The Alpha's Concubine (Historical Shifter Romance) (68 page)

She was grateful for the strength of her powerful canine legs, speeding her across the flat plain in a fraction of the time it would have taken her to cross the distance otherwise. The flock of birds took to the air in squawking droves all around her, scattering to the skies. They, at least, would be safe from the hunt for another day.

It was just as Netya had feared. The Sun People bellowed threats and warnings to the white hunters in their own tongue, but the wolves around them only growled back in anger. None of them spoke the same language.

Startled by the noisy flurry of birds, one of the Sun People swung around in her direction, pointing the tip of his strung dart at her and yelling for her to stop. She saw the fear in his eyes, the way the sharpened point of his weapon trembled. She forced the reasonable part of her mind back to the forefront. Her wolf receded, leaving her standing on two legs again with her palms outstretched, stumbling forward a few paces as she reeled from the suddenness of the shift. She was still unused to it.

"Hold your weapons, please!" She called out in the language of the Sun People, then looked to the white hunters and addressed them in their own tongue. "Stay your hunt, brothers and sisters! No blood has to be spilled needlessly!"

An uneasy pause followed, both groups equally confused by the appearance of the girl who seemed able to converse in two languages. One of the white hunters relinquished the shape of his wolf, throwing back a mane of long brown hair as he stepped toward her, keeping one anxious eye on the Sun People at all times.

"You know their tongue?" he barked.

"I do. Let me pass words between you rather than speaking with your teeth and claws."

"She is a beast like them!" one of the Sun People called out. "Do not trust what she says."

"If I am one of them then we outnumber you!" Netya snapped back impatiently, trying not to trip over her tongue as she swapped between one language and the other. "Would you rather listen to me, or fight?"

"What are you saying to them?" the white hunter growled. He seemed to be the leader of his pack, but he did not strike Netya as their alpha. Perhaps a high hunter. She hoped her intuition proved correct. A senior male would not be easily swayed by the words of a young girl, but he would be more inclined to listen than an alpha.

One of the other white hunters, a female with braids of animal teeth in her hair, relinquished her animal shape as well and clutched her leader's shoulder, eyes narrowed at Netya. "It is no wonder she wants to protect them," she said under her breath. "She is a sun wolf. I can smell it on her. She was not born of our kind."

Netya's heart beat faster, her pulse pounding in her ears as the eyes of the two hunting parties settled upon her. None of them trusted her. She had dashed into this brimming conflict on the impulses of her wolf without stopping to think of what might happen.

"I do not mean to deceive you," she said, trying to keep her voice steady. "I will do only as I said. There is no need for anyone to die here."

"Kill her," the female hissed to the hunt leader. "She is one of them, stealing from our land like the rest."

"She wears the garb of a seer," the leader murmured back. "What ill omens will it bring to spill her blood upon our hunting grounds?"

The female stepped back sullenly, baring her teeth in a snarl. Netya took the opportunity to address the Sun People again, motioning for the one with his weapon trained on her to lower the strung dart.

"My kin say you are trespassing upon their hunting grounds. This is their territory."

"We know not where these beasts mark their borders," one of the less agitated men replied in a steady tone. "How are we to know which land is theirs?"

Netya turned back to the leader of the hunters. "They say they did not know this territory was yours."

"Then they are ignorant as well as reckless." The male ground his teeth, shooting a dangerous glance in the direction of the Sun People. "Their kind have stolen from our land before. They have killed our brethren. They do not deserve our mercy."

Netya felt her panic rising, but a glimmer of understanding held it in check. Much of her apprenticeship as a seer had focused around cultivating the wisdom necessary to understand other people. To understand when the words they spoke differed from what they held in their hearts. If the leader of the hunters truly believed what he was saying, he would not be hesitating to exchange words with her. She sensed the apprehension in him. It was buried beneath a warrior's courage, but he feared for the lives of his companions.

"Perhaps they do not," she soothed him. "Your woman has the right of it. I was born of the Sun People myself, and I understand how they fear our kind. It was only by the mercy of a wise alpha that I was able to see with my own eyes the honour and bravery of the Moon People."

The leader hesitated, his lips moving silently as he considered the situation. Netya hoped her subtle temptation would work. It was difficult for most males of their kind to relinquish the glory of combat, but this one seemed a little older and wiser than most. She waited on his answer with bated breath. At long last, his chin dipped in a tiny nod.

Before he could speak, the Sun People raised their voices in alarm once more. The flutter of wings beat the air behind them. Netya snapped her head around to see Fern hurrying toward her in the shape of her wolf, the recently-settled flock of birds scattering once again before her.

This time there was no opportunity for words to still the weapons of the Sun People. So preoccupied had she been with soothing the hunt leader, Netya had neglected to assure the other group of her good intentions.

"More of them are coming," she heard one of the Sun People call to another amidst the clamour of raised voices. Did they assume she had been stalling them? Playing a cunning trick to buy time before tightening the noose? She would never know. They loosed a volley of darts into the small band of growling wolves, bringing two of them to the ground with yips of pain as the others charged forward.

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Claudia King is a writer based in the United Kingdom, she studied Creative Arts at university and continues to maintain a passionate interest in storytelling across many forms of media. She owns a banana plant.

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