Daughter of the Moon (The Moon People, Book Two) (58 page)

When Caspian reached the top of the steep slope and caught sight of them again his eyes shot immediately to his woman, a growl leaving his muzzle as he dashed forward.

Netya called out his name, willing him to stop. The sound of her voice seemed to cut through whatever madness had possessed him, and he faltered in his charge, coming to a halt a short distance from the wall of snarling jaws that now faced him.

"I should have known. Only a man would have the courage to lead these females out of their den to face me," Miral said, taking another step forward and tugging Netya with him. "You came for this woman? She is yours?"

Caspian growled at the alpha, feral eyes burning with a hatred Netya had never before seen in him. She could not say she felt any different toward Miral, but any thoughts of retribution were far from her mind at that moment. The downpour was quickly soaking her hair, plastering it against her cheeks as she blinked rain and tears from her eyes.

With what looked like an immense effort and a groan of pain, Caspian reverted from the shape of his wolf, shoulders knotted and fists clenched as he rose up on two feet. Adel mounted the top of the slope behind him, free from her wolf also as she clutched her damp gown to her body. Her eyes met Netya's, relief registering for an instant before her expression turned cold again.

"Release her," Caspian said, his voice thick and scratchy with the lingering essence of his wolf.

"Take her from me, if you can," Miral replied, digging his fingers into the back of Netya's neck and pushing down until she was forced to her knees.

Caspian's gaze flitted over the warriors surrounding him, silently taking in their numbers.

Be wise,
Netya implored him.
Be cunning, as you always are.

But her man seemed to grow impatient, fixing his attention back on Miral along with an accusatory finger. "I challenge you. You alone."

"Afraid your women will fall to my warriors?"

Caspian shook his head. "You will lose as many as we do."

"How strong will your clan be at the next gathering if a dozen of its men are dead or maimed?" Adel said. From her tense expression it seemed clear that she did not approve of what Caspian was doing, but now that he had stepped forward she had little choice but to back up his challenge. Perhaps she knew that it was the only way to save her apprentice without risking even more lives.

"You speak wise words, Den Mother," Miral said, "but your clan stands to lose far more than mine. If you thought you could face me in battle, why did you hide behind your cursed magic last night?"

Though the alpha's words boasted confidence, Netya could sense that his followers were less eager to match wills with Adel again. They had seen the feats she had performed at the gathering, and the memories of the valley were still fresh in their minds. Now that Caspian had a coven of witches at his back, far fewer warriors seemed willing to bare their teeth at him.

"Do not do this for me—" Netya began, before a sharp blow from the back of Miral's hand sent her reeling, her palms hitting the earth as fresh pain exploded in her aching temple.

"You dare speak to your man of what he can and cannot do?" the alpha growled. "Challenges of honour are ours to make. You insult him with your cowardice."

Adel had to grip Caspian's shoulders to prevent him from lunging forward, his teeth bared as the wolf raged behind his eyes, impatient to break loose. He was not himself. Netya would have expected such a reaction from men like Kin or Khelt, but not Caspian. Seeing her hurt—seeing another man hold her life in his grasp—it seemed too much for her man to bear.

"I challenge you!" Caspian yelled. "You will give her back to us, and never set foot in our lands again!"

Miral curled his lip, savouring the agitation of his opponent as he rolled his shoulders and took a step forward. "You'd have me fight you without a leg?" He turned his palms outward, gesturing to his bound limb.

"Take first blood," Caspian replied. "Give me a wound to match yours, then we fight."

No!
Netya clawed at the grass, turning her tear-stained face toward Caspian, but his gaze was locked on Miral.

"First blood." The alpha nodded. "I accept."

Adel tried to say something to Caspian under her breath, but he shrugged her off impatiently and stepped forward, baring his body so that Miral could take the first strike.

"Someone cut these bindings," the alpha said, tossing his walking branch aside. One of the warriors brought his muzzle to Miral's thigh, worrying at the grass cords with his teeth until they snapped and the supporting splints fell away.

Netya's fingers were buried in the soft mud, her body soaked with rainwater as she watched helplessly from the ground, imploring Caspian to look her way, to stop what he was doing. Once, long ago, she had fantasised about him challenging Miral, but now that it was happening in front of her she wanted nothing more than for it to stop. She would rather be taken away, live among a foreign pack, sacrifice her own freedom rather than see Caspian or any more of her sisters hurt.

Miral adopted his animal form with a grunt of discomfort, his dark-furred wolf panting heavily for several moments as he settled his paws upon the grass, one hind leg tucked in gingerly against his side. If he had been in pain before, the effort of changing shape seemed to have brought him to the brink of collapse, and for a moment Netya dared to hope that he was too weak to fight. But after drawing in several heavy breaths, the alpha began to limp forward, eyeing Caspian up and down as he approached. Muzzle level with the other man's midsection, he stopped, swaying for a moment as he made a clumsy effort to lift his right forepaw.

Caspian tensed, readying himself for a slash of claws that would render one of his limbs as useless as his opponent's twitching hind leg. But before Miral could strike the blow, he teetered, huffing out a pained breath as his muzzle dipped and his paw dropped back to the ground. The alpha looked as though he was about to keel over, panting heavily as he stumbled at his opponent's feet.

The tension left Caspian's body, his brow twisting in agitation as he bent down toward the trembling wolf. Then Miral surged upward with a bloodthirsty growl, muzzle drawn back from his teeth as he lunged not for Caspian's arms or legs, but his unprotected throat.

There was no time for him to react. Netya knew it was a killing wound. Any pretence of honour or respect Miral might have held toward his opponent disappeared in an instant. The alpha sank his fangs into Caspian's neck, the bite quick and sharp, striking exactly where it needed to. Blood spilled from the wound, too much and too quickly to leave any doubt in Netya's mind as she looked on in horror.

Caspian staggered, fingers pressed to the mortal wound in a hopeless attempt to staunch it. He stumbled to the edge of the slope behind him, turned his eyes to Netya, and collapsed into the grass.

The cry of anguish that left her lips felt like it would tear her heart in two.

—39—

Miral's Retribution

A pair of strong hands held Netya back as she wept, kicking up mud around her heels as she struggled to break free and crawl to Caspian's side. The shock of what Miral had done hit her harder than the loss of Meadow and Selo combined. Not Caspian. Not him too.

Adel and two of the others were kneeling over him, their hands covered with blood as they tried to lend their aid in staunching his wound, but his body was growing stiller by the moment.

"Leave him!" Miral bellowed, the alpha visibly shaking as he struggled to rise up on two legs. "He had his challenge, now he dies for it. Leave him, or I open the sun wolf's throat next!"

"You coward," Adel hissed, her voice cracking with unbridled anger. "You honourless filth!"

Miral let out a breathy laugh, hauling himself upright with the aid of his walking branch after one of his warriors handed it back to him. "I'll not hear your forked tongue again, woman. I show no honour to those who consort with demons."

Netya continued to struggle, even as the alpha shouldered aside the warrior who had been holding her and wrapped his fingers around her neck. She choked on her own tears as he squeezed, dragging her after him until she was on her knees in front of the others. Her fingernails raked at his arm, drawing blood, but not enough to make Miral relinquish his grip. He squeezed harder, crushing her throat until she could no longer breathe.

"Leave him!" the alpha repeated, and this time the sound of Netya's choking gasps forced the den mother to pay attention.

Staring at Miral with eyes that were no longer cold, but full of darkness, she took her hands off Caspian and rose slowly to her feet. "The spirits will take your soul—"

"What did I say, woman?" Miral barked, twisting Netya's neck to emphasise his point.

Adel fell silent, she and her clan standing helpless in the rain as the alpha held another struggling life in his grasp.

"Come to me, witch."

The den mother obeyed, each step as pained as if she had been treading barefoot upon a bed of thorns.

"You care for this sun wolf's life?" Miral said. "Then get on your knees and beg me for it. Learn your place at an alpha's feet."

Black spots were beginning to bloom in Netya's vision. She twisted her legs beneath her, clawing ever more weakly at Miral's hand as she felt her strength slipping away.

Just finish it,
she thought.
She'll never kneel to you. Let me go. Let me be with my Caspian.

But when the alpha's fingers loosened and colour swam back into Netya's world, a jolt of dismay wrenched her stomach as she saw her mentor kneeling before them. She looked desperate, hopeless, and for once devoid of the power that had always surrounded her.

"I beg you," Adel said quietly, "spare her."

Netya was not sure whether it was rain or tears she saw running down the den mother's face.

"You see, my warriors?" Miral said. "This is how her will breaks beneath true strength. A man's strength. I could end your life now, Sorceress. Even if you slew me and many of my warriors as we fought, the memory of you and your coven would die here in the shadow of this cave.” The alpha snorted. “At least it would be an honourable end. You have your warrior to thank for that much." He jerked his head in the direction of Caspian's body.

Adel stared at Netya, never before having seemed so utterly helpless. Though her jaw was set and her eyes unblinking, Netya could tell that any ability the den mother had to help her was now gone.

No—not completely gone. The last thing Adel had, the part of herself that she had always clung on to so fiercely, the part that never faltered or failed, was what she offered up in exchange for her apprentice's life. She sacrificed her pride for Netya, gifting it to Miral as the one thing that might stay his hand. It was true, he did hold power over them, and he had made them wretched with his relentless cruelty.

The alpha tutted a mirthless noise of contempt. "You always spoke the words of a wise elder, Adel, but you were nothing more than a finch trying to outsing the crows. This one will learn, and then you will too. A pack of women cannot survive without an alpha."

"Leave us in peace, and spare Netya's life," Adel murmured. "We will not cross into your territory again. We will set no more of our magic upon you."

"No, you will not," Miral said, tapping his chest sharply. "Because
I
say so. This girl's life belongs to me now. She lives or dies at my mercy. If you linger here or try to track us, she will meet the same fate as her man. And I promise you, her end will not be nearly as clean."

He reached out to try and lift Adel's chin with a crooked finger, but she flinched away at his touch, unable to keep the hatred out of her expression any longer.

Miral smiled. "One day soon that spirit of yours will break. You will come to me on your knees and beg for a place in my clan. How many more you lose before that happens is your choice, Sorceress." His nostrils flared as he shoved Netya to the ground, the heel of his uninjured foot coming down on the back of her neck to press her face into the dirt. She was too weak to resist, tasting the silty mud between her lips as it wet her face and soaked into her hair.

All she knew was despair in that moment. Hopeless abandonment by everything she had ever believed in. Love. Destiny. Providence. Had all of her visions from the moon spirit been lies? How could Syr be watching over them if she was willing to subject her sons and daughters to such cruelty? How could her Caspian, her wise, brave, tender Caspian, have met his end like this? His light had been taken from the world, while Miral's evil still remained.

Her body shook as she sobbed into the mud. The spirit world held no demons like the man standing over her. He was the monster, the beast—the kind of horror that all fears were born from. Futile hate. Helpless misery. He had burned a black hole in her heart, and into it drained all the things that had ever been pure and wonderful in Netya's life.

"Go, Witch," Miral said. "Back to your den. And Tamnin, follow their trail. Make sure they do as I say."

The warrior looked to his alpha fearfully. "Alone?"

"They will not harm you. Not if they care for the life of this sun wolf."