by Claudia King
Contents
Author's Note
1 - The White Hunters
2 - A Man's Place
3 - Wolves of the Wild
4 - Refuge
5 - Cruel Tides
6 - A Dark Season
7 - Finding the Way
8 - Adel's Pack
9 - Alpha Miral
10 - The Place of Wolves
11 - Trial by Fire
12 - The Gathering
13 - Old Friends
14 - Caspian's Challenge
15 - A Night of Schemes
16 - Dark Magic
17 - The Ways of Witches
18 - Fern's Guidance
19 - Deep Passions
20 - Miral's Threat
21 - Yesterday's Friend
22 - A Daughter's Vengeance
23 - Homeward
24 - A Thread of the Future
25 - The Way of the Spear
26 - The Girl in the Dream
27 - Into the Mist
28 - Miral's Territory
29 - Blood for Blood
30 - Mercy
31 - Blessings and Curses
32 - Daughter of the Moon
33 - Miral's Attack
34 - Adel's Guardians
35 - Broken Spirits
36 - Fallen Friends
37 - Captive
38 - First Blood
39 - Miral's Retribution
40 - Revenant
41 - Miral's Pack
42 - The Alpha's Will
43 - Clouded Skies
44 - The Broken Blade
45 - Violet and Crimson
46 - Blood of the Sun
47 - Syr's Light
48 - One Farewell
Epilogue
Afterword
DAUGHTER OF THE MOON
Claudia King
Published by Claudia King at Smashwords
Copyright © 2016 Claudia King
Smashwords Edition, License Notes
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Proceeds from sales directly help this author to continue doing what she loves, and to share it with you the reader!
Acknowledgements
Many thanks to Ravven (http://www.ravven.com) for her wonderful work in designing the cover art for this title, to Anna for her assistance with nitpicks and proofing, the lovely folks of KBoards for providing a wealth of knowledge, advice, and assistance in all-things authorly, along with everyone else who helped to encourage me over the course of this project!
Content Warning:
This title contains depictions of sexually explicit encounters between consenting adults.
—1—
The White Hunters
In a flash of realisation—and not for the first time in her life—Netya realised that people were about to die if she stood back and did nothing. The white fur of the wolf pelt she wore twitched in the breeze, blending in with the snow-speckled brambles around her as she crouched there in silence. Fern, her pack-sister and closest friend, shifted in agitation beside her, eyes fixed on the scene that was about to unfold before them. Their younger sister, Wren, huddled in on Netya's opposite side. She hadn't moved since they first caught sight of the white hunters.
"Will those weapons of theirs pierce a wolf's hide?" Netya whispered.
"I do not know," Fern replied. "Perhaps, if they have sharpened the tips."
It was not the white hunters to whom Fern referred, but the group of Sun People gathered a short distance ahead of them, unaware of their predicament. Netya and her companions had come out to hunt for the third day in a row, knowing that birds gathered in large flocks upon the open ground in the mornings. They were easy prey for the jaws of a silent wolf, but this morning it was more than wolves that stalked them. The Sun People were not like Netya and her kind. They lacked the ability to take the shapes of wolves, and their bodies were weak and easily hurt by comparison.
Netya knew all too well the differences between the Sun People and her. She had been born one of them, after all. This particular group was not familiar to her, however. They hunted with ingenious tools that she had never before seen. Each one of them carried a long, curved piece of wood, with a tight cord strung between both ends. She had watched in fascination as they hunted the birds by knocking long wooden darts flighted with feathers into their strings, drawing them back and launching them with greater force than even the mightiest of spear throws. All morning they had struck bird after bird from the sky, bringing down several before wringing their necks and collecting up their fallen darts, then moving on to another area as the flock settled once again.
At first Netya and her companions had kept themselves hidden, waiting for the Sun People to move on and leave the hunting grounds unoccupied. Not all of the Sun People were hostile to Netya's kind, but they were in unfamiliar territory, and Adel had instructed them to avoid strangers at all costs.
Then the white hunters had appeared. They were wolves of the Moon People, Netya and Fern's kin, but they did not belong to the same pack. That, if anything, made them even more dangerous than the others. A ridge stood between the white hunters—half a dozen wolves in total—and the five Sun People bringing down their birds. Netya and her companions had spotted both groups easily from their hiding spot, and it had not been long before the white hunters also caught the scent of strangers nearby. Though their fur was the usual light brown shared by most of the Moon People, they had streaked it with what looked like ash or paint, giving them a mottled white appearance that allowed them to blend in with the patchy snow around them. They were cunning, and they moved with the grace of seasoned predators, prowling ever closer to the group of unsuspecting Sun People on the opposite side of the ridge.
"We must do something," Netya whispered. "This will not end well if we stand by and watch."
Fern gave her a pained look, clearly conflicted. "It is not our fight to involve ourselves with. You know what the den mother would say."
"It does not have to be a fight unless we wait here and do nothing. We are seers. Is it not our duty to aid those in need?"
"You may be a seer..." Fern murmured, chewing her lower lip. "Oh, Netya. Why must you make a habit of throwing yourself into such danger?"
Before they could speak of it any further, the cries of the Sun People reached their ears. The decision made for her, Netya dashed forward. She allowed the sharp niggle of her wolf to rise up in the back of her mind, surging through her body and pressing outward from her core to the tips of her fingers, changing every part of her until she was running on four legs, the wind streaking through her dark coat as her clothing twisted itself into wisps of thick fur. She did not wait to see if Fern and Wren were following her, and immediately cursed herself for not cautioning the younger of her companions to stay back where it was safe. More and more often over the past few weeks she had been allowing the impulses of her wolf to take hold before her cautious mind was able to restrain them. She only hoped Fern had the good sense to do what she had not.
Haste was of the essence. The white hunters had moved to encircle their prey, sneaking up on the Sun People until it was too late for them to run. They were still holding back, hesitating, but Netya knew it was only a matter of time before one of the wooden darts was loosed from a tense string, and the conflict plunged into a bloody fight fo
r survival.
She was grateful for the strength of her powerful canine legs, speeding her across the flat plain in a fraction of the time it would have taken her to cross the distance otherwise. The flock of birds took to the air in squawking droves all around her, scattering to the skies. They, at least, would be safe from the hunt for another day.
It was just as Netya had feared. The Sun People bellowed threats and warnings to the white hunters in their own tongue, but the wolves around them only growled back in anger. None of them spoke the same language.
Startled by the noisy flurry of birds, one of the Sun People swung around in her direction, pointing the tip of his strung dart at her and yelling for her to stop. She saw the fear in his eyes, the way the sharpened point of his weapon trembled. She forced the reasonable part of her mind back to the forefront. Her wolf receded, leaving her standing on two legs again with her palms outstretched, stumbling forward a few paces as she reeled from the suddenness of the shift. She was still unused to it.
"Hold your weapons, please!" She called out in the language of the Sun People, then looked to the white hunters and addressed them in their own tongue. "Stay your hunt, brothers and sisters! No blood has to be spilled needlessly!"
An uneasy pause followed, both groups equally confused by the appearance of the girl who seemed able to converse in two languages. One of the white hunters relinquished the shape of his wolf, throwing back a mane of long brown hair as he stepped toward her, keeping one anxious eye on the Sun People at all times.
"You know their tongue?" he barked.
"I do. Let me pass words between you rather than speaking with your teeth and claws."
"She is a beast like them!" one of the Sun People called out. "Do not trust what she says."
"If I am one of them then we outnumber you!" Netya snapped back impatiently, trying not to trip over her tongue as she swapped between one language and the other. "Would you rather listen to me, or fight?"
"What are you saying to them?" the white hunter growled. He seemed to be the leader of his pack, but he did not strike Netya as their alpha. Perhaps a high hunter. She hoped her intuition proved correct. A senior male would not be easily swayed by the words of a young girl, but he would be more inclined to listen than an alpha.
One of the other white hunters, a female with braids of animal teeth in her hair, relinquished her animal shape as well and clutched her leader's shoulder, eyes narrowed at Netya. "It is no wonder she wants to protect them," she said under her breath. "She is a sun wolf. I can smell it on her. She was not born of our kind."
Netya's heart beat faster, her pulse pounding in her ears as the eyes of the two hunting parties settled upon her. None of them trusted her. She had dashed into this brimming conflict on the impulses of her wolf without stopping to think of what might happen.
"I do not mean to deceive you," she said, trying to keep her voice steady. "I will do only as I said. There is no need for anyone to die here."
"Kill her," the female hissed to the hunt leader. "She is one of them, stealing from our land like the rest."
"She wears the garb of a seer," the leader murmured back. "What ill omens will it bring to spill her blood upon our hunting grounds?"
The female stepped back sullenly, baring her teeth in a snarl. Netya took the opportunity to address the Sun People again, motioning for the one with his weapon trained on her to lower the strung dart.
"My kin say you are trespassing upon their hunting grounds. This is their territory."
"We know not where these beasts mark their borders," one of the less agitated men replied in a steady tone. "How are we to know which land is theirs?"
Netya turned back to the leader of the hunters. "They say they did not know this territory was yours."
"Then they are ignorant as well as reckless." The male ground his teeth, shooting a dangerous glance in the direction of the Sun People. "Their kind have stolen from our land before. They have killed our brethren. They do not deserve our mercy."
Netya felt her panic rising, but a glimmer of understanding held it in check. Much of her apprenticeship as a seer had focused around cultivating the wisdom necessary to understand other people. To understand when the words they spoke differed from what they held in their hearts. If the leader of the hunters truly believed what he was saying, he would not be hesitating to exchange words with her. She sensed the apprehension in him. It was buried beneath a warrior's courage, but he feared for the lives of his companions.
"Perhaps they do not," she soothed him. "Your woman has the right of it. I was born of the Sun People myself, and I understand how they fear our kind. It was only by the mercy of a wise alpha that I was able to see with my own eyes the honour and bravery of the Moon People."
The leader hesitated, his lips moving silently as he considered the situation. Netya hoped her subtle temptation would work. It was difficult for most males of their kind to relinquish the glory of combat, but this one seemed a little older and wiser than most. She waited on his answer with bated breath. At long last, his chin dipped in a tiny nod.
Before he could speak, the Sun People raised their voices in alarm once more. The flutter of wings beat the air behind them. Netya snapped her head around to see Fern hurrying toward her in the shape of her wolf, the recently-settled flock of birds scattering once again before her.
This time there was no opportunity for words to still the weapons of the Sun People. So preoccupied had she been with soothing the hunt leader, Netya had neglected to assure the other group of her good intentions.
"More of them are coming," she heard one of the Sun People call to another amidst the clamour of raised voices. Did they assume she had been stalling them? Playing a cunning trick to buy time before tightening the noose? She would never know. They loosed a volley of darts into the small band of growling wolves, bringing two of them to the ground with yips of pain as the others charged forward.
Netya threw herself down, gravelly dirt biting into her palms beneath the snow. The dart that had been aimed at her caught in the shoulder of her wolf pelt, tugging sharply on the garment as it just barely missed breaking her skin. The Sun People clustered together in a group, some of them drawing short flint knives to fend off their attackers while the others nocked more darts to their strings. One of them went down with a cry as the claws of a wolf gashed open his leg, only to be dragged back to his feet a moment later by a pair of his companions, while a third man put a boot into the muzzle of the attacker, sending her tripping down the slope with a snarl as blood ran from her cracked nose.
The quickening rush beneath Netya's skin urged her to take the shape of her wolf, to lend her aid, but her rising panic held it in check. The Sun People had backed up before the diminished pack of white hunters could encircle them, putting the high ground and the reach of their weapons to their advantage. Realising the predicament he was in, the pack leader dashed back and let out a howl of retreat, putting his body between the Sun People and one of his fallen companions as another dart struck the ground just inches from his paws.
As quickly as it had begun, it was over. Unwilling to stay and tempt fate, the Sun People disappeared beyond the lip of the ridge they had been backing toward, and the white hunters retreated to tend their fallen companions.
Netya felt a pair of hands lifting her up when Fern reached her side, her body trembling as she clung on to her friend for support.
"Are you hurt?" the other woman said breathlessly, tugging free the dart that had caught in her clothing.
Netya shook her head, staring at the long wooden shaft that had been meant to take her life. The thin point had crumpled and broken. Clearly it had been meant for hunting birds, not people.
"You are fortunate," Fern said under her breath, giving her friend a quick hug as she tossed the dart aside. "The bow is a dangerous weapon when its arrows are tipped with flint or poison."
"Where is Wren?" Netya said, but her question was answered when she saw the young girl's scrawny wol
f dashing up behind them. The nurturing instincts she'd developed since taking Wren under her wing told her that a stern reprimand was in order, but she was hardly in any position to be giving lectures on recklessness. After giving the girl a quick nod of reassurance, she turned her attention to the white hunters.
Three wolves had been pierced by the Sun People's arrows, but the female with the bloody snout was still on her feet. One of them managed to jerk his head to the side and yank out the shaft that had caught in the nape of his neck, snarling in pain as he pawed at the bleeding area. The other two did not seem so fortunate.
Netya hurried over, holding up her palms in deference as the female suddenly reared up and barked at her.
"Let her come!" the leader, having relinquished his animal guise once more, called out. "You are a seer, are you not?"
Netya nodded.
"Then lend us your aid. Dren, fetch our belongings and give this woman what she needs." He motioned to the only other member of his group that had managed to avoid injury, and the male barked in compliance before darting back off in the direction they had come.
Netya knelt to examine the two fallen wolves. She had never treated injuries like this before, but Adel had instructed her on what to do when a body was pierced by knives or spears. Thankfully the first wolf, another female, had only taken an arrow in the fleshy area near the shoulder of her foreleg. The wound was painful enough to keep her from walking, but she seemed in no immediate danger. Netya left her to the comfort of her packmates for the time being and moved on to the next injured hunter. One arrow had caught him in the back, and a second in the side of his chest. He seemed to be having difficulty breathing, though Netya noticed there was surprisingly little blood.
"Can you help him?" the leader said, crouching down alongside her.
"I can do my best. I am only an apprentice, but I will save him if I can."
"We would have had them if not for her," the hostile female said, clutching a hand to her bloody nose as she rose up on two legs. "Sun wolf," she spat.
