The Alpha's Concubine (Historical Shifter Romance) (15 page)

Worse, if his pack ever learned that Netya was to go free, they might kill her themselves. How could he defend such a decision to the people he was entrusted to protect?

He pressed a palm to his forehead, already tired. Caspian had been more right than he knew. Bringing the girl here had been a grave mistake.

—
12—

Vaya

It had surprised Netya to be woken with such news from the alpha. She thought she would have been pleased to hear that he had no intention of keeping her prisoner, but instead she left his den that morning with a strange hollow feeling in the pit of her stomach.

"But know this, Netya," he had said, his expression grave, a sadness in his eyes that she had never before seen. "If the day does come that you choose to leave our pack, you may never again return. And you may speak of this to no one, not even Fern. For your own sake as much as mine."

She had only nodded in response, Khelt's strange manner putting her on edge. She'd not considered that returning to her village might mean she never saw the Moon People again. It was not a decision she wanted to make. Living here with the pack, never seeing Layon or her sisters again... Her heart ached terribly to think of it; the endless future stretching out before her, devoid of anything she had come to know and hold dear.

And yet, the alternative seemed a quiet, grey life. If she returned to the village she would never again wake to the beautiful sight of the sun spilling across the plains for miles around. She would not ride on the backs of wolves, or lie with an alpha, or learn the rest of the mysteries the Moon People held. She would become Layon's woman, bear his children, and live the simple, contented life that had always been expected of her. A fine life, surely. But a life that denied the part of her that had been awoken the moment she touched the skull on the farm wall.

"At least the choice is yours now," Caspian said, as if reading her thoughts.

"I think I preferred it when it was not," she replied.

"You may think differently in time, and time is something you have plenty of. Make your choice when you are ready." He lowered his voice as they approached the middle of the camp, where a small gathering had risen early to prepare for the coming hunt. "And as Khelt said, keep it to yourself."

"I will."

"Good. Vaya is gathering her hunters to track the herd again. I am sure they would appreciate your help."

Caspian left her among the others, retreating further up the outcrop to see to his own business. Netya wondered what exactly the intriguing male busied himself with all day. Though he was clearly as strong and capable as any man, he did not seem to hold rank as a hunter. She suspected he had the wits of a seer, but they were all women, and Caspian's intelligence seemed more practical than the mysterious spiritual understandings of Adel's caste.

One of the hunters took notice of her, pausing as he walked by, and asked a question in his own language. Netya gave him an uncertain smile and said the word she thought meant "help". The hunter looked her up and down, and she repeated the word again. He nodded, hefting a stack of freshly cut wooden javelins off his shoulder and handing three of them to her.

"Help," he said, and pointed in the direction of another man who was whittling down more of the throwing spears to sharp points.

Netya was thankful for the work. It made her forget her worries as she sunk once again into the satisfying buzz of pack life. She had as long as she needed to make her decision. Who knew, perhaps one day it would not be as permanent as Khelt thought. For now she was excited to be assisting in the preparations for the hunt.

Distantly, it occurred to her that this would never have been the work of a woman back among her own people.

* * *

Brae was a fool. She had known the others would listen to her, hadn't she? And the sleepless nights Vaya had spent stalking the new herd, shepherding it back into their territory, orchestrating kill after kill, they meant nothing in the eyes of a
seer
, did they? Curse the spirits and their ways.

Even the tickle of apprehension Vaya felt at such blasphemous thoughts was not enough to still her temper. She had earned more than this. If she had been born a man the others would not have been so quick to heed Brae's vision, she considered bitterly. How many times did she have to prove herself? Even her last victory, when she had finally squashed Tal's arrogant attitude for good, had been soured by the arrival of the girl from the Sun People. Why was a woman who existed to be the alpha's plaything more interesting than a hunter who brought such glory to her pack?

Vaya glowered as she tested one of the freshly fire-hardened javelins, hefting it in her hand. She was not fond of these weapons either, but she understood that they could sometimes secure a kill where claws and fangs would fail. She would dirty her hunt with the weapons of the Sun People if it meant a greater chance at victory.

"What good will this one do? It is less straight than the last," she said, driving the javelin into the ground and snapping it in half. The whittler glared at her, but she held his gaze, daring him to disagree.

The burn in her muscles from the sudden exertion felt good. She yanked the broken javelin out of the dirt and tossed both parts into the fire, reaching for the next one.

Preparations that would normally have stirred excitement in Vaya only frustrated her further that morning. She had been woken early by the others, and every little mishap vexed her twice as much as usual. Someone had left one of the carrying poles in the mud down by the river. Several of the javelins had not been cleaned. The runners out watching the herd were late. And now — now the concubine girl was bumbling about among her hunters, barely even able to carry the stack of javelins she held.

"What is she doing?" Vaya growled.

"I think she wants to help," Tal said from beside her. "It looks like Caspian sent her down. You want to argue with him about it?"

"We don't have time for that girl to be getting in our way."

"Not if Brae's right, no," Tal mused, and Vaya shot him a warning look, cuffing her former superior across the back of the head. She heard the others chuckling. They thought it was funny.

"She isn't, and the sooner we get out there to prove it the sooner we can be back. Then we can plan a proper hunt, and you'll watch your tongue if you want to be included in it." Vaya turned to the others. "That goes for all of you! From now on my hunts only take the best. Wolves I can rely on. My eyes will be on those of you who don't carry your weight today."

That silenced most of them, but the amused mutterings that lingered on in the background did nothing to improve Vaya's temper. She went back to checking over the supplies, trying to focus on something practical. While the bulk of the pack hunted as wolves, they still required a handful of bearers to carry the tools they needed. Poles for carrying fresh kill, weapons for when fangs would not suffice, knives and packs in case they brought down a beast that required butchering in the field, and sometimes extra food and water if the hunt was expected to last for many days.

She began organising the supplies into bundles for each of her bearers. They would go to the stronger, stockier men, those who lacked the speed of her wolf runners but made up for it in endurance. Those lightest on their feet would play the role of scouts and chasers, seeking out their prey and shepherding it in for them, but rarely committing to the kill themselves. It was the high hunters, those like Vaya herself, who matched strength, speed, stamina, and cunning, who held the honour of claiming kills.

All three roles were equally important in the hunt, but there was only one that claimed the greatest prize at the end of it. When Vaya was younger than most she had been a fast chaser, and for several years she had stood by enviously as the high hunters made their kills, sharing in their glory with the other men while she and the rest of the apprentices watched from the sidelines. Running was what she had been good at, but she wanted more. She ran every day until her wolf was ready to collapse from exhaustion, pushing herself beyond what was required of a chaser. Day by day she forced her body to grow strong, until she began to realise that her strength had surpassed that of any other female her age, matching even that of some males.

After a hunt failed, the chasers were expected to return to the hunt leader while a new plan was devised, either to try again or to cut their losses and return home empty handed. One day, though, Vaya had ignored the call to come back. They had been hunting horses. Fast and dangerous beasts. They were always a risky hunt, and this particular drove had outpaced the pack easily as soon as they caught wind of the wolves stalking them, streaming down the valley past Vaya and her fellow chasers. It was then that she had seen her opportunity. The valley hemmed the drove in on both sides, leaving them only two ways to run, one of which was blocked off by the other hunters.

Taking her chance, she had darted directly into the flank of the group of animals, pouncing on the nearest one and forcing it to the ground in a tangle of kicking legs. It was a move that could very easily have left her trampled, but she had judged her target carefully. The colt she brought down was far enough ahead of the back stragglers that they had time to see what was happening, their stampede faltering and becoming confused as they seemed to face predators on both sides.

The minute of hesitation left several of the animals lagging behind their main group, giving Vaya time to get out of the way before they barrelled on past her, but not before the rest of the hunters caught up. They had brought down several of the horses that day, and a failed hunt was transformed into a great victory within the blink of an eye. That night she sat with the high hunters around their fire as they camped out in the wilderness, sharing in their meal and their tales of victory. That night she was no longer an apprentice, no longer a female, only a victorious hunter. One of the men. Her place had never before felt so right in the world.

"You should give her some guidance," Tal said, distracting Vaya from her work as he gestured at Netya. "She will break those javelins if she is not careful."

The concubine girl was trying her best to follow the lead of the others, lining up the javelins point-down in the ground to await her inspection. Except the stupid girl was doing it with the ones that were still freshly whittled, their tips not yet hardened to sharp points in the fire.

"You!" Vaya exclaimed, rising to her feet suddenly as she snatched the javelin Netya had been about to stab into the ground out of her hands. "These aren't ready! You will break the tips before they even have a chance to pierce an animal's hide." She glared at the girl, shoving the point of the javelin under her nose.

Netya only stared back like a startled hare frozen in panic. Vaya growled under her breath, cursing the stupid female's lack of understanding.

"If you break any of these," she continued, tapping the point of the javelin irritably, "then I will break something of yours as well." She threw the unfinished javelin back into the pile, turning back to her own work and realising that she had completely lost track of which bundles she had set aside for which bearer.

She almost lashed out at Tal when he tapped her on the shoulder again, flashing the male a look that dared him to waste any more of her time. Tal only gestured in Netya's direction, and Vaya watched incredulously as the girl picked up yet another unfinished javelin and shoved it into the dirt alongside the others.

The sheer insolence was enough to make her boiling anger spill over. The stupid girl was defying her and threatening to sabotage her hunt in the process.

She did not even pause to take the javelin from her this time. In an instant Vaya was on her feet, heels thudding into the dirt as she crossed the distance between them, spinning Netya around by the shoulder and drawing back her hand to strike the girl across the face with the back of her knuckles, putting as much force into the blow as she could muster.

A vicious sense of satisfaction filled Vaya as she felt the girl's nose crack beneath her fist, blood streaming down her pretty face as she fell to the ground with a cry of agony. She wanted to hit her again, but she allowed the red haze of anger to simmer, releasing it in a long breath as she gazed down at Netya with a look of contempt. Perhaps that would knock some sense into her. A well-earned punishment. She had given the alpha's plaything no more than she was due.

The assembled hunters grew quiet. Only Fern reacted to what had happened, hurrying to Netya's side and crouching down to try and pry the wide-eyed girl's hands away from her bloodied face.

"Leave her," Vaya said. "I want her to know I make no idle threats."

"You are a fool, Vaya!" Fern exclaimed, glaring up at her. "She knows as little of our tongue as you do of hers! Did you think to make her understand what she did wrong before hitting her?!"

Vaya curled her lip. "Enough from you, Fern. She should not be trying to help us if she understands so little. Let her learn her lesson, and be thankful it was not worse."

Fern rose to her feet, and the indignation in her eyes rekindled the warrior's fire in Vaya's chest. She would be all too glad to assert her authority again.

"She is not like us," Fern said. "The Sun People do not heal their wounds in a day."