by Lily Thomas
Now that Aiyre was out of direct danger, she thought back to what had happened. The attack seemed unprovoked in her mind. Had the sabertooth hunting party seen the pronghorn hunters and reported back? She had no idea. Although this attack could have been planned a long time ago.
A shiver rocked through her, and she scooted closer to the flames of the fire.
All the men in her clan were probably lying dead in their village. There was no way they’d won that fight. They’d been taken by surprise and outnumbered. Her heart felt like it would burst from her chest with her heartache. It had been just last night that everyone had been joking and laughing around the village fire. Ezi had just accepted a claim from Drakk, and life had seemed almost perfect.
Maybe she should have said yes to Girk’s proposal. He might’ve died thinking she could care less about him. He was a good friend and a great hunter, and she should’ve been honored to be his.
Aiyre knew she shouldn’t feel any guilt, but she couldn’t help the way it was eating her from the inside out. Girk had deserved better, but it wasn’t like she’d known their lives would be cut so short.
She just hadn’t thought about him as any more than a friend and needed some time to think on it. Aiyre just hadn’t realized how little time she’d have to think on his proposal. But it didn’t matter, because he’d probably been killed. The image of him with his leg caught in the saber’s mouth still wounded her deeply.
This hunting cave was well known in her clan. Hopefully, that meant any survivors from her clan would gather here, assuming they were in their right mind and not running around aimlessly in fright or lost in the dark night.
For now, she’d try to get some rest, and just tend to the fire through the night, and hope she didn’t attract too much attention.
The frigid morning brought nothing but disappointment for Aiyre. No one had shown up during the long hours of the night. Had no one survived or were they too scared to come back to any areas they were familiar with? She dearly hoped it wasn’t the first reason.
Bundling up the furs around her Aiyre stoked the fire with a stick and threw on a few more chunks of wood. Sparks flew in every direction, and the flames leaped in excitement at the new tinder to burn.
She had to travel back to the village and see if anyone survived. If not, she’d salvage what she could and figure out what to do after that. At this moment, she had to start thinking about her survival. She was alone, and she’d never faced a more uncertain future.
There was the strong possibility there’d still be sabertooths prowling around the area, but she would just have to risk it. This cave had enough to keep her alive for a few days, so she’d need to get more supplies from the village.
Shoving her animal skin gloves over her hands, she threw off the furs and grabbed her spear as she headed out into the snow-covered world she called home every day. She trudged through the thick layer of snow. She passed through the forest with ease and without any sabertooth sightings.
The only companion on her journey were the creaking of the tree boughs as they strained under the weight of all the snow they’d received. Every once in a while a branch would snap under the weight and Aiyre would jump out of her skin, spinning around to double check she wasn’t about to be pounced on by a sabertooth. If she hadn’t seen so much death and gore last night, she would’ve enjoyed the peaceful walk more, but all it was doing was putting strain on her frayed nerves.
Once she reached the edge of the forest, she watched her village from behind a tree trunk. Any sign of movement and she would turn tail and bolt.
Nothing moved as she continued to watch the area intently, her eyes continuously skimming over the village. Sucking in a steadying breath, she decided it was time for her to get her feet moving and see what was left of her life.
It took her no time to reach the village. The moment Aiyre was greeted by the sight of her village her shoulders drooped, and she felt an emptiness enter her chest. There were very few dead sabertooth shifters, but a lot of her dead clanmates littered the ground. Bodies were strewn all over the place.
Tears filled her eyes as she searched for familiar faces and stumbled upon Bhirk’s familiar form. Rushing over she dropped her spear and flung herself onto the ground beside his body. Her gloved hands shook, but she continued to reach out, took hold of his shoulders, and flipped him over.
“Bhirk!” The cry tore out of her throat, as she choked back a sob. One of the sabertooths had ripped out his throat. She felt like she heard his deep voice trying to soothe her hysteria, but she couldn’t stop the tears from pouring out.
Glancing around through the tears she saw Drakk’s lifeless form entangled with a dead sabertooth shifter. She walked over and pushed the unknown man’s body off of Drakk.
“I’ll find Ezi for you. If she’s alive, I will see to her safety. You have my promise.” Aiyre placed a hand against his frozen cheek. His face gone blue from the cold.
She hated to leave them where they’d fallen, but she couldn’t do anything about it. There were too many bodies for her to move on her own. A proper burial would have to wait… if it happened at all.
Several minutes of stumbling around the village passed before she wandered upon Naru’s lifeless body. It was no surprise that she hadn’t made it far with her age and inability to shift, but it didn’t make the loss any less painful.
Aiyre knelt down by Naru’s body. She took one of her stiff hands into her own. “Thank you for everything. I’m sorry I couldn’t have done more for you after everything you gave to me.”
She swallowed the lump in her throat. She was afraid she wouldn’t be able to let go of Naru’s hand if she held on for too long, so she released the hand that had reassured her so much. Aiyre let Naru’s hand slip from hers.
There were some bodies she had yet to find, like Girk and Ezi, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t have been killed further away from camp while fleeing.
Aiyre was still alive, and she had to keep living. Digging through the camp for supplies, she did her best to ignore all the sightless eyes watching her every move. Chills spread down her spine when she came across a little girl. The same girl she’d done her best to save last night.
Were the sabertooth shifters born without a heart? To kill a little girl over nothing more than their leader and his inability to sit down and talk with her clan. She was sure this could have been solved without so much bloodshed.
Pulling her fur coat closer around her body, she grabbed the bag of supplies and continued around the camp looking for any more weapons she could stash back at the cave. There was no telling how long she might be on her own, and she needed to prepare herself for the worst.
Chapter 3
Daerk crept deeper into the forest, his golden cat eyes picking up on the slightest movement in the snow-covered trees around him. He intended to bring back something for his clan to eat if it was the last thing he did. He’d already been gone for a few days because deep winter was coming and prey was becoming a bit on the scarce side.
Their leader, Brog, thought killing off the pronghorn shifters would fix their problem, but Daerk knew better. This was a matter of it just being a scarce year, nothing more. They had a large clan and a lot of mouths to feed, and it didn’t help that Brog was quick to demand the most meat from each kill for his own hut. Brog had taken several wives and had too many children to count and was overstretching the winter supplies.
Now Daerk was left to hunt on his own and sneak meat to members of the clan that needed it more than their selfish leader. If Brog wasn’t careful, he’d have a revolt on his hands. Daerk would lead it if he knew people would follow him. Unfortunately, Brog led his people with fear, so he wasn’t too sure others would join an overthrow of their ill-tempered leader. Not unless he did something really heinous.
Freezing, he let his tan furry ears twitch back and forth. Hunting in his sabertooth form had always been his preference. His hearing and eyesight were far better, and he didn’t n
eed to bother with cumbersome clothing or weapons. His sabertooth form came equipped with everything he could possibly need.
The crunch of snow caught his attention, and he spun around to see two of his clanmates tearing through the trees at high speed. He recognized their scents to be that of his two closest friends, Tor and Rir.
Both of them stopped in front of him huffing and puffing. They seemed agitated, but he couldn’t ask them what was going on without changing into his human form since communication in their sabertooth forms was limited.
He led them back to where he’d placed his clothing and weapons. He wasn’t about to change into his human form without his clothing nearby when the air was frigid, and snow coated the ground. Hunting would just have to wait.
Daerk shifted out of his sabertooth form, and the winter air prickled his skin. He rushed to throw on his fur clothing, threw the hood over his head, and some gloves onto his hands.
“What brings you all the way out here?” Daerk asked with a growl irritated at the interruption in his hunt when he hadn’t found anything.
“Don’t be angry at us.” Rir held up his hands as he shifted and began vigorously rubbing his hands over his arms.
“You interrupted my hunt. Why shouldn’t I be irritated?” He glowered at the two men standing in front of him.
Tor spoke up after he shifted. “While you were out hunting, Brog led an attack against the pronghorn clan.”
“What?!” Daerk strode towards Tor ready to smash his fist into something, but Rir stepped into his path.
“It wasn’t our decision to attack the pronghorns.” He held his hands up in the air. “Don’t take your anger out on us.”
“Did you go?” Daerk hoped his friends wouldn’t have participated in such a heinous act.
Rir shook his head, his long brown hair swaying with the motion. “We came to find you, once Brog left with his men. We have no idea how the attack went... or if any pronghorns survived.” Rir continued to rub his hands over his exposed skin.
“Not well for the pronghorns.” Tor guessed. “How could they have any chance against our numbers and skill. In our animal forms, we would dominate them easily.” He shivered in the cold air, looking like he wanted to change back into his sabertooth form.
“They weren’t our problem.” Daerk grumped. “Killing them will gain us nothing but a reputation by the time the next clan gathering happens in spring.”
Every spring, all the clans in the nearby area would gather together and trade. They’d also celebrate another year of surviving the cold of winter.
“Brog only wanted a battle, whether or not the pronghorns are our problem.” Tor shook his head and scrubbed a hand down his beard. “We all know he’s been waiting until the clan was desperate enough to believe his lies. But it couldn’t have been a fair fight for the pronghorns.”
“Did any other hunters stay behind?” Daerk wanted to know how many men sided with him on this subject. If he ever decided to take control from Brog, he needed to make sure he had the numbers on his side. Otherwise, he’d be torn to shreds.
“Brog only took a select group of hunters with him. You might have some willing to back you, but just because they stayed behind doesn’t mean they want to overthrow Brog.”
They had several female hunters who would definitely be an asset should they be needed, but could he convince them to join the cause? Only time would tell he supposed.
“Are you thinking of challenging Brog?” Rir asked intrigued, a slow smile spreading across his face.
“I’ve thought about it.” It sounded appealing, and Daerk was considered the best hunter in the clan. If anyone was going to challenge, he supposed it would be him. “I’m just worried I might not be the best to lead us or that no one will support my leadership.”
Brog had plenty of supporters who were just as bloodthirsty as their leader. If he lost the challenge, he wouldn’t just be banished. He’d be ripped to pieces.
“We believe in you,” Rir said as his teeth clinked together from the persistent cold.
Daerk frowned at him. “You two aren’t the whole clan. I need to know how they feel before I make a move and find myself banished from the clan.” Or worse.
“I doubt that would ever happen.” Tor frowned as he shook his head. “You’ve been feeding them, ever since we realized our meat hut wouldn’t last us all winter.”
Tor was right. The clan wasn’t about to throw him out when he was the only one interested in keeping them alive.
“Head back and act as though I’m still hunting. I’ll go check on the pronghorn clan to see if there are any survivors.” He didn’t need Brog breathing down his neck, because Brog wasn’t foolish, he knew Daerk wouldn’t condone his actions.
It was time their clan moved on from this area and found better hunting grounds. The mammoth migrations had changed, so they couldn’t stay here and expect to live the same life. Killing the pronghorn shifters wouldn’t bring prey back to their land. It would only make them monsters.
Daerk quickly shed his clothing and shifted back into his sabertooth form. His face elongated, fur sprouted from his skin, and his fingernails extended into long curved claws.
The distance to the pronghorn village would be covered quicker in his animal form than in his human form. In some ways, he’d prefer to stay in this sabertooth form all the time, but his human side demanded to be seen every now and then.
There was still the possibility that Brog hadn’t gone through with the attack. Tor and Rir hadn’t been back to the clan since Brog left to attack the pronghorn clan. Daerk could only hope Brog hadn’t gone through with it, and that it had only been a bunch of bluster.
Sprinting off in the direction of the nearby pronghorn clan, his large paws allowed him to glide over the snow with minimal effort. He just wished he could enjoy the air whipping past his fur coat, but he dreaded what he might see when he arrived at the pronghorn clan.
It didn’t take him long to reach a cliff overlooking the pronghorn clan’s village. He sucked in a deep breath, preparing himself for what he might see.
As he popped over the edge of the cliff, his heart dropped. Brog had seen through on his threat. Daerk hoped it’d been bluster, but here was the proof in front of him that it wasn’t. There were barely any huts standing, and bodies dotted the pristine landscape of snow.
A few furs flapped uselessly in the wind, but it was the only movement he picked up on. It was a shame. He hadn’t known any of the shifters in this village, but the loss of life for no reason just appalled him.
With one last look at the decimated village, he turned to leave. Another movement in the village caught his attention, and he focused in on it. His cat eyes zoomed in on the area below him. At first, he wondered if he’d just seen a fur waving in the wind, or if he’d truly seen someone.
Then he saw a shadow moving near the trees of the forest.
Someone was alive down there!
As he sniffed the wind, Daerk picked up the scent of a pronghorn woman somewhere below him. He watched on as the shadow crept out of the forest, and the woman walked hesitantly through the destroyed village, collecting items and mourning over her dead.
Was she the only survivor or where there more walking about in the area?
A growl rumbled up his throat, and an itch started under his skin. As the woman bent over to grab something off the ground, his eyes fixated on her shapely behind. Even under all those furs and from this distance, he could tell she had some curves to her body.
Every time the wind shifted and brought her scent wafting towards him, he felt his cock stir. It was an addictive scent that drew him in, yet he resisted the urge to make any movements. A pronghorn shifter wouldn’t welcome him after the attack on her people by sabertooth shifters.
Sensing his presence, she turned and her hazel eyes collided with his. She froze in mid-reach, and then took a defensive stance. She was a pronghorn with spirit that was for sure. Both of her forms would be nothing compared
to him, yet there she was acting tough.
She had nothing to fear from him though.
Daerk decided it was time to leave. There was no reason to make her panic even more. He turned and left the area, leaving her to her own devices. She had enough to worry about without him freaking her out even more.
When Aiyre felt eyes boring into her back, she’d swiveled around to spot a sabertooth watching her from a hill. There was too much distance for her to know if it was a shifter or just a wild animal looking for an easy meal.
Their eyes collided. It’s golden cat eyes skimmed over her, and shivers flew down her spine causing the fine hairs over her skin to stand on end. Would it attack? Or would it just pass by?
It turned around, and she watched as it disappeared over the crest of the hill. Once it left her sight, she decided it was time to get out of the village. She’d gathered as many supplies as she would be able to carry, and she didn’t want to test her luck with the gods. Predators were sure to sniff down all the blood and death, and she wouldn’t want to be in the village when the predators came looking for an easy meal.
Heading out, Aiyre made sure to take a long, convoluted path back to the cave. If that had been a sabertooth shifter, she didn’t need him following her back to her cave. She still found it unbelievable that they’d been attacked. It all just felt like a horrible dream.
She would never be able to get that night of screaming and blood out of her mind.
As Aiyre approached the hunting cave, loneliness settled in her chest once more. Aiyre wished someone else from her clan would join her, but when she peeled back the fur cover, the cave was still empty. Hefting the supplies onto the floor of the cave, she prepared herself for a lonely day.
Grabbing hold of some firewood, she placed them inside the fire pit, knelt beside it, and began to blow on the hot coals, until the tinder caught fire. Backing away, she sat back on her bottom and watched the fire catch the larger logs.
