The Alpha's Concubine (Historical Shifter Romance) Read online

  Contents

  Author's Note

  1 - Netya

  2 - The Moon People

  3 - The Wounded Girl

  4 - A New World

  5 - The Alpha

  6 - The Desires of a Woman

  7 - A Hunter's Prize

  8 - Among Wolves

  9 - Fight or Flight

  10 - The Concubine

  11 - Khelt

  12 - Vaya

  13 - Friends and Enemies

  14 - Punishment

  15 - The Summer Fires

  16 - The Celebration

  17 - The Storm

  18 - Winter

  19 - Caspian

  20 - My Father's Spear

  21 - The Hunt

  22 - Revenge

  23 - Alone

  24 - Another Calling

  25 - Khelt and Adel's Tale

  26 - A Meeting of Hearts

  27 - Netya's Mentor

  28 - The Den Mother

  29 - The Apprentice

  30 - The Spirit World

  31 - A Pack Divided

  32 - Sacrifices

  33 - The Cave of Alphas

  34 - A Mother's Guidance

  35 - Betrayal

  36 - The Sun People

  37 - Adel

  38 - A Love Lost

  39 - Hunted

  40 - The Pyre

  41 - Reunion

  42 - Fires in the Night

  43 - A Final Choice

  44 - The Longest Journey

  45 - Netya's Challenge

  46 - Lost in a Storm

  47 - The Waning Sun

  Epilogue

  Daughter of the Moon Preview

  Afterword

  THE ALPHA'S CONCUBINE

  Claudia King

  Published by Claudia King at Smashwords

  Copyright © 2015 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 detailed depictions of sexually explicit encounters between consenting adults.

  —1—

  Netya

  Netya had never seen the spear that hung above the hearth in her mother's house as anything more than an ornament. That it had once been a weapon of war, used by a father she could no longer remember to fight enemies she had never seen, was just a story told by the elders around the fire. She thought Layon looked silly carrying it over his shoulder now as he walked beside her. What did they need spears for? Nothing would happen tonight. Not to them.

  Still, her mother had refused to let her stand watch over the farmlands after dark without an armed escort. Netya had no interest in watch duty. Scaring off wild animals when she could be tucked up in bed beside the fire was the last thing she wanted to volunteer for. She had only used it as an excuse to get away from the village and spend some time alone with Layon. That was an adventure she was excited to pursue.

  Ever since she had come of age the previous summer she'd begun to notice the way he looked at her, and the way her eyes were drawn to his golden hair and smiling lips as well. Being out here alone with him gave her a tingle that reminded her of sneaking out at night as a child. But this tingle was quite different. Layon made her apprehensive, excited, and curious all at once. He was a window through which she dared to glimpse all of the things that might await her as a young woman. Tantalising mysteries that had once seemed leagues away suddenly felt possible in his presence.

  "Up here," he said, pointing with the spear. "Are you sure you want to see them? They might frighten you."

  "Yes," Netya whispered, her eyes glittering as she searched the moonlit trees. "Mother never allowed us to come this way before."

  "You never went to look by yourself?"

  She shook her head, reaching out to run her fingers over the aged wooden stakes lining the side of the path. The ground sloped uphill, leading them through the trees as the moon rose overhead. Anxious winds whipped at Netya's dark hair, tugging at her braid, struggling to find a way in through the tightly-wrapped furs that clad her body.

  "My brothers took me four summers ago," Layon said with a smile. "They were just trying to scare me, but I didn't know that back then. I spent all night trying to be brave while they told stories about how the spirits of the Moon People were still there, waiting in the dark to catch us."

  "Did you believe them?"

  "I would have believed anything they told me when I was a boy." Layon shrugged. "But I have never seen a spirit hurt anyone, have you?"

  "They say you can not always see the work of the spirits."

  Layon laughed. "Then the spirits of the Moon People are no more frightening than those of our own, if they even exist at all!" He stopped abruptly and pointed again with his spear, and this time Netya was able to make out the wall bordering the farmlands in the distance. It was a short dry stone barrier, built from chunks of slate stacked together in an uneven jumble to keep out wild animals.

  "Your last chance to turn back," Layon teased, his breath tickling her ear as he leaned in close.

  She gave him an impatient shove, but the back of her neck prickled as she saw the white shapes on the wall glowing in the moonlight. This was the direction the Moon People came from when they arrived from the west, and the warnings displayed on the wall were the first things they would see. It was a clear message not to come any farther.

  "How many of them are there?" Netya whispered, trying to count the sun-bleached ornaments.

  "A dozen. They say there used to be more."

  Excitement quickened Netya's steps as she hurried ahead of Layon, her apprehension only making her more inquisitive. She could make them out clearly now. A dozen skulls, just like Layon had said, displayed proudly on the wall like trophies. Everyone knew they were here, but seeing them for the first time made the legend real. It filled her with an uncanny sense of wonder.

  She had seen animal bones before, but these were nothing like the skulls of the wolves the hunters brought back from the forest. These were much larger, their fangs huge, empty eye sockets absorbing the darkness around them. Even in death, stripped of their flesh, Netya thought they watched her with an intelligence greater than that of any animal.

  She made her way down the wall, eyes wide as she examined them one by one. Some were old, so ancient they were falling apart, while others were marked with notches from the weapons that had killed them. Her breath caught in her throat as she came to the final skull, so new that it still shone like polished stone.

  "Is this the one they talked about?" she said, still whispering. She was almost afraid to speak aloud in the presence of these mighty creatures, even if they had long ago departed from the world she knew. Surely their spirits still lingered nearby, like Layon's brothers had said. Malevolent or not, she had no desire to di
sturb them.

  "Yes," Layon said. "They caught it at the end of the winter. It's a good omen. It means the Moon People will not come again for a long time."

  Part of Netya was almost disappointed. As terrifying and dangerous as she knew the Moon People to be, now that she had seen their skulls she was desperately curious to witness what they were like in the flesh. Were they people who possessed the bodies of animals, or animals who took on the shape of people?

  She reached out with a quivering hand to touch the skull, feeling the cool, smooth contours of the bone beneath her fingertips as they traced the beast's muzzle. She could practically feel the power that had once inhabited it. The weight of its body, the hot breath snorting from its nostrils, the sharp points of fangs that could pierce flesh more easily than any spear.

  "You really aren't frightened, are you?" Layon's voice came softly in her ear. He was standing close to her again, and the strange tingle returned as she curled her fingers through his.

  "I am," she said, surprised by her own breathlessness. "In a good way."

  "You are strange."

  "I do not try to be." She let her finger trail down one of the skull's long fangs before finally withdrawing and turning to face Layon. He was looking at her curiously, with the same enticing glint in his eye that she had only caught snatches of so many times before. It drew her in, just as the wolf's skull had, calling to the part of her that longed to embrace the unknown.

  "You do not try to be, but you are," Layon said. "The other girls sometimes call you a witch."

  "I'm not a witch."

  "No, but none of them ever asked me to take them out at night to see the skulls. And I don't think I would have wanted to bring anyone else even if they did."

  Netya's body warmed. She wondered for a moment if she might be unwell, but this feeling was far more pleasant. Even holding Layon's hand felt different than it had before. She didn't think she had ever wanted to feel someone's skin against hers as much as she did in that moment.

  Their eyes remained locked for far longer than was polite, and yet still she fought the urge to look away. She wanted to keep on feeling whatever it was she was feeling. Captivated by something every bit as fascinating as the stories of the Moon People.

  Layon rested the spear up against the wall, the flint tip knocking against one of the skulls as he leaned in to touch her. The back of his fingers brushed her neck, sending a visible shiver through her body as they stroked their way down until his palm rested over her pounding heart.

  "We could stay out here all night," he murmured.

  "What would we do?" she said, her eyes finally leaving his as they became transfixed by his fingers. He stroked the braid that hung over her shoulder gently, savouring its silky touch against the pad of his thumb.

  "I can show you," he said, and moved forward until his mouth was against hers.

  Netya breathed in sharply, and when she did she tasted the exquisite rush of his warm breath filling her lungs. Her lips tingled with a thousand pinpricks of pleasure. The soft, wet heat of Layon's mouth drew her in, and without knowing what she was doing her lips and tongue were moving in rhythm with his, finding new places to settle and new touches to relish. The glow of her body increased a dozen times over, centring in a tight knot just below her navel that longed to be touched.

  Before that evening, the unknown had been something other people concerned themselves with. Now, it was hers to explore. The night that stretched before them felt like it held all the time in the world.

  When their lips parted, it was with a jolt of fear as the howl of a wolf rent the darkness.

  —2—

  The Moon People

  Layon stepped back and picked up his spear. His eyes scanned the dark trees, flitting from one patch of shadow to the next. They had no reason to fear wild wolves. The beasts would only attack if they were desperate. Netya could not recall the last time anyone had been hurt by one.

  But the skulls on the wall had not come from those wolves. Months, even years could pass between the rare occasions the Moon People ventured into their land, and yet every time they did, blood was spilled. It was the first time the howl of a wolf had frightened Netya. Neither of them needed to say a word to know what they were both thinking.

  "It's probably not," Layon whispered, but he gripped the spear with both hands and raised the point in front of him. The flint tip was old and dulled with use. Not as sharp as the fangs on the skull.

  Netya moved in close beside him, stifling a cry of alarm as she bumped into one of the grisly ornaments on the wall behind her. Its jawbone clacked, the wind whistling in her ears like the laugh of an angry spirit. Now she was afraid. Now she was ready to believe the stories Layon's brothers had told.

  He gripped her arm suddenly, his fingers digging in with a sharpness she had never felt before. Without speaking, he gently raised the tip of the spear. When her eyes finally followed it, she saw what had provoked him to grab her so tightly.

  It was far away, so dark it could have been a shadow, but it moved with the grace of something otherworldly. It wasn't the creature's size, though Netya quickly realised it was far bigger than any wolf she had ever seen, but its movements that filled her with fear. It melted into the shadows like smoke, spilled out across the grass like black water, then leaped atop the wall in a bound so smooth Netya couldn't be sure whether she had even seen it happen at all. With a lazy sweep of its hind leg the creature sent a heavy slab tumbling to the ground, before raising its muzzle to the sky and howling a second time.

  The experience was so surreal that Netya's fear couldn't help but take its leave of her for a moment as she stared in wonder at the beast. It was a childhood legend come to life. The work of the spirits, or some other powerful magic she could never hope to comprehend. She longed to watch it for just a moment longer, to see the way it moved again and hear that eerie howl erupt from its chest one more time. Her curiosity drew her toward danger, but her fear was strong enough to pull her away from it.

  As the creature shifted its position Netya realised it was looking down the length of the wall in the opposite direction to her and Layon. In a moment its head would swivel, and it would see them standing in the moonlight just as clearly as they saw it.

  "Behind the wall," she whispered, so softly and so fast it was barely a hiss. "In the shadows."

  Without waiting for Layon to let go of her arm she pushed her foot into a crack between the stones and hauled herself up alongside the skulls, wobbling on top of the wall as she bent to help her friend up after her. Had the beast looked yet? Had it seen them? Her heart beat so hard it stole her breath away. Layon clambered up alongside her, tossing his spear into the grass on the other side as they toppled over the wall in a heap together.

  A dull pain shot through Netya's body as she landed hard on her hip, but she dared not cry out. Layon landed almost on top of her, the weight of his body pressing uncomfortably against her back for a moment before they scrambled to extricate themselves from one another. A loose piece of slate they had kicked free in their clumsy ascent thudded into the grass on the other side of the wall. It was barely louder than the sound of the wind in the trees, but it made Netya's heart jump in her chest.

  Layon grabbed the spear with one hand while tugging her back against the wall with the other. They hunkered down together, the dampness of the grass seeping into their fur clothing as they pressed themselves into the tiny patch of shadow, letting the darkness swallow them up.

  For a few moments they were alone with the sounds of their quickening breath. The beast was obscured from sight by the angle of the wall. All they could do was wait, the hard shaft of the spear pressing against Netya's breast as Layon held it close.

  In a flutter of shadows, the beast hopped down on their side of the wall. It looked their way, yellow eyes shining like the stars above, but it had nothing to see but blackness. It moved again with such sleek grace that Netya found herself captivated by the wolf's movements once more. It ha
d looked like a creature made of water and shadows when she first glimpsed it, but now she could see powerful legs and a swishing tail as it crept across the field, eyes set on the enclosure of wood and leather in the distance where the livestock were kept.

  This creature was like nothing she had ever seen before, but it was no spirit. It was hungry, just like any other earthly being, and it prowled on the legs of a wild animal guided by the grace of a dancer. It was one of the Moon People.

  The slates on the wall clacked as another wolf mounted the barrier and jumped down into the field behind the first. A third followed, and then a fourth.

  "We have to get the others," Layon breathed into her ear.

  Netya nodded, unable to tear her eyes away from the procession of shadowy hunters making their way across the field. It took a tug on her shoulder to finally make her follow after Layon, crawling on all fours along the strip of shadow at the base of the wall in the opposite direction to the wolves. They moved at an agonisingly slow pace, barely daring to let their bodies brush through the damp grass as it wet their palms and knees. They had only just cleared the stretch of wall ornamented by the skulls when the shape of another hulking wolf dropped down directly in front of them.

  Netya froze, swallowing a cry of shock. The beast was so close that even the shadows wouldn't hide them if it chanced to look their way. Layon was ahead of her, rising slowly into a crouch, the spear clutched in both hands.

  Panic erupted in Netya's chest as she realised what he was about to do. She couldn't tell him to stop. Even a whisper would alert the wolf. It all happened within the space of a few seconds. The wolf's paws hit the grass, Layon drew back his spear to lunge, and Netya, in her desperation, reached out to try and stop him. She wasn't sure what made her do it. Perhaps it was fear: for Layon, for herself, or even for the majestic beast standing before them. She had never seen real violence before, nor did she want to. The thought of what had happened to the creatures whose skulls now adorned the wall suddenly hit her with nauseating force.