CHAPTER 23
Adda peered at Scet through the corner of her eye. He sat next to her, cross legged around the blazing central fire. True dawn had cracked the horizon, though the sun did not yet crest the mountains that surrounded the camp. Above her, the trees swayed, the twisting and flipping leaves promising a windy day. She replayed Scet's words in her mind. *I have to die to do so*. She had not seen any such indication, when the shadows had guided her through the cave, but Scet and the Alpha had been farther ahead, too.
It wasn't hard to imagine such insanity, not coming from a man like the Alpha. The more she got to know about the man, the less she liked him. Logic, however, insisted that any such prophecy was nothing but a pile of monkey vomit. Maybe Adda spent too much time around Lis and her logical explanations, but no one could predict their own death, let alone that of someone thousands of years in the future. Apparently, there was some sort of inherited madness that passed along this pack.
The Shifters around them stirred, their attention focused on the Alpha who came to stand forefront before their seated spots. Many of the pack stood behind him, as well, large bundles in their arms. The Alpha surprised her, not by beginning a speech, which was what she expected, but by singing again. His voice rang clear and confident, rising and falling in a strange resemblance to a wolf's howl. Begrudgingly, she was captivated, and she recognized the words, the same songs her pack sang at times. Songs of promised commitment and honor to the pack and to one another, but she had never heard the song like this. The rest of the pack joined in singing, some rising and falling at different times. Altogether, it made a beautiful ringing melody their packs of wild brothers would be envious of. Adda was entranced, something about the melody an almost magical pull.
Beside her, a deep and distinctive voice joined the intricate rising and falling, so beautiful that she turned to stare at Scet, her jaw hanging open slightly. He stared back, capturing her as easily as if he held her physically. The smokey husk of his voice surrounded her, caressing, seducing. He sang of wanting nothing more than to be joined forever, and though the lyrics were about the pack bond, with him so near and singing to her—into her, she nearly forgot her determination to keep her distance.
Something about the moment reached inside her and touched the very depths of her soul.
Her body responded in kind, awareness rose along her skin, her breath quickened.
She wasn't the only one who noticed, either; several heads, particularly female heads, turned his direction, sighs and smiles of adoration gracing their faces. Even Kiskan was affected.
She could understand the sentiment, such a voice could indeed tempt the Dark Goddess herself. But she did not like the way they looked at him, like he didn't have an—admittedly pretend—mate. Their relationship might be a falsehood, based on a misassumption, but dammit it was *her* falsehood and it pricked her jealousy that they lusted after him so openly. Fortunately for her growing frustration, the song ended abruptly, every singer cutting off at a precise moment, leaving the air filled with the ensuing silence so that it rang just as loud in her ears.
Adda watched Scet, she couldn't help it.
As if he knew her struggles, his eyebrows raised slightly. Heat stung her cheeks and she looked away, back to the ceremony. The Alpha was speaking now, something about honor and prestige. She couldn't say exactly what, because her mind was still floating in a confusion of longing and the shocked awareness Scet had provoked.
The song itself had power, she could still feel it in the air the same way one might sense the coming of a storm, something she had never experienced with her pack. It was unfortunate that her people might have lost something so beautiful.
“I will begin the giving.”
Adda blinked to find that the Alpha had approached her while she was lost in thought. His face an unreadable mask, bands of hair fell over his shoulders and her gaze caught on one of the bones he had tied within. It looked, almost, like a finger bone, from a monkey likely, not a Shifter or human...or Dragon...she hoped.
“This is a pack that my mate made, before her death. It is the last thing that I have of her. I offer this to you to honor your presence here.”
Murmurs of appreciation echoed through the Shifters around them. The Alpha held out a well-made leather sack with wide straps and a section of intricate beading in orange and yellow.
“I cannot accept this,” Adda frowned. To do so would be to owe this man a large debt, something she was unable, and unwilling to pay.
Around her Shifters cursed, their whispers coming out in harsh barking breaths.
“Peace brothers and sisters, she is one who has lost the traditions, it is a simple misunderstanding.” The Alpha patted the air around him absently and the crowd quieted. Unease pulled at her. What had she done wrong?
“Mate of Alikeye-Baroth, to deny my gift is to deny me the honor that comes with giving it. This pack,” he fingered the material, a small sad smile playing across his otherwise immobile features, “is highly important to me, and so, by giving it, I prove that I have status enough to give something of such value. You must accept the gifts of this ceremony with grace, to do otherwise would be a grave personal insult to your benefactors.”
Adda had never heard of such a thing. The only gift-giving her pack did was at mid-winter and mating ceremonies. One might spend days making or searching for the right gift to give, but it was never something like this. She was highly uncomfortable with the entire thing, but it seemed she had no choice but to accept. She held out her hands and received the pack. It was soft and smooth, the stitches holding together the seams precise to nearly the point of perfection.
“Thank you,” she guessed at the proper response, though it didn't cover half of what she had to say. She felt a little trapped by social expectations she did not understand.
The Alpha nodded, satisfied, and reached to the side. Someone from the crowd handed him a bowl. He brought it forth, between them. It was obviously a ceremonial piece, carved from a very large bone that looked suspiciously like the skull of some animal or another. Designs covered the exterior, swirls that wrapped around geometric lines, and circular representations of faces with teeth bared. The markings were slightly creepy, but what was inside the bowl was worse. A frothing red liquid, nearly pink, with darker swirls. The scent of blood filled her nostrils and her stomach lurched with both hunger and distaste.
“It is Pritusca, the milk and blood from a nursing doe captured for such a purpose,” the Alpha explained, and then, watching her face perhaps. “It is a high honor to drink, but it is an acquired taste.”
“Yes, but why would you want to acquire it?”
The Alpha frowned slightly, apparently unimpressed with her humor, and took a sip. Watching another drink the concoction, Pritusca, did not make it any more appealing. For a moment, she had a hard time swallowing, and when he pulled the bowl from his lips, his mouth was stained red from it. How much of a dishonor would it be, she wondered, if she were to vomit in their precious ceremonial drink?
Sadly, it looked as if she would find out. The Alpha held the bowl out toward her, clearly expecting her to take part. She tried not to look inside as she took it. Pritusca was one of the dishes Nex had insisted she try. The reason made sense now. Of course a Quatori would revel in such gore.
Trying her best to ignore the reality of what she was doing, she lifted the bowl to her lips. She considered, for a moment, that she might pretend to drink, and that might satisfy her hosts. But when the edge of the bowl reached her lips, with the scent of fresh blood so near, she found herself unable to stop.
With more instinct than decision, she tipped the bowl back and let a deep swallow slide down her throat. The taste was horrible, as she knew it would be, but the hunger that had begun to claw at her stomach settled somewhat. The bowl tilted back, with the Alpha's aid. The look he sent her over the rim of the piece spoke clearly that he knew her struggle. Without a word, he handed it back to a younger Shifter at his side, an attendant of sorts. Then he rose and moved to stand before Scet.
“For you, Alikeye-Baroth, I have this.” He turned to the fire and pulled up his spear which lay next to it, returning to Scet and holding it forth, as though it were constructed of the finest gold.
Unlike the murmurs that arose when Adda's gift was given, this gift surprised the pack. The man sitting nearest her bit out a mumbled curse. Every eye was on them. In fact, all energy was focused that direction. Obviously, she was missing some significance.
So intent was the entire village that when the white-faced trembling sentry dashed from the forest to the west, no one reacted for a long moment.
“They come, straight for the village. They know where we are,” the sentry announced, his voice cracked.
A deep frown spread over the Alpha's face, and he considered his spear and then Scet seriously. Then he turned his eyes to Adda, an accusing glint in them.
“I had hoped your first days might be peaceful, Alikeye-Baroth, until you adjusted to the position.” He hesitated, and she got the impression that he was mulling over a very serious matter. In the end, he pressed the spear forward, so that Scet had no choice but to reach up for it.
“It cannot be helped,” the Alpha muttered, releasing the hardened wooden shaft. “I suggest you prepare your pack for the trouble heading this way...Alpha.”
Then the Alpha did something Adda didn't expect, not with the last of his words still swirling in a confused mess in her ears. He lowered himself, a bow almost, a show of submission. One given when the pack acknowledges a new Alpha. The surrounding Shifters did the same, each and every one of them.
Adda's gaze flew to Scet's face. A rare instance of surprise, and concern, blossomed over it, and she couldn't blame him. In one moment, Scet went from rogue to Alpha of this strange pack.