by Claudia King
Some of the alphas had painted only plants and trees. Others made patterns that seemed to mean nothing at all. One was smaller than the span of two hands, while the largest took Netya many long strides to walk past.
At the far end of the mural, an unfinished pattern sat daubed in red paint.
"Is this yours?" Netya said as she put out her hand to touch the painting. She heard Khelt's heavy breath in the stillness of the cave behind her. His hands settled on her shoulders. He said nothing, but his closeness seemed answer enough.
"What is your painting going to be?" she asked. The red smears of paint curled from the end of the last mural into the beginnings of shapes, but they had yet to take any form Netya could recognise.
"I do not know," Khelt said at last. The sincerity in his voice made Netya's heart jolt. "I have sat here all day sometimes, waiting for the spirits to tell me. I made those marks on the wall hoping my hands would know where to take them, but they never became anything." He squeezed her shoulders. "Since you have been at my side, I have started to see where they might lead."
Netya turned around and looked up at him. His expression was strained, as if something inside him was struggling to find its way out. She took his hand and clasped it to her breast. The was a chink of light shining through the veil that separated them.
"I care for you, Khelt, but—"
"But your heart longs for more, I know," he said. "At first I thought it was because you were uncomfortable being my consort. But it goes beyond that, doesn't it?"
Netya bit her lower lip. "I understand little of love," she began, "but I believe it should be a joining of spirits, where two become one. I want to understand all of you, and for you to understand all of me. You know I am happy to perform my duties for you, but I do not know if what we have is love. Not yet."
"I wish I could join my soul to yours as you say," Khelt replied. "Your spirit is beautiful and pure, and perhaps it deserves a partner just as innocent. It is not that I wish to hide myself from you, Netya, but there are things I wish to protect you from. Things I would forget myself if I could."
Netya opened her mouth to speak, but Khelt hushed her. "I must say this. It has been on my mind for longer than you know. I brought you here to show you how much I am willing to share. This cave is a secret to all save you and I. Perhaps the spirits of my forebears are angry that I have brought a woman of the Sun People so such a sacred place, but I have done it all the same. There are some things, like this, that make me happy to share with you, but there are others that will bring only sadness." He cupped the back of her neck with his hand, looking into her eyes with longing. "I cannot take you as my mate in the presence of my pack, but I can do it out here. If you can accept what I am able to offer, I promise to give you nothing but happiness. There is no other female I desire more."
Netya studied the face of her lover, not with the wide-eyed awe of the girl he had taken from the village, but with the regard of an older, wiser woman. It had only been a year, but she had learned more in that short time than a lifetime among her own people might have taught her. She was learning to see things through the eyes of a seer, and she turned that gaze toward what lay in her own heart, along with what she saw in Khelt's expression.
"You would have me as your mate," she said, "but you make it sound like an agreement. The parts of yourself, of your past, that you want to shelter me from are the very things I long to hear most. I do not care if they bring nothing but pain. Perhaps that is what makes me feel they are so important." She wanted to tell him she knew about what had happened between him and Adel. That she understood. That he should not blame himself, or the den mother, for things neither of them could change.
In that moment, she wondered whether she might be struggling with emotions that were hopelessly futile. She wanted Khelt to be different, to change somehow into the intimate lover she wanted him to be. Was it foolish to try and change a man who would rather break his body against an immovable boulder than accept defeat? Was she the one who had been creating this veil between them, through wanting more than Khelt was able to give?
He had been trying to tell her something in taking her to this place. Perhaps, if she learned to listen to the things he did share, rather than fixating on those he did not, she might find the spark of love she had been searching for.
In a rare moment of insight, Khelt seemed to understand what she was puzzling over. "I have said all I can," he murmured, kissing her hand. "You know how I feel for you. This is not a choice I will make on your behalf as alpha." He stepped back and led her gently to the stone altar in the centre of the cave. "Think over whatever you must. I will be here when you have an answer for me, whether it is an hour, or a month from now."
He brushed the altar clean of debris and allowed her to sit. Without another word, he returned to his mural, leaving Netya to stare at his back as both of them struggled with their own private thoughts. She tilted her chin up, letting the sunlight fall upon her face, and wondered.
It felt as if a turning point in her life was near. The world of spirits had been opened to her. Love was tugging her heart in different directions, demanding that it be given an answer. Her home was in two places at once, and she no longer knew to which one she belonged. She wanted more time. Khelt's proposal filled her with hope, but as one path opened to her, another was closed off. As she thought of pledging herself to Khelt, a steady ache grew inside her where her feelings for Caspian dwelt.
She watched as the alpha took an old wooden bowl and pestle from an alcove near the cave's entrance, adding water and dried berries to it, before grinding them to their pigment. With his back still turned, he sat down before his mural and began to paint.
He reminded Netya of the seers when their trances took them to the spirit world. Khelt dipped his fingers into the bowl, rested them against the cave wall, and waited. When he finally moved, it did not seem to be with any direction or purpose. He allowed the red lines to trail listlessly from his fingertips until they faded and dried. He stared at them, then repeated the motion again, just as slowly and patiently as before.
She watched him paint for a long time, almost falling into a trance herself as she rested back on the altar. Her fingers played with the pendant around her neck. How strange it was that something as simple as the markings made upon a cave wall or a piece of wood could be so full of meaning.
She did not need to hear the voices of the spirits that lingered in the cave to understand its significance. The patterns on the walls said everything in their place. Each painting was a spirit, a life, a responsibility. A weight built upon a weight, all resting on the shoulders of the one tasked with continuing the great mural.
Khelt might not have fully understood why he brought her here, but the message of the cave had gotten through to Netya. Perhaps, if this was what it meant for a man to be alpha, she could never expect of him what she might desire in others. By the very nature of his duty, he was bound in ways that she was not. Could she ever understand what it was like to live the life of a man destined to lead his people?
Netya closed her eyes and breathed deeply, brow twisting in contemplation. She was beginning to understand Khelt, but what did that mean if she could not understand her own desires still? The path to such wisdom was a long one, and she had barely taken her first steps.
"Will you talk with me again?" she said, when Khelt returned to the altar to mix more water with his pigment.
"You have the mind of a seer, always filled with thoughts that must get out," he replied, putting the bowl down beside her. "I cannot answer them in the ways you want. When you are with me, you need not be a seer. Let others answer those questions of yours, and let me tend the woman who is left once all of her questions are spent."
Netya's skin warmed as he ran his hand up her hip. "Is that enough for you?"
Khelt nodded, her gown bunching up beneath his hand. "When you decide whether it is enough for you also, you must tell me. Until then, let me bring out that woman I s
eek." He kissed her, drawing Netya in with his lips.
It was difficult not to give in. Losing herself in the handsome alpha's arms was a pleasure that allowed her to release all other thoughts and worries, and it would have been a lie to pretend she did not relish the unburdening of her mind through the ecstasy of her body. Khelt tugged the gown over her shoulders and let it drop to the altar behind her, his hands leaving streaks of crimson paint across her sides as he caressed her.
Perhaps she was overthinking something that was simpler than she believed. Khelt was a man who cared for her. The sort of man most women could only dream of having. He would care for her all her life, give her children, and be a dutiful father to them. Her mother would have all but forced her into such a perfect pairing, if only the partner in question had not been a man who could take the form of a wolf.
The stone of the altar was hard but smooth beneath her back, pleasantly warmed by the sun. She pressed herself against it as Khelt kissed his way down her body, his long hair falling across her bare skin like the brush of silken grass. The warmth of the alpha's lips moved back up her delicate throat, their intermingled breath quickening as he eased himself on top of her, parting her legs with his knees and unfastening his kilt so that his manhood could swing free.
Netya's hands found their way to his shoulders, her fingernails seeking purchase on his muscular body as he pressed into her, and her lips parted with a cry. It was not long before complex thoughts abandoned her completely, replaced with the sound of her voice echoing off the walls as pleasure claimed her.
—34—
A Mother's Guidance
"Do you know much of love, Den Mother?"
Adel look up from the pollen she was scraping from the stamen of a wild flower, gesturing for her apprentice to bring over their bag. "I know enough to have guided a dozen young women like you through these years of their lives."
"Will you consult your visions for me?" Netya asked as she unlooped the carrying strap from her spear and handed the bag to Adel. "There are so many things I am unsure of. If only there was someone who could give me reassurance, perhaps it might help to make my path more clear."
"Your path is with me, as a seer. You will have time for romance once your training is complete."
Netya's expression fell. "Is that what your visions have told you?"
"It does not matter what I have seen," Adel sighed. "You understand my ways now. I would only be telling you what I believed would help you most, and you would know it. Those who commune with the spirits as we do give up the privilege of believing they hold all the answers."
"It is just that the alpha—" Netya began, but Adel cut her off.
"I took you as my apprentice to help free you from him. If you are having thoughts of love, make sure they are not intended for that man."
"He is not the brute you think. What if I could be happy with him? What if I could help soothe his temper toward you?"
Adel huffed, taking the pouch she needed from within the bag and turning to find another flower. "A man like that will never be changed. If it were possible, I would have done it long ago, and without spreading my legs for him."
"You hurt me when you say such things, Den Mother," Netya said. It was true. Months ago, before she had known Adel, the scornful remarks had made her angry, and more than a little fearful of the woman. It had been easy to put those feelings where they belonged when she believed Adel to be nothing more than a cruel and bitter person, but now it was much more difficult. The den mother's words made her feel ashamed, foolish, useless... And alongside all of that, they evoked a hint of pity for her mentor.
"As if I would say them for any other reason," Adel replied. A moment of silence passed between them as the den mother squinted at the stamen between her fingers, then she paused, and let out another weary breath. "But, I suppose if you could be shamed into staying away from him then you would not be the apprentice I took you for. Do not believe for a moment that I approve of what he does with you, but I will hold my tongue if it upsets that timid heart of yours."
Netya smiled. To a less familiar ear, the den mother's words might have sounded condescending, but she could hear the underlying apology in Adel's voice. After spending so much time with her over the past months, she had begun to realise many things about her mentor. On a different day she might have known to hold her tongue, but, despite the prickly attitude that followed Adel around like a second shadow, she was at least willing to talk this morning.
"Why must I keep my heart closed to the alpha, then?" Netya said. "Help me understand what wisdom you see in it. There must be some, for you to have tried to keep me apart from him all this time."
Adel paused her work, tapping the pollen from the edge of her knife into the pouch. She straightened up and looked at Netya, running her hand up the side of the wolf's muzzle headdress her apprentice wore. "You have it in you to be a woman of significance, Netya."
"As a seer?"
"No. You have still yet to master your herbs, and you remain as clueless as ever about what I am trying to teach you of your visions. Yes, you may make an adequate seer one day, but that is not what I mean. It is not the colour of your hair that destines you to stand out among others, it is the strength of your spirit."
"I do not feel as if my spirit is stronger than anyone else's."
"Perhaps it is not," Adel said. "There are many women born like you and I. But how many of them ever rise as high as they are able? This pack is lenient. It allows its females to hunt, to craft, to stand alongside the males, but it does so as an indulgence, not because it truly believes we are equal to the men in such things." Her lip curled. "I have seen many girls with your potential, Netya, and one after another they are bound to men who seek to shoulder their burdens, to bless them with the gift of motherhood, and to protect them from all the harms of the world."
Netya gave her mentor a look of bemusement. "What more could a woman want? Is that not the happiness we all strive for?"
"Have you been so busy making eyes at Caspian that you have not listened to a word that man says? He at least is wise enough to understand that there is a difference between what a person is told all their life, and what they know to be true in their heart of hearts. You would know it too, if you learned to listen. If you believe a woman's happiness is so simple, why did you start taking the herbs I gave you, hmm? Why did you want to be something more than a man's concubine in the first place?"
"I think—" Netya began falteringly. "There is a difference between settling with a man when you are ready, and doing so because you feel you have no other choice."
"And yet that distinction is unclear for so many," Adel said. "You at least are sharp enough to see it, but even now you are unsure which side of it you fall on. In some other packs, women are forced to mate with whichever male stakes the strongest claim to them. This pack sees things differently, but they have not strayed as far from the old ways as they like to think. Khelt would take you as his woman, and I believe the fool might even think he was doing you a kindness. He would shelter you from the things that have made you stronger. Vaya would never dare to strike you again if you were his mate. If you ventured out on a hunt, you would have a dozen protectors by your side at all times. He would do these things to keep you safe, and you might thank him for it, but safety and comfort do not make great women. What would you be now, had a man from your village kept you safe the night Khelt and his hunters came?"
Netya looked down with a flush. She would be a girl still, not in body, but in spirit. She would be no hunter, no seer, and she would be no wiser about many of the truths she had come to realise since.
Still, it was hard for her to accept Adel's way of thinking. "I do not believe the men seek to hobble us through their protection. We are the mothers, and they are the warriors. That is the way it has always been."
"The world is not so simple. Think. See it through your seer's eyes. Many women are born to be mothers, and many men to be warriors. More still are
pushed to be what is expected of them, whether they realise it or not. Mark my words, Netya, if you give your heart to Khelt, you may trick yourself into believing you are happy, but if there is even a shred of wit within that head of yours, you will always wonder what you could have been without him."
"You make it sound like men are nothing but a weight to drag us down," Netya said dejectedly.
Adel gave her a withering look. "Not all men. Only the wrong men. The alpha is not a man of deep thoughts. He cares nothing for the ways of the seers. All he understands is the barking of the wolf inside his head. Love should strengthen us, but his love would only make you weaker. Think on that before you consider who your heart belongs to."
Netya nodded in compliance, but Adel's advice had only left her more torn than ever. It was no wonder she needed time to wrap her thoughts around such matters. Rather than making things clear to her, the year spent with the Moon People had only muddied the waters of her future even further. Every night she hoped the spirits would deliver some sign to lead her in one direction or the other, but their intrusions into her dreams remained as vague as always.
She watched her mentor scraping the pollen from a few more plants before she was allowed to assist her, using the edge of her knife to delicately mirror the den mother's actions without causing damage to the flowers. She mastered the simple task quickly, much to Adel's approval, and the pair of them continued with their work for the rest of the morning, seeking out the flowers they needed as they walked through the meadows south of the outcrop.
Adel was comfortable to carry out most of their work together in silence, speaking only to guide and advise Netya. She conveyed little through conversation, but her actions were slightly less guarded. As the den mother walked, Netya noticed her absently picking small blue flowers one at a time whenever they passed by a patch, piercing their stems with a fingernail and weaving them together into a chain that she curled around her wrist. When she noticed her apprentice looking, Adel scowled and dashed the chain from her arm, letting it fall to the ground in pieces.