Once we start fighting over you, there'll be no stopping us."

Caspian appreciated her cordial company, but this time it was proving to be more uncomfortable than it was worth. He disliked feeling so conflicted, and Briar was only stoking the fire inside him.

Thankfully it was not long until Netya and her companions returned, and he took the excuse to leave Briar with her work and run to greet his woman. The way her eyes lit up when she caught sight of him soothed the simmering conflict in his heart, and as soon as she was in reach her drew her close to his broad chest, sighing with pleasure as he felt her warm breath against his neck.

"Even a single morning is too long to go without you," he said softly, bending his neck to kiss her.

Wren turned away with a flush. The young girl was of an age when questions of love and romance were beginning to burn hot in her mind, yet she had no boys her own age to explore them with.

Netya kissed him back, then drew away with a palm against his chest, her expression set with a firmness he recognised all too well. She had been a timid girl when he first met her, but over the past several months under Adel's tutelage
—and especially since the emergence of her inner wolf—she had grown far more confident in her desires.

"We must speak with Adel," she said. "We met hunters of a rival pack this morning, and a group of Sun People too."

His brow furrowed with concern. "They saw you?"

"Yes, I spoke with them. Their leader was kind and respectful, but Fern is still worried."

"We will tell the whole story in the den mother's tent," Fern said, motioning for them to follow.

Netya tried to tug free of Caspian's grasp, but he held on to her a moment longer, letting the others stray out of earshot. She only resisted briefly before relenting to his hold, and it stirred something within him to sense her inner wolf rolling over in deference. A strange dance went on between their wolves whenever they were together these days. It was a subtle undercurrent to every conversation, every hunt, every time they made love. It was curious and enticing, but also ambiguous in a way only an animal's instincts could be.

"Were you in any danger?" he said.

She hesitated for a moment, then nodded. "I was almost wounded."

Caspian's chest rumbled with a soft murmur of breath. "Stay close by me when we travel tomorrow."

She nodded silently, then squeezed his hand. "Adel may be unhappy with us. Will you be there for me?"

"Of course. Come, let us hear what she has to say." He kept his arm around her shoulders as he guided them in the direction of the den mother's tent, trying not to listen to the still-growing swell of male pride that had risen in his chest. He was not an alpha. He was not there to take charge.

And yet, it had felt good to tell Netya to stay by him, and better still to see the submissive acquiescence in her eyes. He clenched his jaw and pushed the nagging tug of his wolf back down. He did not need to listen to those base cravings.

* * *

Even after many months, Netya still believed Adel was the most strikingly beautiful woman to ever grace the waking world. Ice-blue eyes painted with dark charcoal, she stood taller than most men, her thick black hair spilling down her shoulders as she looked up at them from the opposite side of the fire that occupied her small tent. Both mature and young at the same time, she was the wisest, shrewdest, and most powerful woman Netya had ever known. Everything about her made others feel small and humble in her presence.

"What?" she said sharply as the three of them entered her abode, setting aside the collection of black feathers in her lap. She had been collecting them for weeks, stopping to pick them up while travelling, or sending Netya and her sisters off with specific instructions to hunt the black-feathered birds when they were in need of food. Whatever she was doing with them, Netya suspected the den mother had her own cunning reasons.

The three of them sat down on the opposite side of Adel's fire, Fern and Netya taking turns explaining what had happened. Caspian remained quiet, stroking his neatly trimmed stubble as he gazed into the flames. Adel did not interrupt either, but her expression darkened as the tale went on, glowering at the two young women until Netya found it difficult to meet her eyes.

The den mother remained silent for a short while after they had finished, making them wait while she collected her thoughts. "I know of Alpha Turec," she said at last. "He leads one of the northernmost packs. Not a powerful clan, but a respected one. I did not know we had strayed so close to his territory."

"He mentioned another alpha as well," Netya said, trying to remember the name.

"Miral," Fern added. "Turec believed we might be from his pack."

"Miral's clan rivals the size of Khelt's," Adel said. "He is the one who stakes claim to most of the lands this side of the mountains. If we are close to his territory also, then we must be especially careful."

"We must move on soon," Caspian spoke up for the first time. "I remember Turec from the last gathering of the packs. He is an honourable man, but fiercely proud. He did not seem the sort to wait idly while strangers trespass in his land."

Adel grunted, fixing her glower on Netya. "We leave tonight. With any luck they will give up on tracking us if our trail is old by the time they find it. Look at me, girl," she snapped.

Netya jerked her chin up sharply, her throat tightening as she faced her mentor's ire.

"One reckless victory does not grant you the wisdom to be so foolish with your own life, let alone the lives of your pack-sisters. You have kindness in your heart, but kindness is not something to be spared so lightly."

"I did not wish to see anyone hurt," Netya replied, but the den mother quickly cut her off.

"The world is a large place, girl. Lives come and go day by day. Though it is our duty as seers to cherish them, you must learn when and where to spare your aid."

"I believed I was the only one who could help
—"

"And if you had lost your life?" Adel snapped. "How many more people would have had to go without your aid in the years to come? In all the months I have spent training you, I would have thought you might have more respect for your own safety by now."

"That is enough," Caspian said softly, just as Netya felt the warmth of tears touching the corners of her eyes. Such harsh words hurt the most when they came from Adel.

"She is not a child in need of your protection," the den mother replied, leaning across the embers to grasp her apprentice by the chin. "Let this be the last time I must say this to you, girl. Learn to control your heart, and learn to control your wolf. We are feathers swept up in a gale. One mistake will be all it takes to scatter us to the winds. Let us hope yours was not it." She let go, looking away with a snort. "Now go, tell the others we are leaving. They will be travelling through the night until we are far beyond the reach of Turec's territory."

It was sometimes easy for Netya to forget how terrified she had been of Adel when she first came to Khelt's pack. The two of them had grown close since then, but from time to time she experienced a cold reminder of how harsh her mentor could be. The den mother had little patience for failure or foolishness. She had lived a harsher life than any of them, and it had left her with a hardened shell that rarely split open to release the warmth that still lingered inside.

Swallowing the lump in her throat, Netya nodded and rose to her feet with the others, feeling Fern squeeze her hand as they stepped out of the tent.

"She is harder on you than the rest of us," her friend said. "I still think you were brave."

Netya nodded, but it did little to make her feel better. It sometimes felt like an impossible task, living up to Adel's standards. There was so much left for her to learn, and she was forever struggling to achieve it in her mentor's shadow. Now more than ever, when their group was small and vulnerable, without so much as a den to call its own, she felt overburdened by the weight of responsibility resting on her in the eyes of the den mother.

She brushed the back of a hand across her eyes before Caspian could see, drawing herself up and squaring her shoulders. In many ways, her life had been easier when she felt small and helpless. A naive young girl without the skills of a hunter or the insight of a seer. She had been a simple concubine to an alpha back then, and he had done his very best to shield her from the harsh challenges of life. Now that she had embraced them, however, there was no turning back.