The Alpha's Concubine (Historical Shifter Romance)

by Claudia King

  Then, almost as soon as it had started, the patter of falling earth gave way to the sound of rain again. Khelt rose to his knees, lifting first Netya then Erech's upper body free of the cascade of mud that had fallen just short of burying them. The voices of the others reached her ears, and amidst the cries of alarm and concern she heard Fern calling her name. She lifted a hand, waving weakly to signal that she was alive, but could not bring herself to speak. Erech was no longer moving, and his grip had loosened on her hand.

  Khelt called out a series of commands in his own tongue, and as Fern hurried down the slope to embrace Netya the hunters she had been sent to gather followed. The slab pinning Erech had been shattered into pieces by the impact of the second falling rock. He was still trapped, and Netya feared that his maimed leg might have been crushed even further beyond hope of healing, but with three strong men on either side of the broken slab they were able to lift it just enough for Netya, Fern, and Khelt to drag the unconscious man free.

  Adel and her seers descended on him a moment later, ushering everyone else aside as they attempted to clean Erech's mangled leg and bind it in place against a straight branch. Netya was too shaken to do anything but watch. The Moon People had resumed talking in their own language, and she could not even begin to try and pick apart what they were saying.

  "They will take him into the seers' cave," Fern said as she held her friend in her arms. "If he is to live, they will need to keep watch over him all night."

  "And his leg?" Netya forced out through quivering lips. She had not noticed, but her whole body was freezing. The weight of the bag inside her clothing pressed against her stomach, but she could not bring herself to care about whether it had been ruined by the rain.

  "They do not seem hopeful, but Adel says she will not have to remove it. Was she really going to do that?"

  Netya nodded, allowing Fern to guide her after the others as they bore Erech up on an improvised stretcher of clothing and carried him carefully down to the base of the outcrop, where they could more safely skirt around to the camp's main entrance.

  Even with Erech's life hanging by a thread, what frightened Netya more was the confrontation she had witnessed between Khelt and Adel. None of the others had been close enough to see or hear what passed between them, but she now understood why the rivalry between the alpha and den mother was only ever spoken of in nervous whispers, or not at all. If fate had not intervened when it did, what would have happened? Whatever had sparked the conflict between them could not have been animosity over an unwanted mating. It was clear from what Netya had seen that it ran far deeper than that. The two were like fire and ice, and their fierce pride would not falter an inch when they came up against one another.

  More worrying still, Netya did not know whether it was Khelt or Adel who had been in the right.

  —18—

  Winter

  The rains continued, the warmth of summer faded, and Erech drifted between life and death as he lay within the seers' cave. Netya braved the weather to ask after him every morning and evening, and the lack of news worried her. It was not common for the Moon People to take so long to recover. Even with the severity of Erech's wounds, Fern said he should have come back from the brink within a day or two. Sickness and infection were so rare as to be almost unheard of among the pack, but they were not impossible.

  The seers said little. Adel often sent Netya away before she could hear news of Erech's condition one way or another, but it seemed clear that the young man was battling more than just broken bones and torn flesh.

  Khelt remained withdrawn in the privacy of his own den while his wounded shoulder healed. He did not call on Netya once while Erech's life still hung by a thread, and besides Caspian the only visitors he accepted were the seers.

  Fern seemed even more convinced of Netya's great destiny following the events of the storm, and it made her cringe with guilt every time the other girl boasted of how her friend had run out into the rain, as if called by the spirits themselves, to save Erech's life. The true reason for her actions that evening remained an uncomfortable secret, and she turned down as many of the compliments and gifts she received afterwards as she could. For months she had longed for the pack to embrace her as one of their own, and, now that she finally seemed to be gaining their respect, it was based on a half-truth. She had found Erech, yes, but it was no divine wisdom that had led her to him.

  When she tried to explain to Erech's mother, the ample woman refused to hear a single word of Netya's self-deprecation, drawing her into a crushing hug and holding her there as she professed that, no matter where she had come from, the Sun girl was now as much of a daughter to her as any of the other young females, and that she would always have a place by her family's hearth should she want it.

  Dishonesty did not sit well with Netya, but with no way to explain why she had been out in the storm that evening, the Moon People were quick to settle for their own conclusions. She sat up several nights in her hammock when Fern was asleep, staring at the bag of herbs in her hands as she listened to the patter of the rain. With the bundle tucked into her bedding for safekeeping, it was never far from her thoughts for long, and in Khelt's absence she had much time to ponder over her future. Erech's brush with death had sobered her, and she now realised that her impending motherhood was not a decision she should leave up to chance. Bearing Khelt's child would shape her life from that moment on, and she could not afford to take the wrong path. There could be a place for her here among the pack. She knew that now. But there was also a place waiting for her back in the village, with a family whose affections and loyalty she would not need to earn.

  She wished she had someone to talk to about it, but who could she share such troubles with? Khelt might send her away if she revealed that she was having second thoughts about giving him his heir. Fern would listen to her, and she wanted to believe that the other girl would support any decision she made, but her friend was still fiercely loyal to the pack. If she suspected Netya was about to make the wrong choice, would she be able to sit by and let it happen? Fern would never betray her confidence maliciously, but she might do so out of concern.

  Who did that leave? She and Erech did not speak enough of the same language to discuss such a complex problem. Caspian might understand, but did he even care for her enough for it to matter? She suspected his loyalty to Khelt took precedence over any fondness he might have for a young female.

  Only one person remained, and it was the last person in the world Netya wanted to share such an intimate conversation with. Adel was the only one who knew her secret, but what compassion could she possibly harbour for a girl she seemed to regard with such great contempt? Any advice Netya hoped to get from the seer would be coloured with deceit, and yet it was perhaps the only advice she felt safe in accepting at that moment.

  As heavy as Netya's burden of decision was, it was still not great enough to make her seek an audience with Adel.

  Erech lived, but he did not walk again until the wet season had ended and winter was almost upon them. Netya and Fern took him down to the edge of the river, where he practiced putting weight on his crippled leg with the aid of a crutch. The two of them gave him eager encouragement with each step he managed, but even Erech seemed to know that his best efforts would never return his body to the way it once was. His leg was horribly scarred, the flesh misshapen where it had healed, and even his best efforts were not enough to coax more than a twitch of movement from his toes.

  They took him down to the river every day, and gradually the young male grew strong enough to walk short distances by himself, but the effort and pain it caused him made Netya's chest hurt every time she watched. She knew the reason he allowed her and Fern to come with him was because he could not stand to let the other young men see him like this. His blue eyes had hollowed of the pride and vigour they once held, and he spent much of his time away from the group rather than joining them around their fires.

  "Erech will hunt again," Netya said
to him one morning as they sat huddled together in a pair of warm cloaks, watching the first flakes of snow fall. "Many years, much strength, but Erech will hunt again. Then, honour greater than ever." She smiled at him, desperately hoping that the meaning of her inelegant words came through. The cold had been causing his leg more pain than ever, and she worried that winter would take an even greater toll on the young man's spirit.

  He looked at her, and a tiny glimmer of warmth reappeared in his expression. It was not the exuberance of the old Erech, but it was a spark of life all the same.

  "You have been a good friend to me," he said, and took her mittened hand in his. "Wise seer Netya."

  She flushed and looked away. She was no seer, and there was little wisdom in being kind. But she stayed by his side, and they watched the snow fall together until the cold began to pain Erech's leg, and she helped him back inside his mother's earth lodge where a warm fire waited.

  As the plains froze around them the pack retreated one by one into the larger, warmer dwellings, until at last most of them abandoned the main camp to congregate in the winter caves near the rear of the outcrop, beneath the higher dens of the seers and alpha. Food stores, bedding, firewood, and crafting supplies were all transported down, and a heavy screen of branches and animal hides was dusted off and refurbished to cover the entrance and seal in the warmth. Over the course of a week the damp and lonely caves were transformed into a cosy winter refuge, with families and friends building hearths together and each staking claim to their own corner.

  Erech's family invited Netya and Fern to join their fire, and they were happy to be welcomed into the loud, but otherwise very friendly group. Netya had hoped to snag one of the smaller caves linked to the sides of the main chamber, but those were quickly claimed by the high hunters and their kin. Vaya and Tal's group secured their own spot first, marking the entrance with a line of bones from their final hunt of the year, as if daring anyone of low status to cross into their territory.

  Old Oke, who had long since lost the hunting status of his youth, but had replaced it with equally strong bonds of loyalty and respect from the middle-aged hunters he had trained, took another of the chambers with his entourage. The rest of the warmest, most private spots became a source of competition among the others, and several bloody fights broke out between the boisterous young hunters who each felt their claim was more worthy than those of their peers.

  Netya tried her best to turn a blind eye to the proceedings, but Fern and Erech reminded her that fights would only become more common as the winter dragged on and the pack's stifled aggressions sought an outlet. Try as she might, she could not muster the same enthusiasm for the violent sport as the rest of the Moon People. It was a reminder of how, in many ways, she was still very different from them.

  It was with these thoughts that she found herself lying in Khelt's furs one evening, glad for the respite from the hubbub of the caves and the space to think it brought her. She gazed into the fire as the alpha lay on his arm behind her, toying with her hair between his fingers.

  "Has this really become my home?" she said, shivering as a cold draft found its way in from outside. "My own people seem so distant now. Sometimes I go days without even thinking about them."

  "Where does your heart belong?" Khelt murmured.

  "I do not know. It is somewhere out there on the plains, searching for a direction to turn."

  "Then I hope it turns toward us," he said, putting a hand on her shoulder where her skin had prickled from the cold. "I meant it when I said you were free to leave, Netya. But, spirits help me, for months I have worried myself trying to decide how to break it to my pack if that day ever does come. It would upset me greatly to see you go."

  She rolled over to face him, searching out his eyes in the dark and catching a glimpse of the intimacy she so often longed for. "You mean much to me too, my alpha."

  "Please, use my name when we are alone together. The alpha is the man who lives outside of this cave."

  "If I were not to bear you an heir..." Netya began. "Would you still desire me?"

  "You have many years left to become a mother. It will happen, in time."

  "But would you still desire me?" she asked again.

  Khelt paused, then kissed her lips gently. "Any man would desire such a kind, beautiful, attentive young female. I may never be able to take you as my mate, but that is not through lack of wanting. I do care for you."

  He said the words with sincerity, but Netya did not accept them blindly as she might have done a few months ago. She believed that Khelt meant what he said. He truly did care for her, in his own way. But, as they both well knew, she could never be his mate. They would not sit out on the outcrop together watching the snow fall, or lie together in the warmth of the summer fires, or share a winter in the caves with their children like Erech's mother and father did. Without a mate to call his own, Khelt would always be an alpha first and a lover second.

  "What if you were to take me as your mate?" she asked.

  The question clearly took Khelt off guard. She rarely asked him of such personal matters. Just as the frown had begun to creep into his expression and a stern dismissal threatened, Netya put a hand on his chest gave him an imploring look.

  "You said the alpha was the man outside this cave. Will you not leave him there, just this once?"

  Khelt's expression softened a little. "You can never become my mate, Netya."

  "But if I did?"

  "Many in the pack would be unsettled. They would question my wisdom. Perhaps some might even challenge me for leadership. Dissent is an alpha's greatest enemy." He looked away for a moment, a look of distaste crossing his features at what he said next. "You have heard the tale of how Adel came to be our den mother by now, yes?"

  She nodded.

  "Her old pack do not have the strength to challenge us, but they are not our friends. I already dishonoured them when I refused to take Adel as my mate, and if I were to choose another in her place they would be provoked even further. I have no wish to return to those old bloody days of rivalry."

  "How would they ever know? Do they not live far to the south?"

  Khelt snorted and sat up, throwing back the warm furs. "Adel would find a way to send word. She is wily enough to slip anything by me."

  "Would she really go so far?"

  "What do you think? You saw her the night Erech was hurt. She would have maimed him just to try and prove me wrong."

  Netya bit her tongue, stifling the response she wanted to give. As little as she cared for the den mother, she did not believe Adel had been trying to score petty points against Khelt in saving Erech. She had simply taken a different, perhaps more drastic, but perhaps more necessary, route to freeing him. If the second landslide had not shattered the rock pinning the young man, Adel's way might have been his only chance at survival.

  "I hate to spend these evenings talking of her," Khelt muttered.

  Netya sat up, pulling the furs to her chest as she put a hand on his arm. "Khelt," she said gently, "will you tell me what happened between the two of you? It frightens me to see the way you look at her sometimes." She felt him tense, and when he spoke again his voice had hardened into the gravelly tones of the alpha.

  "It is nothing you need to hear."

  "It would help me to understand. Perhaps it would help you also?"

  "There is nothing to understand! Mind your place, Netya, I am still your alpha." He threw the furs off and swung his legs over the side of the bed, bristling as he paced to the far wall of the chamber.

  His anger frightened Netya, but she swallowed her misgivings and crept to the edge of the bed. She'd glimpsed the tender part of him that for months she had longed to reach, and she would not let it go now. "It must be painful for you. I know some of your pack died—"

  "Is this what I bring you to my bed for?!" Khelt exclaimed, rounding on her. "To hound me with these insolent questions? Take your clothes and return to the cave with the others. I have no more u
se for you tonight."

  Tears came to Netya's eyes. Khelt had never spoken to her in such a way before, and his scorn hurt more than any physical blow he could have dealt. In an instant she no longer felt like his lover. His words had reduced her to the alpha's plaything, something to be enjoyed and cast aside once its lustre was spent.

  "It is freezing outside," she said.

  "Then wear your cloak." He gathered up her clothing and dropped it on the bed before turning his back again.

  Netya dressed in silence, trying not to cry. She found her anger and clung on to it, choosing fury over despair. How could he be so callous? She had been trying to reach out to him, to touch a part of the alpha that he could share with no one else, and he had thrown it back in her face. Was he even capable of being the man she wanted?

  Khelt's back remained turned, refusing to look at her. Netya wanted to confront him further, but she remembered the last time she had made a fool of herself by allowing her anger to run wild. It was not that she feared his response, but that, deep down, she realised it would be a pointless effort. He had closed his heart off to her, and once his mind was made up Khelt's will was stronger than stone. She may as well have beaten her fists against the rocks of the cave wall.

  Tugging her cloak tight around her shoulders, Netya wiped the moisture from her eyes and stepped out through the drapes into the biting cold. It was not a long walk down to the caves, but it was far enough for the chill to seep into her clothing and pierce her sensitive skin. She had become comfortable in Khelt's bed as her tender body relaxed in the afterglow of lovemaking, and the sharp contrast of being thrust out into the winter air made her discomfort all the worse.