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

by Claudia King

  Caspian caught her hand as she moved to get up, murmuring sleepily as he rolled over and looked up at her with a smile of his own. "Stay a little longer. We never get to enjoy the mornings."

  "I shan't be long," she giggled, bending down to kiss him. "Meet me back at the camp. We can be all alone there, and no one else will wake till nightfall."

  He closed his eyes again, shifted with a pleasurable groan, and nodded. "If that is what my witch wishes of her guardian."

  "Oh, you—!" she began, before quickly lowering her voice. She had been so lost in her own world the previous night that she had failed to notice the numerous couples that had taken up residence all around them, several dozen of whom were now well within earshot. "I cannot tell whether I want you to call me that or not." She said with an affected pout.

  Caspian waved his hand sleepily. "Go, bathe and wash your hair so that I can make a mess of it again." He flashed her a grin, and despite her soreness she couldn't help but flush with a tingle of anticipation in response.

  She had been ready to accept the loss of the loose garments she had worn on her way to the celebration the night before, but on her way back to the river she came across them still draped where they had fallen along with Fern and Selo's. Gathering up her friends' clothing as well, she bundled the lot beneath her arm and continued on down the hill before picking her way through the path that had been cut through the thorns. The mist was thicker than ever down in the basin, and had it not been for the impassable tangles of undergrowth to her left and right she might easily have lost her way.

  Something prickled at the back of her neck, and she recalled something she had forgotten—or perhaps just kept buried—for many months. There was no need to become lost when she had the nose of her wolf to sniff out the invisible pathways travelled by her fellow kin. The thought came so naturally that it almost unsettled her in how right it felt. She had taught herself to become fearful when her wolf strayed too close to the surface, and the absence of that fear was strange. Was it still the afterglow of the previous night making everything seem wonderful? Or perhaps, at long last, she had learned to stop feeling so afraid.

  Netya took a deep breath, feeling the keenness of her senses more clearly than usual. Her wolf was so close to the surface she felt she could have changed shape within the blink of an eye, and yet still she remained calm and in control. It had been so long since she let her animal side free to think and breathe and feel for itself. Perhaps her joining with Caspian had been a healing process for more parts of her than she realised. It was just as he'd said: what else mattered when they were content in their love? Had he not run for days and nights with her on his back to save her life? Had she not felt the most dismal, aching sense of loss when she believed she would have to spend her life away from him?

  Any other problems she faced were small compared to the one she had repaired in her lover's arms. The niggle pricked at the back of her neck inquisitively, and she smiled with a slight shake of her head. She would run with the legs of her wolf again. Soon, but not yet. She still had clothes to carry, after all.

  It turned out to be fortunate that Netya found her discarded garments, for the river was cold that morning, and by the time she had bathed herself clean she was shivering. Drying herself off with one of the bundles of dried grass some considerate soul had strewn up and down the riverbank, she slipped on her simple gown and hurried back through the mist, eager for the warmth of a fire, and of Caspian.

  In her haste she almost pricked herself on a curl of thorns snaking up around the rocks at the base of the hill, and as she flinched away with a curse a shadow fell upon her out of the hazy air. The jolt of surprise almost yanked her wolf out through her skin as Alpha Miral appeared from the mist, his dark leather jerkin creaking as he snatched her up by the arm and threw her back against the trunk of the nearest tree. The bark scraped through the thin hide of her clothing, digging into Netya's skin as she gasped from the suddenness of the impact. A moment later the alpha was in front of her once more, his amber eyes devoid of the smile that lingered on his lips.

  Netya threw her hands up instinctively, expecting a blow—or worse, the slash of claws. But no blow came. Miral only stood there, his imposing frame placed firmly between her and the path back to the clearing.

  "Why do you flinch like a child, Sun Wolf?" he said.

  "You... attacked me," she struggled to respond, fear and confusion pulling her muscles stiff.

  Miral uttered a monosyllabic sound of distaste. "Is that what you think of it when I handle a woman like a woman? Look at me when I speak. You are addressed by an alpha."

  She met his gaze, trying to still the pounding of her heart as she compelled herself to lower her hands to her sides and stand up straight. She should not be afraid. Caspian would not want her to be afraid.

  Miral's expression was like stone. Netya did not believe she had ever seen anything so hard, and yet so devoid of the good cheer his smile should have conveyed.

  "I watch you and your kin. Sorceresses, perhaps." He took a step closer. "Can you conjure fire upon me? Can you open up the ground beneath my feet?" The alpha paused, letting Netya's silent answer speak for itself. "No. Because fire is strong, but fangs kill quicker. Your magic is a sapling struggling to stand strong against the forest, and eventually it will break. The others may be awed by your power, but I am not."

  Netya's breath caught in her throat. Had he learned the truth of Adel's magic? Or did he simply suspect? No, there was no way he could have learned such a thing.

  "What do you want of me?" she forced out.

  "You think you have something worth giving me?" He leaned a little closer, waiting for another answer that did not come. "No. Nothing more than any other woman, and I could have that also if I desired it. I saw you amidst the celebration last night. Your companions were bold, but you are timid. You needed your own man to take control. And you stand here looking me in the eye as if you are my equal." The alpha leaned down, lowering his face to hers, trapping her within his fierce gaze. She tried to back away, but her head knocked against the hard tree trunk. Miral gripped her by her pendant and pulled forward, the twine digging into the back of her neck until she was forced to edge closer.

  "This is what I would have you understand, Sun Wolf. Every pack has its weakness, and you are the fault in Adel's. That is why I know she has no place among us, because she counts women like you among her finest. There is no power in her, and there is no power in her followers." He glanced down at her pendant, turning it over in his hand. The grass twine began to pop and tear apart behind her neck. Rather than let it snap, she leaned closer.

  "This means something to you?" Miral said.

  "The marking means my name," she responded, her mouth dry.

  "How can a mark mean a name?"

  "It just can."

  Miral tightened his grip, and another strand of grass split loose at the back of her neck.

  "Please, don't," she said tearfully.

  The alpha shook his head, his expression falling into a mask of disappointment. "This is what you and your pack must understand." He spoke plainly, without pride or wickedness. There was only cold truth in his words. "What will you do to stop me? You trespassed within my territory. You lied. You deceived me. But now you have no tricks. Will your moon spirit come to your aid, to protect you from me?" The twine snapped in half, and Miral's hand closed around her pendant. "Will you fight me now for this trinket?" His smiled returned, though it was even darker than before. "I see your thoughts. You would tell your man. Have him challenge me for your honour. And challenge me he might. By the looks of him he is a strong warrior. He might even best me." He raised his index finger to her chest. "But you will never lay down the same challenge yourself. Because any power you might hold—any true power—lies in the hands of your men."

  Netya's eyes remained fixed on the trailing twine of her pendant. There were few belongings she possessed that were special to her, but the pendant was a symbol of wh
o she was. It had been a token of love, beautifully crafted, gifting her with the sun and moon marking that warmed her whenever she looked upon it. Along with her spear, it was a totem of her past, and her future. And clutched in Miral's hand, there was nothing she could do to take it back. The helpless anger writhing within her was something she had not felt since the night the huntress Vaya broke her spear.

  "Give it back to me, please," she said softly.

  "If you fight me for it, you will die. If you challenge my pack, my warriors will kill your men and I will take the rest of you for my own. Adel does not understand this, for she does not realise the fear she should feel. But you do, don't you?"

  She did. Miral's words chilled her to the core. The threat had always been there in the back of her mind, but now she felt the fear in all of its immediacy. To her credit, she did not bob her head in accordance with Miral's words. All she could do was stare at the trailing twine of her pendant, frozen in a terrible state of inaction that was her only recourse to the threat of the man looming over her.

  "You understand," he said, cupping her cheek and giving it a light pat. The gentleness of the touch made her skin crawl. "One way or another, the rest of your clan will also."

  With the ragged strands of twine trailing from his closed hand, Miral turned away and left her shivering up against the tree. One final, panicked urge to leap after him shot through her, spurred on by the desperation of her wolf. But the alpha's point had been proven. She remained still, helpless to stop him as he strode away into the mist, taking with him the precious pendant that had never been far from her heart.

  Just like that, he had taken away something precious to her. And there had been nothing she could do to stop it.

  —21—

  Yesterday's Friend

  "He is right, I would challenge him for it," Caspian growled, clutching Netya close as they stood together outside Adel's tent. The den mother lifted her apprentice's chin gently, resisting the sudden urge to go after Miral herself when she saw the girl's upset.

  "It is not worth doing something so foolish for the sake of a pendant," Adel responded.

  "You needn't tell me. I know what he is doing, and I would gladly see him pay for it." Caspian exhaled sharply. "But if he does, it will not be today."

  "It will not be ever," Adel snapped. "If you had heard the way Miral speaks before the other alphas you would know he is restless. He longs for any excuse, any affront to his honour that he can use to spur his pack into action."

  "If he wants to fight us why does he not just do it?" Netya asked. Adel was pleased to see that the girl had not been rendered a timid wreck by her encounter with the aggressive alpha. She was scared, but she was fighting through it. Slowly but surely, she was growing stronger.

  "I have won the respect of the other alphas now," Adel explained. "Before then, he and the others would have gladly done with us as they pleased, but it is no longer so simple. His honour would be in question if he attacked another pack of high status without reason."

  "Not that a wolf like Miral would care," Caspian said.

  "I fear you are right," Adel grimaced. "But even so, he knows how the other packs would see him. He is the kind of alpha who does as he pleases, but if he can do it without risk, he will."

  "You make it sound like he will come after us one day no matter what we do," Netya said.

  "I never doubted it. But Octavia has suffered the same for many years now, and from more foes than just Miral. Our den is still hidden from him, and we will leave this gathering with more allies than we arrived with."

  "Then we should depart soon," Caspian said. "He would be a fool not to send hunters to track us when we leave, but if we slip away without his notice we may be able to leave a cold trail."

  Adel paused to contemplate, then nodded. "The gathering will begin to break apart in a few days anyway. Many of the alphas have spoken of everything they need to." She looked to Netya. "I wish your first gathering could have been a less trying one, but this is the path we have chosen."

  The girl nodded, glancing to Caspian, and Adel was relieved to see a look of understanding pass between the two young lovers. When they returned from the celebration arm in arm she had been ready to admonish them for what she suspected they had been doing together the previous night instead of following her instructions. But Netya's state of distress and the news about Miral had set her thoughts on other things, and seeing the way the couple looked at one another now she questioned whether she might have been wrong in what she asked of them. Perhaps there had been more important things for them to do last night than to win her new allies.

  Indeed, looking at Caspian that morning she could tell there was something different about him. She had sensed it for a long time, not just in what she observed, but with the subtle instincts of her wolf resonating with his own feral side. He had been trapped by an inner struggle, one that expressed itself in those flashes of alpha dominance that had begun to occur more frequently since they left Khelt's pack. But whatever had happened at the celebration, it seemed to have helped settle the man's conflict.

  Only Wren and Ura had remained back at the camp during the celebration, but as the morning slid into afternoon and the fog began to disperse the gathering slowly stirred itself back to life. The rest of Adel's followers trickled back to the hillock, all glowing with the similar radiance that lingered on satisfied lovers. The den mother was pleased to learn that Fern had once again excelled at the task entrusted to her, and a group of packless young men were now seriously considering pledging themselves to the clan of witches rather than braving the wilds on their own. Adel was familiar with the group Fern spoke of, and while they seemed the sort of reckless males that most alphas would consider more trouble than they were worth, Adel was in no position to turn down potential hunters and warriors. If they did end up joining her, she would have to keep a close watch on them, especially around a pack of women who had been largely without male company for so long. They would not be used to following a female leader, and she had no desire to turn them into the kind of pets Octavia made of men. Hopefully Caspian would prove invaluable in that regard. He could fill the role of the alpha that such a group needed while they learned to respect their den mother's authority.

  Selo also returned with her own enthusiastic tale of love, the quiet girl becoming almost as animated as Fern as she spoke of the handsome dark warrior she had shared her evening with. Her tale, however, was not so easy for the den mother to take in stride. Not when she realised who the warrior was.

  "He could not promise his alpha would send anyone to join us," Selo explained, "but he said we would always have his respect, and that his people will be friends to us whenever they are able. I think he fears you still, when he told me his brother—"

  "What did he tell you?" Adel interrupted, her stony exterior hardening in response to the sudden twist in her stomach. She could already sense Netya listening in from nearby.

  "Not much," Selo said, wilting a little under the den mother's gaze. "He spoke of it more like a legend than anything. To his people you are the witch who lured his brother away into the spirit world. It seems both a terrifying and beautiful tale to them."

  "It is neither, and it is best forgotten." Adel prickled with discomfort, resisting the memories that threatened to pluck at her heart and steal the steadiness from her voice. "You did well, but you should pay no attention to the stories that man's clan weaves. They have no more meaning than the tales they will tell of me walking on fire after this gathering."

  "But are they true, Den Mother?" Selo plucked up the courage to ask. "Did you have a love you pulled away into the spirit world?"

  Adel narrowed her eyes, and the flash of panic that crossed the young seer's face conveyed her realisation at having pried too far.

  "Forgive me, Den Mother." She bowed her head quickly. "It is only a legend."

  "And a legend it must stay. Do not speak of this to me or anyone else again. Do you understand?"

>   "Yes, Den Mother."

  "Good. Now go with Fern and Caspian, help them find out how willing these young men are to join us."

  Selo bowed again and hurried off to join the other two. Adel watched her go, keeping her expression an impassive mask as she took several deep, steadying breaths. Her composure won out for the moment, but before long she had to slip away and lose herself in the trees at the edge of the clearing. Even when she was sure no one else was near, she could not risk letting loose the feelings that wanted to escape from her. So she took the form of her wolf, losing herself in the scents of the world until the unwelcome feelings had passed. She did not want to know what legends the dark-skinned clan told of her. For in knowing, she might be reminded of the one thing that could tear her away from the path she now walked.

  By the evening of the following day Adel could sense the gathering would soon be coming to an end. There was no ceremony in how long or how short gatherings might be, nor how often they might be held. Three years typically passed before the clans came together again, but in troubled times it was not uncommon of for the alphas to meet every summer until their differences were resolved, either peacefully or by force. In Adel's youth, there had been many such yearly gatherings.

  It was clear however that her split from Khelt's pack had been the largest source of commotion that summer, and her meetings with the other leaders since had been little more than the regular bouts of posturing and vying for status. Miral had come down particularly hard on Octavia, no doubt throwing his aggression in her direction while he decided how best to turn it on Adel. He demanded that the other female leader challenge his warriors in the open to settle the rights to the hunting grounds that fell between both their territories, to which she instantly declined. It was not land that Miral needed, for his territory was vast and lush in comparison to Octavia's. Next he voiced his intention to send scouts throughout her land, followed by the rebuttal that any scouts caught trespassing without her leave would have their skulls returned on spears.