The Alpha's Concubine (Historical Shifter Romance) (38 page)

Netya did not need to be told twice that she could never speak of what she had witnessed to anyone. It bore a weight far greater than simple trust. Even voicing such things aloud gave her the sense that dark spirits were lingering nearby. When people murmured of witches and black magic, it was to these things that they referred. Netya hoped that she would never find herself in Adel's position, where she would be forced to practice such arts herself.

She began to realise, as she left the cave that morning, that the skills of a seer reached far further than knowledge of plants and visions. What she had just witnessed unsettled her deeply, and she could not imagine how the others coped with carrying such burdens of responsibility. The women who became seers required a strength of spirit equally as strong as the bravery of the hunters. It was a strength she would have to cultivate within herself as well, if she was to join their order.

Netya spent the morning in quiet reflection, letting the wind whip through her hair and rattle the beads of her talisman as she sat on the rocks gazing out across the plains. Perhaps it was through doing such things that Adel had earned the respect of the other seers. How many burdens had the den mother taken on her own soul to ease the suffering of others? Was that why she sometimes seemed so cold and heartless? Netya tried to imagine such a life, wondering whether it was a path she too would have to take one day if she hoped to achieve the wisdom of her mentor.

She was chilly and numb by the time she noticed Caspian sitting down next to her. He did not speak, but merely joined her in her silent vigil as the pair of them sought out the solitude of their own thoughts.

"I wonder," she said at last, "whether there will be any room left in my life for pleasure, if I am to become a seer."

"There is a reason few women are suited to that calling," Caspian replied. "Is it troubling you?"

"I do not know. I imagined seeking out visions, learning how to speak with the spirits, but now I think Adel has shown me the truth of it." She sighed. "This is the first time in days I have been free to enjoy myself, and now I can do nothing but sit here. I miss the simpler things. I did not have so many thoughts to fill my head before I became an apprentice."

"Would you give up the things you have learned to go back to that time?"

"I suppose not. I would only become restless again. I just wish there was something to lighten the burden."

"You will find your own way," Caspian said. "Take it as a compliment that Adel is pushing you so hard. It only means she had faith that you will succeed."

"Or that she is waiting to see whether I break or not." Netya looked over at him, then leaned to the side and rested her cheek against his shoulder, allowing herself a brief moment of contentment. How much she missed something so simple as warmth and closeness to another person. Another man.

Caspian allowed her to rest there, putting an arm around her waist. Even though he was not a seer, she felt that he understood somehow. He was the kind of man who would.

"Would you kiss me?" she asked quietly.

Caspian shifted position to look at her. "Only a kiss?"

She nodded. "Only a kiss. I need something to warm my day."

There was no further lecture about the perils that lay in matters the heart. Caspian seemed to know that it was not love, but intimacy she needed at that moment. Still, as his lips touched hers and warmth rushed through Netya's body, she knew that the kiss would have meant far less coming from anyone else.

She closed her eyes and sank into him, letting her exhaustion of mind and spirit slip away as she shared her burdens with the man who held her. What blissful pleasure there was to be found in such a simple act. More than ever, Netya longed for a mate to share these moments with her. She could have spent all day working tirelessly under Adel's guidance, if only she knew there was a loving partner waiting to welcome her into his furs at the end of it all.

The kiss was a long one, but still not long enough for Netya. She rested her head back on Caspian's shoulder and sat there with him for a while, enjoying his closeness as he enjoyed hers.

"It is wrong for me to feel so burdened, when others have suffered far greater troubles," she said, thinking of poor Essie back in the seers' cave.

"We all have our own troubles," Caspian replied. "There is no shame in wanting to make them better. It still surprises me that you had the strength to make a place for yourself here, so far from your own people."

"But I will see my family again one day," Netya said, putting a hand on his chest. "You will not see yours."

Caspian smiled, the corners of his eyes creasing with melancholy. "Khelt is my brother now. The rest of the pack is my family."

"You never mentioned your mother when you told me Khelt and Adel's tale. You must have been there when it happened."

"I was spared seeing it with my own eyes. I only heard after, when I realised she was not with the rest of the group."

"And still you do not blame my people for it?" Netya said.

"Perhaps I did, for a time. I blamed Khelt too, and Adel, and many others, until I realised I was only hurting myself in doing so. Had I tried for revenge, I might have left someone else without a mother or father. I never wanted that."

"I wish you had told me."

Caspian shook his head. "Some things are difficult to share, even if we want another person to know them somehow." He rubbed his hand up and down her side for a moment, warding off the chill of the wind. "Did you learn who else was lost that night along with my mother?"

"No, Fern only told me of her when I asked about you."

"Ah, of course." He drew in a long breath. "Eloway and Sirocco were the other two. They loved each other so fiercely, there was nothing any of us could do to keep them apart. Eloway ran back to protect her mate when he was caught in one of the Sun People's nets, even though she must have known there was no chance of saving him. They died together, but they left their daughter Fern behind."

A painful weight settled in Netya's chest. She had expected to hear something like this one day, but it had been a vague concern. She understood now the sombre flashes she sometimes glimpsed in her friend. Poor Fern, always so cheerful and kind to others, so much so that it sometimes felt like a mask. How old must she have been when it happened? Close to the changes that would have taken her from being a girl to a woman. A time when the guidance and support of parents was needed more than ever.

Netya sniffed back her sadness. "I have no right to feel burdened by anything, do I?"

"That was not what I meant to say," Caspian replied. "But, when your spirit is troubled, sometimes it can do us good to be reminded of worse, and better, times."

They sat for a while longer. Netya would gladly have shivered in the wind next to Caspian all day, but when he noticed how cold she was becoming he insisted she go back inside to warm up.

She wondered how to let Fern know that she knew about her parents, but any attempt to broach the topic seemed like it would only lead to her friend shrugging it off, insisting it was not worth talking about, as she often did.

Caspian's words followed Netya around all afternoon.

Some things are difficult to share, even if we want another person to know them somehow.

That evening, when she returned to find Fern curled up in the furs, she slipped in beside her friend and put her arms around her. Without saying a word, she rested her forehead on the other girl's shoulder, and held her. The stiffness in Fern's muscles softened after a time, and she gave in to the embrace. Netya cradled her there until they both fell asleep. Whether or not Fern realised what had spurred the show of affection, Netya felt that a part of her friend understood.

Perhaps it was a simple gift, or a token of encouragement, or maybe something even more intimate. Whatever it was, Netya awoke to find a talisman hanging outside the tent, and the discovery warmed her heart.

On a leather cord looped around the end of one of their cooking sticks, a small, six-sided piece of wood waited for her. Just like Caspian's carved buckle, it had been worked and polished with great care. The design etched into the front had been carved out first, before being darkened with fire, making it seem even more precise and striking than the first time Netya had seen it. The wooden pendant bore the sun and moon mark that meant her name.

She unlooped the leather and ran her fingers over the design, smiling as she looked around for the person she knew had left it for her. It was not another kiss, or a mate waiting for her at the end of the day, but it was a symbol of who she was, and a reminder that there were those who cared for her. She put the cord around her neck and made sure the design faced outwards, running her fingers over the shallow carving until they became familiar with it. Despite her weariness of body and spirit the previous day, she returned to the seers' cave determined that, no matter what her apprenticeship demanded of her in the months to come, she would try her very best to rise to it.

She found Essie dozing in the central chamber, being tended by one of the elder seers. The woman's skin was pale, her features drawn, but she was breathing steadily. The elder glanced up as Netya approached and gave her a look of concern, but neither of them spoke of what had happened. Some things were best left forgotten.

Adel's chamber was still dark that morning, the roof coverings not having been opened. Only a single lamp and the embers of the fire provided any illumination.

Netya crept in quietly, eyes darting around to try and find her mentor in the gloom. Adel was sat against the wall, a piece of absorbent animal hide curled between her fingers, stained with what looked like blood. She was staring into a bowl in front of her, but its contents were hidden by the shadows.

"Den Mother?" Netya said. The back of her neck prickled when the other woman did not respond. She was used to receiving prompt instructions the second she set foot in her mentor's den. "Shall I open the covers? It is already morning."

Adel inclined her head slightly. It was not much of a response, but Netya was too uncomfortable to stand there doing nothing. She climbed up to the roof and heaved the moveable section of it aside, flooding the chamber below with daylight. Adel squinted and shielded her eyes with a hand, seeming almost to shrink further into the wall. She had not painted her eyes with their customary markings recently, but they had darkened nonetheless. It seemed she had been awake all night.

The den mother finally took notice of her apprentice once Netya climbed down, quickly taking the piece of hide she had been clutching and draping it over the top of the wooden bowl, obscuring its contents from view.

"Did everything go as intended?" Netya asked as she edged closer.

"Yes," Adel said, her voice dry and husky. She sounded as though she had forgone food and water as well as sleep. "I followed the seer's path to help give life, not take it away."

"I could have stayed to help you."

The den mother closed her eyes and shook her head. She could not have been more than ten years Netya's senior, but in that moment she seemed terribly old. "I will never teach you of what I did. It is more than enough for one person to bear." She picked up the bowl and held it out to Netya, eyes averted from the bloody rag draped over the top. "Take this far down the river and empty it for me. Do not look under the covering."

Netya nodded, clutching the edges of the bowl tightly. All she could feel was a small amount of water moving around inside, but her stomach turned at the thought of what else there might be. "Will Essie be okay?" she said.

"If she does not fall pregnant again, yes."

"You could give her the burnt leaf herbs, like you did for me."

"I have persuaded her to start taking them, but they are never a guarantee." Adel rubbed her eyes and gestured for her apprentice to go, struggling to get to her feet. "We will continue your studies when you return."

Netya hurried as fast as she could without threatening to spill the bowl's contents. She kept her eyes fixed on the ground in front of her, ignoring the other seers as she exited the cave. When she passed by Essie's spot, she made sure to tilt her body away, hiding what she was carrying from view.

The camp was as silent as usual in the mornings, and Netya was thankful she could avoid the few early risers clustered around the main fire as she made her way down to the river. Once she was beyond the outcrop, she bent down and peeled back the edge of the bloodied piece of hide. As hard as she tried not to look, she couldn't help but glimpse the contents of the bowl as she emptied it into the river. All she saw was watery, clotted blood.

Once the bowl was rinsed she left it on the rocks to dry, but the stained rag she allowed to drift away down the river, along with the sickly mixture that had resulted from Adel's grim task. It was difficult to swallow her nausea, but she cleaned her hands and filled her lungs with fresh air, trying not to let her mind wonder at what had happened in the den mother's chamber the previous day.

By the time she returned, Adel had washed and painted her eyes afresh, and there was no hint in her appearance of the disturbed woman Netya had walked in on earlier. No further words were spoken about what had happened, and they returned to their studies of plants as if it were any other day.