The Alpha's Concubine (Historical Shifter Romance)

by Claudia King

  "No man has ever taken me like that," she panted at last, once she had slid half way down Caspian's lap and regained enough of her breath to talk.

  "Few women are able to let me," he replied, massaging Netya's glistening chest with one hand while the other stroked her hair. "But you are wise to the things your body tells you. It has been a long time since I have taken a female so far."

  "It felt as if my spirit had come loose from me." She turned her head to kiss his arm, squirming against the furs as she glowed with satisfaction. "You are the one who is wise and skilled in the ways of pleasure."

  Caspian let out a long breath, lying back on the furs and allowing Netya to crawl atop him. "There is something in that spirit of yours, Netya. I cannot tell what it is, but there is a spark there. I did not see it for a long time, but it has grown into a fire during your time with us."

  She rested her cheek against his chest, smiling. It pleased her like nothing else to hear such words from Caspian. "I still do not believe my spirit is a special one."

  "It is different, though. Often that is enough."

  Netya closed her eyes for a moment, content to feel the gentle pulse of Caspian's heart and the slow movement of his body beneath her. "Will you do this again with me?" she asked.

  He paused before answering. "I told you, hearts are dangerous things to toy with."

  "I did not ask you to be my mate."

  "Would you feel the same after the next time we made love? Or the time after?" He ran a hand through his hair. "It is not easy to forget how fond the spirit grows on nights like these. We are free to take our pleasures with whomever we desire, but once Khelt returns he will expect you to be his again. I would never put myself between you and him."

  "I care for you both."

  Caspian's hand crept down to tousle her own hair. "That is why it would be better for us not to lie with one another again. When two wolves vie for the affection of a single female, it rarely ends well."

  Netya's heart sank, and she clung to him tighter. "Why must hearts be so difficult to understand?"

  "If they were simple, they would not be special." He cupped her cheek and sat up to kiss her one more time. "Much like you."

  —27—

  Netya's Mentor

  Netya awoke in her own tent the following morning. Caspian must have carried her back after she fell asleep curled up next to him. She stretched contentedly, squirming in her furs as she recalled their night together. Of the men she had been with over the past year, he was the first one to have elevated their lovemaking to something beyond what she understood of it so far. Were there peaks of intimacy that rose even higher than those Caspian had shared with her? If she found a mate some day, a person she truly loved, would they take her to further places still?

  Netya rolled over, propping an arm beneath her cheek. Had she even experienced love yet? Was it the sense of duty she felt to Khelt, and the longing she had to make him open his heart to her? If he would only share that part of himself, and claim her as his mate properly, she might be able to love him.

  But Caspian had been so honest with her since the moment they met. He saw her as she truly was, not a concubine or a girl from a rival tribe, but simply as Netya. It filled her with joy to picture the small symbol he had made that meant her name. Such a tiny gesture, but one that touched her heart more than any grand gift. Was the way she felt about Caspian love? And if it was, how would she ever allow it to grow? She was bound to Khelt, at least until she bore him an heir, and that was unlikely to happen for as long as she continued taking Adel's herbs. Perhaps once her dwindling supply ran out she should simply stop and allow nature to take its course, have Khelt's child, and then allow her heart to roam where it wished.

  She sighed, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. She did not especially want to become a mother, she knew that now. There was too much she longed to do and experience in her life before raising children. She wanted to travel and see the North People, visit the distant mountains, attend one of the great gatherings of packs the Moon People spoke of. Most of all she desired a role she could call her own, whether it was as a hunter, seer, or something else.

  How did it seem that love was a delicate thread lost within an impossible tangle of pathways spreading out before her? She could see glimpses of it, touch and tug at it, but following it would lead her into the wilderness, where all other paths collapsed and nothing was certain.

  If Fern had been there Netya would have talked it over with her friend, but the other girl was absent from their tent that morning. Either she had been out all night as her wolf, or had found her way to the bed of one of their friends.

  Netya got up and rekindled the fire with some borrowed embers from the central hearth, then made her way down to the river to bathe while it was still quiet. The weather was still too cold for most of the pack to take to the river directly, but Netya liked the way the icy water woke her up, along with the feeling of wrapping herself in a warm fur as she dried off by the fire afterwards.

  One of the seers must have been keeping watch for her outside their cave, for no sooner had Netya shed her clothes and slipped into the river than an elder woman hurried down the slope after her, clearly with the intention of delivering a message.

  "Your apprenticeship will begin today," the seer announced as Netya blinked up at her from the water. "Come to the cave at sundown, and Adel will select your mentor." With her piece said the woman departed, leaving Netya shivering, as much with anticipation as from the cold.

  "It is no surprise it happened now," Fern said when she reappeared at midday. "With Khelt gone, Adel will see it as a good opportunity to bring you into her fold without him interfering."

  "You make it sound so sinister," Netya replied.

  "With the den mother it often is. She rarely makes any decision without ensuring it will serve her purposes in some way."

  "I do not know whether to feel afraid or excited to be part of her order."

  Fern gave her a reassuring look. "As long as you stay out of her way and mind the words of your mentor I think you will have little to worry about. Adel is intimidating, but all the seers agree that she is as wise and talented a den mother as they have ever known. They have done well under her, and you shall too."

  Fern's words helped to sooth Netya's worries a little. Brae and most of the other seers had always treated her kindly, if a little distantly at times. Their ways seemed strange, but if they could thrive in spite of Adel, perhaps she could too. Certainly, if she became a seer, she would no longer need to worry about the likes of Vaya picking on her. She decided to focus on the positives, resolving that she would not allow her feelings toward the den mother to interfere with her apprenticeship.

  The sudden announcement had the fortunate effect of taking Netya's mind off matters of love and companionship for a short while, but as the hours before sunset dragged by her thoughts couldn't help but creep back to the previous night.

  "Does Caspian speak of himself much?" she asked Fern as they spent the afternoon smoothing down freshly made bone needles that had been crafted from the spoils of the last hunt.

  "He tends to speak of anything if you ask him, but you know him well enough by now. He keeps his thoughts inside most of the time. Why do you ask?"

  "I realised I do not know him as well as I should. Does he have family in the pack?"

  Fern shook her head, keeping her eyes on the rough stone she was smoothing her needle against with a piece of leather. "I think his father came from another clan. Several of our parents were lost during the time we fought your people and Adel's most viciously. Caspian's mother was one of those who died on the hunt that drove the alpha and den mother apart."

  That made Netya pause. "She was the seer who was killed?"

  Fern nodded. "Caspian and Khelt were already close, but they became like brothers after that. The alpha's mother died shortly after he was born, and his father was already old. Khelt lost his father and inherited the title of alpha just a few mon
ths before Caspian lost the last of his family too."

  "He did not tell me that part," Netya mused.

  Fern looked up from her work. "You spoke to him about this?"

  "Yes, last night." Netya flushed, unsure of how much to share with her friend. She knew Fern was not the sort to become genuinely jealous, but the events of the previous evening still felt private somehow.

  "Netya." Fern tutted, a smile spreading across her lips. "There are some things you are even worse at hiding than me."

  Netya squirmed for a moment, before relenting. There was no point in trying to keep it hidden now. "Promise you will not tell anyone?"

  "He took you to his bed last night?"

  Netya bobbed her head. "I do not mean to keep it a secret. It just... felt special, in some way."

  "If I am to keep it to myself, I must know every detail! That is my price for staying silent." Fern seemed to have perked up immediately once the sombre topic turned to matters of love, and Netya found it difficult to refuse her once her interest had been piqued.

  "I did not mean for it to happen," Netya began, fumbling her way awkwardly through the events that had ended with her lying in the furs with Caspian. Soon they were talking in hushed whispers, and the dark-haired girl recounted everything she could remember. Fern's expression creased with emotion as the truth of Khelt and Adel's tale came out, and for a short while she seemed worryingly preoccupied with the revelation. It awoke a glimmer of concern in Netya's heart when her friend swept whatever had been bothering her aside and, almost disingenuously, pushed for more details about Caspian.

  There seemed a hidden well of emotion within Fern that longed to escape, but whenever it did, it hurt her, and she hurried to bury it in her eagerness to pursue the more pleasurable things in life. It was rare that Netya touched upon this closed-off side of her friend, but it had happened enough times now for her to become aware of it. The only time Fern had let it slip out uncontrollably had been when she confronted Vaya all those months ago. Netya wished she had understood, or could remember, what the huntress had said to provoke such a powerful reaction, but whatever it was it had clearly pierced deep into the heart of whatever burden Fern carried.

  These were all distant thoughts, and Netya had not the first clue how or why she might bring them up with her friend, but they sat at the back of her mind like a lingering ghost, intangible and unsettling.

  Fern was an expert in regaining her upbeat mood, however, and before long she had tugged Netya back into the exciting gossip of love and lovemaking, sharing a tale of her own about how she and Nathar had spent the early hours of that morning. The things Fern described soon had Netya blushing again, and by the time the sun had begun to set her thoughts were leagues away from the vague sense of unease that had threatened to encroach on them.

  The two young women were smoothing down their last pair of needles when Erech limped over to the spot outside their tent, excitement in his eyes.

  "I just came from the seers' cave, Netya," he said. "They are ready for you now."

  She was greeted not by one of the elders as she had expected, but a young seer named Selo, who had just recently finished her own apprenticeship. Netya had glimpsed the inner part of the cave many times as she walked past, but only the small circular chamber at the entrance was ever visible. It was where the seers would often sit when they were grinding herbs, sewing leather, or going about their other practical daily tasks. There was usually someone there to attend to the needs of the pack members who stopped by, but on the far side of that first chamber a thick curtain of darkly stained hides hung from a wooden frame, concealing the inner cave from view. In that private sanctum the seers performed all of their rituals, communing with the spirits and seeking out the wisdom that came from a place beyond the physical world. It was also where they stored all of their most potent herbs and medicines, the ones that were powerful or dangerous when administered incorrectly.

  The seers' cave was a haven of dark mystery that held secrets even the Moon People themselves barely knew, and now it was Netya's turn to have them revealed to her. She felt terribly inadequate standing there in her simple gown and moccasins next to Selo, who was dressed in an extravagant shawl of fur and a deer-pelt headdress. There was no fire burning in the small antechamber, and the cool air immediately crept its way up Netya's back as Selo instructed her to wait and slipped behind the hide curtains.

  She rubbed her arms, gazing at the cave walls around her. Now that her presence here was permitted, she no longer felt so guilty about staring at the fascinating murals that covered the inner walls. Most of them were aged and faded, but the daubs of red and dark-blue pigment formed patterns that were very unlike any she had seen before. Some clearly depicted the outlines of wolves and men, but they had been drawn in such a way as to appear jagged and wild, every shape covered in uneven edges that made it seem more like a spirit made of fog or smoke. The murals reminded Netya of the way her mind had made the Moon People into otherworldly monsters the first time she saw them, and she wondered whether the shapes before her were supposed to represent not what the eye saw, but what the spirit sensed in the world around it.

  Selo returned a few moments later and gestured for her to step forward. The seer's expression was solemn, but when she saw how nervous Netya was she gave her a small smile of understanding.

  "I was afraid too," she said quietly. "Fear is something you will learn to understand soon, as every seer must."

  Netya took a deep breath and tried to still her quaking heart. A dozen anxious thoughts rushed through her head as she approached the curtain. What if she lacked the wisdom to become a seer? What if the ways of the spirits proved too dark and terrifying for her? Would her mentor be someone kind like Brae, or one of the elders who seemed more like Adel?

  She slipped her hand past the first curtain, feeling her way through several more until she was forced to leave the light of the outside world behind her and fumble through near-darkness, pushing aside half a dozen drapes until she stepped out into the place where she would learn to become a seer.

  The cave was far larger than the antechamber, and Netya stumbled as the ground sloped sharply beneath her feet the moment she entered. The earthen floor had been excavated down to the bare stone beneath, creating a roughly circular chamber that quickly narrowed as it stretched deeper into the heart of the outcrop. In the dim light Netya could make out more frames and curtains that separated off other areas. The coals of a fire marked the centre of the cave, but from the heavy herbal scents in the air Netya suspected there were few natural vents for smoke to escape through. Most of the illumination came from shallow clay lamps scattered about the area, and the fats and oils they burned gave off strange colours of light that seemed less warm than usual.

  Netya had suspected some grand ritual or ceremony to await her, but she was met with nothing more than a small circle of seers standing in the middle of the chamber. Several faces were missing, and it was with great relief that Netya realised Adel's was among them. The den mother's absence did much to ease her anxiety, and she bowed her head in respect before stepping forward, wondering which of these women had been tasked with her instruction.

  Brae greeted her first with no more formality than she ever did, letting out a sigh of pleasure as she cupped the air a few inches from Netya's cheeks. "I praised the den mother's wisdom in choosing you. Those who begin young often go on to become the greatest of seers."

  "Thank you, Mother," Netya responded politely. "Will you be the one to instruct me?"

  "As much as I would like to, no, that task has been appointed to another."

  Netya glanced around the group, waiting for her mentor to reveal herself. Several moments passed, and no one stepped forward.

  Brae pressed her fingers to her mouth, drumming the balls of her feet against the ground. "The den mother should have sent your mentor here to greet you."

  "Do you not know who it is?" Netya asked.

  "No, it is often a private matt
er until the apprentice arrives." Brae paused, the agitated patter of her moccasins increasing. "Of course, every mentor does have the right to deny an apprentice."

  Netya's chest tightened as the uncomfortable silence continued.

  "Well, Adel never asked me," one of the elder seers grumbled. "I don't mean to cause offence, Netya, but many of us have concerns about sharing the ways of the seerhood with one of your kind."

  A few of the others murmured in agreement, and Netya had to clench her fists to keep from joining Brae in her bout of anxious fiddling. She had never stopped to think that there might be those among the seers who cared just as little for her joining their order as Vaya had cared for letting a Sun girl join the hunt. Under the inquisitive eyes of the group of wise women, her skin began to burn. She could not be humiliated like this before her apprenticeship had even begun, not after she had set her hopes so firmly on this one last opportunity.

  The seers began to talk among themselves. Netya's mentor, whoever it was, showed no signs of breaking her silence.

  "Adel has done this," Netya whispered under her breath, struggling to control the angry heat swelling in her throat and pressing at her eyes.

  "What?" Brae placed a hand on her shoulder.

  "Was this the den mother's doing?" Netya said, more loudly. "Did she let me believe I was to become a seer all this time only so that I could come here and be humiliated like a fool?!"

  The seers fell quiet, fixing their disapproving stares on the girl in their midst. The shame squeezing at Netya's throat threatened to spill out at any moment, but when she looked to the faces of the seers one by one, seeking out the woman who had spurned her, she saw no contempt or malice in any of their expressions, only confusion that mirrored her own.

  "I did not." Adel's voice sounded from the far end of the cave. All heads turned as the den mother strode forward, soon looming over every other woman in the chamber as she approached Netya. The group moved apart to let her through, and even Brae backed off a few steps.