“I am so proud of you, my daughter.”
“Why?” Adel forced out, struggling against the moisture that threatened to well up in her own eyes. “I have no choice.”
“But you do! That you think otherwise only proves how kind your soul is.” Freia pulled back, cupping her daughter's cheek with the palm of her hand. “You turned your back on this clan once, and I did not blame you. Part of me hoped you would never return. I know living under your father brought you nothing but misery. If any pack deserves your loyalty, it is not this one, and yet you sacrifice your happiness for us anyway.”
Adel gave the faintest shake of her head. “I am only trying to do as Uriel would. I am sorry I could never live up to her memory.”
“No, you are every bit the woman your sister was and more. I always saw the noble spirit beneath your anger.”
“I am not noble, I am a fool. I should never have come back here.”
“Perhaps sometimes those two are the same thing. Bravery so often seems foolish to those who know nothing of being selfless.”
“How will I live under another alpha?!” Adel said, her voice straining with emotion now. She wanted to be angry at everything, fight it all away as if it were a nightmare, and every time she realised the futility of it she felt her soul being crushed a little more. “He will be just like Father!”
“I do not think so.” Freia tried to soothe her daughter. “They say Alpha Kotal was an honourable man. Perhaps his son is too. He wants peace, after all.”
Adel said nothing. Somehow, she wanted Khelt to be like her father. She wanted to hate him. It would be easier to hate someone than to feel like she was betraying Jarek. Was he still waiting for her at the pool? How many days would go by before he realised she was not coming back?
She would return. She swore to herself that she would. Even if she was forced to live out the rest of her days as Khelt's mate, she would find her love again and say goodbye. Jarek deserved so much more, but that was all she could give him. Perhaps it might be better for him to think she had abandoned him, so that he could forget her and move on.
Adel curled her fingernails into her palms, unable to bear the idea of him being with anyone else. And yet, she could not remain angry, for was she not about to make him feel exactly the same way?
“I do not know how I can do this,” she said, swallowing down the needles that pressed into her throat.
“You will find your way. You are every bit as strong as your father.” Freia glanced behind her, where a procession of men and women were beginning to file past the hut. “I think it is time for us to go.”
“Wait.” Adel caught her mother's hand as she began to pull away. “Sit with me a little longer.”
With a pained smile, Freia nodded and sat back down. “As long as I can.”
The pack made their way north across the plains with Ulric and his daughter at the centre of the group. It was supposed to be a ceremonial procession, but to Adel it looked more like a line of warriors arrayed for battle. The hunters fanned out in two broad flanks on either side of them, the largest and strongest at the front, while the rest of the clan gathered behind them in a cluster of furred bodies. It had the desired effect of making the pack appear stronger than it was, but Adel saw through the illusion. Perhaps illusions were all her weak pack could rely on now. Trickery was better than bloodshed, she had to admit, though any respect the realisation might have garnered for her father was too little and too late.
She could not stand to look at him as he walked by her side, both of them standing upright on two legs. Karel and Freia were with them too, along with a few of the seers and the two burly warriors who had kept watch over her in the hut. Few words passed between them. The heavy, damp mist blanketing the plains felt like it was seeping into Adel's skin, weighing her down until every step forward ached more than the last. The scouts had spotted Alpha Khelt and his entourage to the north, but with the land wreathed in fog it was impossible to tell how close they might be.
Finally, as the dew from the thickening grass began to soak the base of Adel's gown, a low howl sounded up ahead. Ulric motioned to one of his warriors, and the wolf returned the call. Adel's breath quickened. Her time was almost up. A dozen desperate possibilities raced through her mind, but each one had already been considered and dismissed more times than she could count.
This was no tale of glory where the heroine rose victorious at the last moment. Her tale was over, and it ended in tragedy. The dream she had once shared with Uriel hung on only by a thread.
She stopped suddenly, turning to grab her brother by the wrist.
“Karel, you must do something for me,” she said under her breath, though the pack was so quiet she was sure most of them must have overheard. “There is someone I need you to find. A man from Neman's pack.”
Karel looked away from her, his face flushed. He had not met her eyes once since they set out, nor had he spoken a word. A faint bruise lingered on his jaw, and his lip seemed slightly swollen.
“Adel,” her father growled, gripping her by the shoulder.
“Look at me!” she said, ignoring Ulric. “Please, Brother, this one thing!”
“You need not worry about that boy of yours any more,” her father said. “You will not see him again.”
Adel glanced between the two of them, icy fear tightening around her heart. Her fingers dug into Karel's arm. “Brother?!”
He finally turned to face her, but his dour eyes flicked across hers for only a moment, full of shame and sorrow. He shook his head. “I am sorry, Sister.”
“What did you do? What did you do?!” she all but screamed, then Ulric's grip tightened around her shoulder and tugged her forward, pushing her back to the front of the procession. Her panic building, she fought against him, struggling in his grip until he pulled both of her arms tight around her middle and yanked her back up against him. Chin on her shoulder, his next words grated in her ear as he forced her to look ahead.
“Will I still have a willing mate for Alpha Khelt when he arrives? Or will I have to fight him?”
Adel felt tears threatening to pierce the corners of her eyes. She strained to breathe, crossed arms pressing against her ribs as her father held her by the wrists. Perhaps a hundred paces in front of them, a line of wolves not dissimilar to their own appeared out of the fog. At the centre walked two men.
“What did you do to him?” she whispered through clenched teeth, fearing that if she opened her jaw she would be unable to hold herself back from sprouting fangs and tearing out her father's throat.
“It isn't your place to ask questions of me any more, Daughter. It never was. One day you will understand everything I have done, and you will thank me for it. Hate me in the meantime if you must. Now will you walk with me to meet your new mate, or will you carry on fighting?”
Adel's vision blurred. Her fingers, stiff as claws, clenched and unclenched at her sides. She knew why warriors killed now. She understood the fury, the pain, the need for vengeance that consumed a person's wisdom until all that remained was the urge to rend and tear. It was about to wash over her completely, blocking out her thoughts as her wolf rose beneath the surface.
If not for her anger, her heart would break. She would crumple at her father's feet, will broken, a slave to her own despair, a shadow of the woman she had once been. It was unbearable. The last thread of hope she had clung on to, the last longing to return to those happy days with Jarek, and the last tender memories of her sister, all fell into the raw chasm opening up within her chest, and in the darkness, they disappeared. All that remained was her anger, and it enveloped her like armour. Only one thought remained to hold her back from sinking her teeth into her father's throat:
I am better than you.
It was the hardest thing she had ever done, but she held her body still, ceasing her struggles. Then, one step at a time, she forced her legs to move forward. The world seemed dull and red around her, muffled by the endless rage that was now the only
thing still keeping her upright.
The two men stepped out of the mist ahead of them. Both were young, still barely of age. Vaguely, she recognised them as Khelt and the brown-haired boy who had been with him at the gathering. The young alpha wore a smile, but his flitting eyes betrayed his apprehension. Adel glowered at him as they drew close, lip curling in a sneer.
Words passed between the two alphas, but she did not care to listen. Platitudes of friendship that neither man believed. Threats and warnings. Assertions of honour. She found herself looking at Khelt's companion while the alphas talked, and he matched her vicious stare with a gaze of curious compassion. For a moment the softness in his eyes reminded her of Jarek, and her legs began to tremble. She felt the weakness begin to grip her, and summoned her anger back up to overwhelm it, whipping her rage into an even greater frenzy than before.
“Stop wasting words,” she hissed, taking a step forward that drove her heel deep into the soft earth. “Take me with you and leave,” she said to Khelt. “Never spill a drop of each other's blood again.”
“I warn you, boy,” Ulric growled behind her. “If you mistreat my daughter, if you fail to honour your promise and take her as your mate, I will not rest until you and your pack lie dead.”
“I am a man of my word,” Khelt replied. “Our pack has been without a den mother for some time. No woman of my clan will hold status higher than hers.”
Ulric offered a stiff nod. “Then take her. Friend.”
The two alphas stepped forward, gripping one another by the forearm in a rough shake of respect, though the gesture seemed more a wrestle for dominance than an embrace of companionship.
Coward, Adel thought. Afraid to lose face. Afraid to show the barest hint of humility. It took no strength to succumb to anger, she knew that now. But anger did make a person strong. She smouldered with it, letting it consumer her, fuelling a sense of pride very different from that of her father. She was better than him, stronger than the weakness and fear he had sought to beat into her. She would never crumble, she would never cry, and she would use every dark magic she had learned to become a den mother greater than any the Moon People had ever known. She swore it.
It was all she had.
When the two packs parted ways, she said nothing until her old clan was far behind her.
“If you think I will ever be your mate, you are an even greater fool than he is,” she whispered to Alpha Khelt, keeping her eyes fixed on the mist ahead of them as they walked side by side.
The young man frowned at her, an uncertain smile still on his lips. “Shall I pretend not to have heard that, Seer Adel?”
“I do not care. If you want peace with my father, you will take me with you, but I will never be your mate.”
“Watch your tongue, woman. I am your alpha now.”
Adel snorted and shook her head, pulling away from him to walk by herself. “I have stood up to alphas far greater than you, boy.”
* * * * *
It was easy to remain hidden in the mist, and Jarek's need to witness the meeting with his own eyes outstripped any fear he had of Ulric's scouts picking up his scent. He wanted to believe it was not true, but he also knew Adel. She was no woman ruled by the whims and wiles of others. Her spirit answered to a higher calling, a selflessness that would submit to the greater good even if it meant her own ruin. All the times they had spoken in the past, so many of their conversations had been about hopes and ideas, dreams of how things should be, questions that only a sharp mind would consider. He had liked to tease her about them, grounding her lofty ideas with his simple charm, but part of him had always known that one day a question might be asked of his love that would force her to abandon him.
That was why he had wanted to take her away to wander distant lands, so that she might forget all of her ambitions and be happy for once. Had it been selfish of him? Perhaps. But he wanted her to be happy, for he doubted she had it in herself to find happiness on her own.
He watched from afar as a figure in a gown stepped forward to meet with Alpha Khelt. He had wanted to believe Karel was lying, but there was no denying it now. They stood, they talked, and then they parted ways.
Hunched beneath a cover of dripping leaves, the damp seeping through his wolf's sandy fur coat, he sat staring into the mist until the figures from both clans had been swallowed up by the fog. A patter of light drizzle stirred the silence, but still he did not move. He could not bear to go back. His tent atop the hill would be empty without her. The racks she had made for herbs. The soft furrow of her bedroll next to his.
In agony, he waited, hoping against hope that Adel would slip away somehow, that she would come back to him.
Days came and passed as he tracked Khelt's clan north, then circled back to the pool, flipping stones into the water until the sight of them splashing into the depths made his head ache. He waited, but she never came. Slowly, just as the last of her lingering scent faded from their hidden grove, he began to realise that she never would. He would grow old skimming his stones while he waited.
Perhaps one day he would find her again, but he knew what Adel would say. She would tell him to stop being foolish. To stop wasting his time. He smiled bitterly as he gazed into the rippling water, fighting the urge to weep that had come and gone many times since she left. He preferred not to think about where she was now, what she might be doing. Such thoughts would drive a man to madness. He had always been a dreamer, a wanderer. Perhaps now was his time to wander.
Standing up, he dusted his hands off and left the grove behind him, walking north until he crested a small rise. His people were back in the south. He could not bear to return to them, nor risk the danger of Ulric discovering that he still lived. Adel was to the north, and so he could not go that way either. If he kept going west, the mountains would eventually block his path. But to the east...
He shielded his eyes from the sun, gazing across the plains. In the distance he saw the dark blotches of trees. The beginnings of a great forest.
He sat there on the rise until the sun went down, eyes turned north in one last hope of seeing a lone figure approaching from the distance. He remembered the excitement he had felt so many times in the past, the way he had sat up sometimes, scanning the horizon just as he did now, and the surge of joy he had felt when he saw Adel's dark-furred wolf bounding eagerly toward him. He closed his eyes, imagining he could see her again now. Free from her pack. Free to talk and laugh and skim stones with her friend.
Tears finally glimmered in the last of the evening sun as they rolled down Jarek's cheeks. He wished more than anything that he could go back to live those days all over again. The time even before they had been lovers, when they were nothing more than a boy and a girl, sharing a time and place away from the rest of the world as they played together in their secret grove, where nothing else could ever touch them.
—Epilogue—
The first light of the morning sun silhouetted the outcrop against the horizon, stone and earth rising in a great natural monument that marked the home of Khelt's clan. Far more impressive a den than her father's collection of huts, Adel reflected. Soon she would have the solitude she had become desperate for during the two days spent travelling. Khelt had promised her a private chamber within his seers' cave, somewhere she could seclude herself deep within the outcrop's stone and seal out the rest of the world. Once she was there she could mourn, weep, and give in to the dismal thoughts that flocked like ravens to her aching heart. Until then, however, she could indulge not a second of her sadness. Her anger kept her strong, made her determined, and gave the young den mother the fire she needed to survive.
Den mother. That was her title now. The equal of women like Freia and Leide. When the packs next gathered, she would stand alongside the most revered females among all the clans. Her stomach lurched at the thought, suddenly imagining coming face to face with her father again. Not just him, but Neman too. Jarek's brother. Karel. All the people who reminded her of...
No. Sh
e could not think of him. The gathering would have to take place without her. Better for her to forget. The memories would only keep her tethered to a past she needed to bury until it was gone forever.
Adel became aware of someone standing next to her as she gazed out over the northern plains, watching a small group of figures throwing javelins in the distance. For a moment she took them to be Sun People, before realising that there were wolves bounding back and forth to collect the throwing weapons for them.
“Do your people hunt this way too?” the man beside her asked.
She turned, seeing Khelt's handsome, brown-haired companion watching the same group with his arms folded.
“They did not, and they are no longer my people.”
The man nodded absently. “Khelt and I have seen the way the Sun People hunt. They are very clever. A group in the north have been teaching us their ways ever since Kotal made peace with them.”
Adel stared at him for a moment. “Do you know how the fighting between Kotal and Ulric began? It was an argument over hunting. My sister's mate challenged one of your warriors.”
The man smiled. “Well, your sister and her mate can live in peace now, thanks to you.”
Adel's eyes blistered icy cold, driving the smile from her companion's lips.
“I know this must not have been what you wanted,” he said, “but you did a noble thing in coming with us. Khelt is a good man. You may grow to like him in time.”
“I will not be his mate.”
Unlike most, the young man matched her piercing gaze without flinching. He was not afraid of her, and yet he did not seek to bring her to heel either.
“You really won't, will you?” he said with a sigh. “Khelt thinks you are just being stubborn. He enjoys girls who lead him on a chase.”
“I will be his den mother, but never his woman.”
“That, you may find difficult,” the man said, smiling again as he untied a pouch from the leather belt around his hips. He rattled the contents, tipping out a dozen chipped stones into his palm. “Would you like to play while we wait for the others?”
Daughter of the Night: A Book of The Moon People Page 20