by Claudia King
A resounding cheer went up from the group around her, and the hunters in the distance responded with howls of their own. Everyone was talking excitedly, and Netya could understand not a word of it. But even without language, the relief and elation of the pack was obvious. For the first time she found herself completely forgotten as the returning hunters stole away the attention of the Moon People.
Caspian shifted to brace her weight more securely against his hip, and she felt the firm motion of his muscles working beneath her fingers. A warm flush lit her body as she imagined how those muscles might feel without the barrier of clothing covering them. How Caspian's strong grip might feel when applied to other parts of her body. She took a deep breath and pried her thoughts away from such cravings, returning her attention to the procession of hunters as they made their way to the base of the outcrop and up the path.
Caspian let her down as the group broke apart and rushed to meet their returning brethren, and before she could even thank him he had disappeared again into the crowd. Amidst the clamour of raucous voices and cheers of victory she found her way back to Fern's side, and was finally able to get a good look at the hunters as the group parted to allow them through.
Even she was impressed by the spoils. The slain beasts the group had returned with were so large Netya was amazed that the thick wooden poles they were lashed to —and the men carrying them—did not buckle under their weight. She did not recognise the animals, but they reminded her a little of oversized goats, and each one alone would certainly provide enough meat to feed the entire pack.
She turned her attention to the hunter leading the procession, and was surprised to see that it was not a man as she had first assumed, but a woman. This was no mother or seer. The girl seemed tall and wiry enough to challenge any man's strength, and she wore a look of such satisfaction and confidence that Netya felt humbled just by being in her presence. In her ears she wore sharp spikes of bone, and she had cut her hair almost to the scalp on one side of her head while the other half remained long and braided. Netya felt fortunate that it was Fern she and Layon had run into two nights ago and not this woman.
The congratulations continued as the hunters passed through, but the group moved back and kept at a respectful distance as the spoils were borne to the central fire. It seemed that some tradition had to be observed before the hunters could rest and the meat be butchered.
"Vaya was not leading the hunt when they set out," Fern said to her. "She must have been the one to track down the animals and make the first kill."
"Vaya is the woman in front?" Netya replied.
Fern nodded. "Women rarely claim the hunter's prize, but this is not the first time Vaya has done it. Tal, the hunt leader, cannot be very happy. This should have been his glory."
Netya watched in fascination as the hunters stopped next to the fire and their escort of wolves moved back. The men set down two of the large animals on the ground, leaving only Vaya standing beside the bearers that carried the third. She raised her hands to the sky and barked something that drew more shouts of elation from the pack, before clapping a palm against the flank of the slain best. It had not been killed with spears or knives. Instead several claw marks lined its hide, and the killing wound in the back of its neck looked to have been inflicted by long fangs.
The wrinkled elder who had taken Fern and Netya's baskets stepped forward, examining the kill for a moment before giving a grunt of approval. She then bent and brought a flint knife to the beast's throat, slitting it wide open and allowing the blood to spill freely on to the ground. Before the animal had bled out completely she filled a bowl with its draining life essence and presented it to Vaya. The voices of the pack subsided as all eyes turned to the victorious young woman, who accepted the bowl with a slight bow, before bringing it to her lips and drinking until it was empty.
That seemed to signal an end to the formalities. A final cheer went up from the crowd before they all rushed forward to congratulate the hunters, several people moving to begin the work of skinning and butchering the animals immediately. Vaya, Netya noticed, was being presented with gifts from the other pack members. Handfuls of food, small trinkets, and articles of clothing, all of which she accepted with great satisfaction.
"They seem very thankful to her," Netya said.
"We have had no successful hunts for many weeks now. She succeeded where others have failed, and now the whole pack will eat well again."
"People do not usually give gifts to the hunters in my village."
"Ah," Fern said, "but your people do not value the hunt as we do. This night is Vaya's. That is the hunter's prize. Until the sun rises tomorrow, she will be treated with the honour of the alpha himself. Those who give gifts seek to earn her favour for hunts she leads in the future. They hope to also share in her next glory, or perhaps even claim it for themselves."
Once the gifts had stopped coming and only congratulations were left, Vaya's eyes began roaming the area, and several knowing chuckles sounded from those nearby. Even Fern seemed amused.
"And of course, there is one other prize she also has the right to claim."
Vaya's gaze finally settled on one of the hunters who had come in with her, and she smiled with almost predatory satisfaction.
"Of course it would be Tal," Fern said. "The other men will not soon forget him losing favour to a woman, especially not after this."
The hunt leader Tal kept a steady expression as Vaya approached him, but his discomfort was obvious. One of the other men gave him a teasing shove, laughing with the others at some joke that had been made, presumably at Tal's expense. This seemed to please Vaya even more. She put an arm around the hunt leader's waist and said something to him, then tugged him away to come sit with her by the fire.
Netya had a vague idea of what was happening, but she was still confused.
"That," Fern said, sharing in the men's mirth, "is one of the few times you will ever see a woman lay claim to a man."
"She will lie with him tonight?"
"Tal would lose face if he refused. He has already lost much by letting Vaya claim his prize, and she knows it. After tonight, I do not think he will be leading many more hunts in place of her."
"Can the hunters take anyone they desire after such a victory?"
"It would depend on the victory," Fern explained. "This one is particularly special. Of course, it would be improper to try and lay claim to the alpha or those of high status, but the other pack members are theirs to choose from." She smiled and led them back to their seats to finish the meal they'd abandoned. "You know, Vaya chose me the second time she claimed the hunter's prize."
"Over a man?"
Fern nodded. "She values power over pleasure, and we were both apprentice hunters of equal status at the time. She is among the high hunters now."
Netya's thoughts tingled with curiosity. "What was it like?"
"Most men are gentle sheep compared to Vaya." Fern rolled her eyes. "I was glad to indulge her, but she made her point. I was no rival to her status after that night."
"That seems a strange thing to do in the name of power," Netya said as she watched Vaya curiously.
"It has everything to do with power," Fern replied, "even between close friends or lovers. One must always give, and one must always take. Even if the dominant lover switches, there are always moments of powerlessness on one person's part. Surely you felt it with the alpha last night?"
Netya pondered the question before responding. "It seems more frightening when you describe it that way. I was completely in his power. I don't know if I could have resisted him even if I'd wanted. He seemed in control the whole time."
"Sometimes you will be with a man and find the opposite to be true," Fern said. "He will be unsure, or apprehensive, and you will find yourself guiding his pleasure rather than allowing him to slake it as you submit."
"I cannot imagine someone like the alpha ever being unsure."
Fern chuckled. "He would not be, no. Few men are
. That is why the others mock Tal. They know Vaya will not allow him to take her in the way he would want."
Netya thought about it a little more as she watched the pack heat flat cooking stones in the fire and butcher the fresh game. Before long the smell of sizzling meat was rich in the air, and she found herself growing hungry again despite having just eaten.
"I think I enjoyed the power the alpha had over me," she said at last. "It made him feel... I do not know, greater, somehow. And the pleasure he gave me was greater because of it. I would not have felt the same way with someone else."
"You will have to enjoy a great many more men before you make that decision," Fern said. "But yes, that is why the other women will envy you. Many of them desire to be taken by a man who embodies such power."
The tales of the hunt continued for a good hour as an impromptu banquet seemed to break out, the rationing of the food forgotten in light of the successful hunt. Fresh meat was cooked and shared freely, and before long the whole pack seemed to have gathered to eat and hear Vaya and her hunters recount their success. Netya understood only what Fern translated for her, but she enjoyed the jovial atmosphere and the warmth of the fire as night gradually fell upon the camp.
It took some time, but eventually she became aware of her name being mentioned once more. Once the buzz of the hunt had ebbed, the Moon People returned to discussing the second most interesting topic in their camp. The only one who seemed not to care was Vaya, who still wore the same prideful grin of victory she had sported since claiming her prize. Netya could hardly blame her. The night was hers, after all.
But Vaya's grin began to falter as the topic of conversation around her diverged time and again from the words Netya had come to associate with "hunt" and "hunter", to be replaced with increasingly frequent utterances of her own name and Khelt's. She began to grow uncomfortable, and when she next looked across the fire it was to see Vaya's unsmiling eyes staring back at her.
The huntress curled her lip, then rose to her feet and spat out a harsh-sounding comment. She turned her back on the fire and dragged Tal after her, disappearing into one of the tents.
It had been a long day, but a good one. Even Vaya's unsettling look wasn't enough to dampen the excitement Netya now felt by being in the presence of such fascinating people. For the first time in her life she was free from everything, learning the ways of a woman and experiencing things that had seemed forever beyond her reach back in the village. She was hungry for more.
Fern took them back to her tent, but explained that she would be joining some of the other young hunters for the rest of the night. The night was the time of a wolf, and she had been invited to follow Vaya's trail back to where her kills had been made so that they might continue tracking the herd she had stumbled across. One successful hunt was no reason to become complacent in times of need, and there was much glory to be had in building upon Vaya's success rather than letting it slip through their fingers.
Fern rekindled the inside fire and allowed Netya to curl up in the bed of warm furs, before wishing her a good night and slipping out through the flap of the tent.
It was strange to be on her own. Ever since meeting the Moon People she had never been left alone for long, and now at last she finally had time to let her thoughts wander as she lay there staring up at the stars through the open smoke flap. She wondered where Khelt had been that evening. Part of her had been excited to see whether he would call her back to his bed again, despite still hurting a little from the last time. She wanted to experience more of the pleasures shared between women and men. Pleasures that these people seemed to embrace so freely, without any of the mystery or reserve that surrounded the topic in her own home.
Her body tingled as she imagined firm, masculine hands running over it, massaging the soft and sensitive places that longed to be touched. She thought of Khelt's broad form looming over her, the perspiration beading on his chest and his hot breath rushing passionately against her ear.
Most of all she remembered the hot, piercing intrusion of his manhood opening up her body, and how much she now longed to experience that feeling of fullness once again. Her hand began to stray downwards until it found the tender bud between her legs that Khelt had elicited so much pleasure from. She touched it gently, and a gasp left her lips as the spot brought back the sensations of the previous night more vividly than any memory.
Her fingers moved slowly, shivers rippling over her skin as she allowed her thoughts to stray to other men, Layon, Caspian, the powerful hunters who had walked in with Vaya...
An unexpected cry left her lips, and she was forced to bury her face in the furs as she convulsed with a surge of pleasure; the same intense climax Khelt had given her in his bed. It was less heady, and did not carry her through the same peaks and ebbs that the alpha's lovemaking had accomplished, but it left her trembling and gasping all the same, her head buried in the crook of an arm as she reeled from the sensation.
A smile lit Netya's lips as she caught her breath. If these were the pleasures of a woman, she was glad to have been introduced to them.
—8—
Among Wolves
Khelt was gone for almost another two days. The pack seemed to defer to Caspian in his absence, though little leadership seemed necessary as the group formed new hunting plans and set about the business of preserving much of their fresh kill for the winter. It was a strange time for Netya as she became acclimated to daily life among the Moon People. They slept late, many of them spending the night hours out on the plains as wolves before returning home to sleep during the day, dozing in their tents until noon. This left Netya with the camp practically to herself in the mornings. The elders who lacked the energy to spend all night out with the others were her only company, along with an occasional mother woken early by her infant. They did not engage much with Netya, though she could tell by their reactions that a few of the elders understood at least some of her language.
It was frustrating to feel so intentionally isolated, and it was during those quiet mornings that she found herself thinking most about home. More than once she wondered how far she might get across the plains before the Moon People caught up with her. Certainly not far enough. The land stretched out endlessly around them, and the knowledge that the wolves could run faster, harder, and for longer than her kept Netya prisoner far more effectively than the bars of any cage.
Still, she did not like to think of her position in those terms. She did not feel like a captive, more a guest, and she had already experienced things among the Moon People that would have compelled her to stay even without the implicit threat. In her youthful optimism, she never truly considered the possibility that she might never see her home again.
While the quiet mornings allowed Netya's mind to wander, the afternoons left her no such time for introspection. Fern was keen to take her out foraging, spending hours chattering away about old topics that became fresh and new in the company of a stranger. Netya, too, found herself responding in kind, enjoying the rare opportunity to recount the stories of her people to someone who had never heard them before. She also became aware that Fern seemed somewhat distanced from the other members of the pack her age. It was nothing compared to the isolation Netya was subjected to, but during meal times she noticed that, while many of the other pack members might occasionally come over to talk with Fern, they rarely sat with her for the whole meal.
Vaya seemed to command a lot of respect among the young men and women of the pack, especially in the wake of her successful hunt, and it was around her that the others often gathered. The imposing huntress made Netya nervous whenever she was around, but the only member of the pack that filled her with genuine unease was the den mother, Adel. It was rare that she appeared outside her cave, but when she did conversations dimmed and anxious eyes followed her wherever she went. It was subtle, perhaps not something the pack even realised they were doing, but Netya saw it clear as day. Adel commanded a level of respect and fear that seemed to outstrip that o
f the alpha himself. Even without asking why, she could sense the power that radiated from the tall, dark-haired woman. She walked among the Moon People as though she was striding through another world, watching them like a lofty spirit traversing their mortal landscape. Netya might have been called a witch by the other girls in jest, but Adel was a woman truly deserving of the title. Her dark eyes held an understanding of the secrets that others had glimpsed only briefly in the land of dreams and nightmares.
Thankfully the den mother did not take it upon herself to speak to Netya again, all but ignoring her presence every time she appeared to bathe or collect food that would always be eaten in private. Netya was glad. If there was one person who could have convinced her to act on her thoughts of escape, it was Adel.
At sunset on Netya's fourth day among the Moon People, Khelt returned.
He strode back into camp along with the man he had been speaking to in his den, the pair both looking weary, but satisfied. Keen to cement her good first impression—with the others as much as the alpha—Netya stood up and hurried to greet him.
Immediately she regretted the decision. Out of the corner of her eye she saw people rising to their feet in alarm. Khelt's companion stared at her incredulously, clearly shocked that she would approach the alpha in such a fashion.
Netya froze, her chest tightening as she realised her error. These were a people of customs and tradition, and while she had yet to understand much of their way of life, she did know that anything involving the alpha was steeped in a heavy sense of humility and respect. Someone with no real rank among the pack approaching him so readily clearly seemed to be a violation.
She stood there for a moment, the burning sensation at the back of her neck growing as she felt a dozen pairs of eyes watching her. Her first thought was to bow her head in deference as she had seen Fern do after being chastised, but instead she found herself looking to the alpha, wanting to see his judgement for herself.