Daughter of the Moon (The Moon People, Book Two)

by Claudia King

  "Sit down and tend to your sister, woman." The leader silenced her with a sharp glare, then turned back to Netya. "These two are with you also?" He nodded to Fern and Wren.

  "Yes," Netya replied. "We are of the same pack." She pressed a hand against the fallen wolf's side, trying to feel for the signs of laboured breathing that would indicate whether the arrows had gone in too deep. It was difficult for her to tell. She did not think she felt anything out of the ordinary, but how was she to know for sure? She had even less experience tending wolves than she did people.

  "Which pack?" the leader asked, not without a note of suspicion. "Miral's clan?"

  Netya shook her head, trying to concentrate on what she was doing. She had never heard of anyone named Miral.

  "Then whose?"

  She hesitated, suddenly aware that she needed to be very careful in what she said next. Adel had imposed upon them time and again the importance of remaining unnoticed by the other packs until they could stake their claim at the great gathering the following summer. They were a small group of mainly women and seers, and they would be easy prey to any of the more powerful clans looking to absorb them into their numbers.

  "We are from Khelt's pack," she said after a pause. It was not a lie. Not exactly.

  The leader's brow furrowed in surprise, but Netya was relieved to see a hint of apprehension creeping into his expression also. The name she had invoked was clearly one he both feared and respected.

  "Khelt of the southern plains? I have never known him and his kin to venture this far north."

  "I am with a small group of my sisters. The rest of the pack is a ways to the south still. We were forced to abandon our den when the Sun People threatened to attack some months ago."

  Once again, it was not entirely a lie. The male questioning her did not need to know that the rest of Khelt's pack were surely a great many leagues away from them by now, and likely travelling in the opposite direction. Nor that her small group of sisters had severed their ties to that pack permanently and struck out on their own.

  The leader mulled it over for a time, allowing Netya to finish her examination as he stroked his fallen comrade's ears soothingly, murmuring words of encouragement under his breath. It was not long before the one called Dren returned carrying a heavy leather sack over his shoulder and a bundle under the other arm. He offered Netya the water and bindings she needed, along with some soft herb poultices. It was more than she had been expecting, and after entrusting Fern with the task of washing and dressing the fallen female's wound, she attempted to draw the two arrows out of her own patient's body.

  She bit her lip, holding her breath as she eased the wooden shaft out of his chest. If she had made a mistake, what she was about to do might only make things worse. It took more force than she had expected, but the male held mercifully still for her, gritting his teeth through the pain as she worked the arrow free. A sigh of relief left her lips as the bloodied point slid out cleanly, without the sudden labouring of pained breath she had feared. The second arrow followed with a little more difficulty, but neither seemed to have broken or pierced anything vital.

  With the wounds free to bleed, she cleaned them out as best she could with the contents of a waterskin, before applying the poultices and binding them in place. She knew there were more advanced techniques an experienced seer would have used to ward off further infection, but the Moon People were naturally resilient against such things. She did not believe the hunter's injuries were severe enough to threaten his life.

  "What is your name?" the leader asked once she had finished.

  "Netya. And yours?"

  "Orec. Brother to Alpha Turec, and first among the hunters of his pack," he said, drawing himself up with a swell of pride. "It has been many moons since we shared a fire with the wolves of Khelt's pack, but he has never given us reason to think ill of him. I will deliver my alpha's gratitude to him personally for the aid you lent us today. Even if it ended with more blood spilled than was necessary."

  The surly female glowered at her from over his shoulder.

  "You make a kind offer," Netya replied hastily, "but it is several days journey. We... We must—"

  "What my sister means to say is that her male does not know she is out here," Fern cut in with a knowing smile, rescuing Netya from her predicament. "He would be gravely upset to learn that she put herself in such danger. You would be doing her a kindness if you saved your thanks for the pack gathering next summer."

  Netya hoped the anxious flush that rose to her cheeks made her seem embarrassed by her friend's story, rather than betraying the truth of the matter—that it was an outright lie. Fern had always been better at snatching shrewd answers out of the air than her.

  The leader chuckled. "One would think he would be proud of her courage. Ah, but I understand some males are reluctant to be outshone by the deeds of their women. Very well, I will save my thanks for the summer. Let us hope your alpha's feud with the Sun People has dimmed by then, hm?"

  "Yes," Netya breathed a sigh of relief, "let us hope so indeed.

  After scouting to make sure the Sun People were well on their way out of Alpha Turec's territory, the small hunting band set a rough camp while their wounded recovered. Orec pried for more information about Khelt and his pack, but Fern did a good job of deflecting his questions. The hunter was clearly no fool, however, and it soon became apparent that he suspected there was more to the strange trio of females than they were letting on. He seemed a man of his word, but Netya wondered what suspicious conversations might pass between him and his alpha once he returned home.

  They were able to excuse themselves from Orec's hospitality by the end of the morning, but he insisted they take half the freshly killed game the Sun People had left behind in thanks for their assistance. He bid them farewell with a guarded smile, and Fern batted her eyelashes in her usual enticing way as they said their own goodbyes. As soon as they had turned away, however, her expression darkened, and she hurried Wren and Netya along until they were out of earshot.

  "Do you think he suspects anything?" Netya said.

  "I liked him," Wren chimed in, before wrinkling her nose. "Not that woman, though."

  "The pair of you have much to learn about the other packs still," Fern said, her light and jovial tone notably absent. "He offered us the courtesy he felt honour-bound to. We are fortunate he was a senior male of such status."

  Netya glanced behind them anxiously. "Forgive me. I hope I did not do something foolish, but I could not just stand by."

  Fern let out a long breath, throwing a hand around her friend's shoulders. "You do many foolish things these days. He was kind to us because he fears Khelt's strength. Anything less would have been an insult to such a powerful pack. If he knew the truth of it, we might not have been so fortunate."

  Netya gazed down at the snowy ground as they began to thread their way back through the trees, heading in the direction of their own temporary camp. "Do you believe he will stay true to his word?"

  Fern shook her head. "I do not know, but alphas are rarely keen to indulge rival packs so close to their territory. We must tell Adel as soon as we return, and then deal with whatever punishment she has in mind for you."

  Netya shivered. Incurring the wrath of a rival pack leader was one thing, but she almost feared the judgement of her mentor more.

  —2—

  A Man's Place

  All of his life, Caspian had secretly suspected he might enjoy living among a group of so many females. He enjoyed their company. Their soothing soundness of mind. The way they cared so little for the brash challenges and rivalries of men. Many times when he was younger he had sought out the company of the seers in their secluded cave, sometimes wishing that they were the only people he ever had to deal with. His natural good looks had certainly done him no harm in such company, either.

  He had suspected he might enjoy it, and his suspicions often proved to be correct. This, however, was not one of those times.

&n
bsp; He ran a hand through his soft brown hair as the women prepared their midday meal around the fire, talking of the ebb of the seasons and the glimpses of insight the spirits had gifted them into what the coming months might hold. He missed his friend Khelt. He missed talking with the hunters. He even missed the juvenile ribbing and banter of his male companions that had often exasperated him in the past.

  Among their group of twenty, only two other men had chosen to accompany them when they split off from Khelt's pack. Rokan and Hari. They were the mates of two of the women. Reliable and honest types, both dedicated to their females. Caspian got on well enough with both of them, but they were unable to provide him with the kind of companionship he desired. He had always considered himself a voice of reason, a calming presence to soothe the hot heads of the more impulsive males around him. Now that there was no one left for him to calm, he felt at odds with himself.

  His wolf was restless, nipping at the back of his mind like an impatient pup. It had taken him many long nights of pondering, but he had finally come to realise exactly what had been causing it. The pack mentality of his wolf was something deep and instinctual. To the beast within him, the world was expected to work in a certain way, and now that things had changed he was having trouble adapting. A pack needed an alpha. A strong male to take charge. And now that everyone else was gone, who was left to take charge but him?

  He had never liked leading. He possessed the courage and wisdom for it, certainly, but not the inclination. He preferred to counsel and advise, guiding from the background rather than bearing the burdens of an alpha on his own two shoulders.

  Even so, the restless patter of his wolf's feet continued in the back of his mind, drawing that tug of primal masculinity closer to the surface day by day. It was not helped by the fact that many of the women around him had given up mates or partners to travel with Adel, and they had gone without male company between the furs for many weeks now. Some were happy to share such pleasures with their pack-sisters instead, but for most it was no substitute for the company of a man. He had noticed their enticing glances, their veiled invitations. He was, after all, the only male among them who was not yet mated. There was nothing to say he could not take one or more of them to his bed if he wished to.

  But he already had a female he desired, and he still remembered how it had made him feel to see her in the company of another man. Netya was his love, if not yet his mate, and he would not make her feel unwanted by indulging in the primal temptations of his wolf. There were times and places for them to be open in their love, and now was not one of them.

  "Miss the peace and quiet of the outcrop?" a husky female voice said behind him, and he looked over to see Briar stepping out of the trees with a large hunk of rock tucked beneath one well-toned arm. She dropped the small boulder next to him with a thud, clearing her throat noisily as she reached up to tuck a few loose locks of her chestnut hair back into the tight braid she wore coiled around the back of her head.

  "How could you tell?" he said with a smile. Unlike most of the others, Briar was not a seer, and her simple, practical attitude was a breath of fresh air among the rest of the group.

  "You're like a chunk of rock." She kicked his side lightly. "I could knap a knife out of you."

  "I am becoming Khelt," he murmured. "I used to say the same thing to him."

  Briar sat down and spat on her palms, picking up her smooth hammerstone as she began to roll her boulder around and dust off the dirt, examining it with the eye of a craftswoman. "Miss being able to tell him what to do?"

  Caspian opened his mouth to disagree, then paused, letting out a long breath. Her words would have been deeply inappropriate were Khelt still their alpha, but times had changed. "Yes. I miss many things. But what can I do? We all have new places to find now."

  "You're just upset Adel doesn't let you boss her around. Must be tough for a man, hm?"

  Caspian leaned back, giving her a knowing look as she teased. "As long as Adel continues to lead us wisely, I have no desire to stand in her way."

  Briar brought down her hammerstone against the boulder with a loud crack, making several of the others jump and shoot perplexed glances her way. The craftswoman ignored them, cracking off the cortex from around the edge of the piece of flint with a series of practised strokes.

  "You need to find some way to work out that tension," she said, then lowered her voice, becoming more serious. "Everyone looks up to you, you know. Alpha or not, you're the senior male here."

  Briar's words only served to tighten the stiffness running up Caspian's back. Worse, he felt the way his wolf seemed to perk up with a triumphant snarl at her praise.

  "Then they will have to learn to do without a senior male. Netya is the only woman whose attentions I care for."

  Briar shrugged, focusing back on her work. "You'll leave a lot of others disappointed. Though maybe that's wise. Once we start fighting over you, there'll be no stopping us."

  Caspian appreciated her cordial company, but this time it was proving to be more uncomfortable than it was worth. He disliked feeling so conflicted, and Briar was only stoking the fire inside him.

  Thankfully it was not long until Netya and her companions returned, and he took the excuse to leave Briar with her work and run to greet his woman. The way her eyes lit up when she caught sight of him soothed the simmering conflict in his heart, and as soon as she was in reach her drew her close to his broad chest, sighing with pleasure as he felt her warm breath against his neck.

  "Even a single morning is too long to go without you," he said softly, bending his neck to kiss her.

  Wren turned away with a flush. The young girl was of an age when questions of love and romance were beginning to burn hot in her mind, yet she had no boys her own age to explore them with.

  Netya kissed him back, then drew away with a palm against his chest, her expression set with a firmness he recognised all too well. She had been a timid girl when he first met her, but over the past several months under Adel's tutelage—and especially since the emergence of her inner wolf—she had grown far more confident in her desires.

  "We must speak with Adel," she said. "We met hunters of a rival pack this morning, and a group of Sun People too."

  His brow furrowed with concern. "They saw you?"

  "Yes, I spoke with them. Their leader was kind and respectful, but Fern is still worried."

  "We will tell the whole story in the den mother's tent," Fern said, motioning for them to follow.

  Netya tried to tug free of Caspian's grasp, but he held on to her a moment longer, letting the others stray out of earshot. She only resisted briefly before relenting to his hold, and it stirred something within him to sense her inner wolf rolling over in deference. A strange dance went on between their wolves whenever they were together these days. It was a subtle undercurrent to every conversation, every hunt, every time they made love. It was curious and enticing, but also ambiguous in a way only an animal's instincts could be.

  "Were you in any danger?" he said.

  She hesitated for a moment, then nodded. "I was almost wounded."

  Caspian's chest rumbled with a soft murmur of breath. "Stay close by me when we travel tomorrow."

  She nodded silently, then squeezed his hand. "Adel may be unhappy with us. Will you be there for me?"

  "Of course. Come, let us hear what she has to say." He kept his arm around her shoulders as he guided them in the direction of the den mother's tent, trying not to listen to the still-growing swell of male pride that had risen in his chest. He was not an alpha. He was not there to take charge.

  And yet, it had felt good to tell Netya to stay by him, and better still to see the submissive acquiescence in her eyes. He clenched his jaw and pushed the nagging tug of his wolf back down. He did not need to listen to those base cravings.

  * * *

  Even after many months, Netya still believed Adel was the most strikingly beautiful woman to ever grace the waking world. Ice-blue eyes painted wit
h dark charcoal, she stood taller than most men, her thick black hair spilling down her shoulders as she looked up at them from the opposite side of the fire that occupied her small tent. Both mature and young at the same time, she was the wisest, shrewdest, and most powerful woman Netya had ever known. Everything about her made others feel small and humble in her presence.

  "What?" she said sharply as the three of them entered her abode, setting aside the collection of black feathers in her lap. She had been collecting them for weeks, stopping to pick them up while travelling, or sending Netya and her sisters off with specific instructions to hunt the black-feathered birds when they were in need of food. Whatever she was doing with them, Netya suspected the den mother had her own cunning reasons.

  The three of them sat down on the opposite side of Adel's fire, Fern and Netya taking turns explaining what had happened. Caspian remained quiet, stroking his neatly trimmed stubble as he gazed into the flames. Adel did not interrupt either, but her expression darkened as the tale went on, glowering at the two young women until Netya found it difficult to meet her eyes.

  The den mother remained silent for a short while after they had finished, making them wait while she collected her thoughts. "I know of Alpha Turec," she said at last. "He leads one of the northernmost packs. Not a powerful clan, but a respected one. I did not know we had strayed so close to his territory."

  "He mentioned another alpha as well," Netya said, trying to remember the name.

  "Miral," Fern added. "Turec believed we might be from his pack."

  "Miral's clan rivals the size of Khelt's," Adel said. "He is the one who stakes claim to most of the lands this side of the mountains. If we are close to his territory also, then we must be especially careful."

  "We must move on soon," Caspian spoke up for the first time. "I remember Turec from the last gathering of the packs. He is an honourable man, but fiercely proud. He did not seem the sort to wait idly while strangers trespass in his land."