The trees are remembering to be green again.

Sunlight filters through the translucent curtains of the silk on my face.

Warm

Golden

Welcomed

"You are gifted." The Savage's voice is behind my right ear. His eyesight is on my fingers that are weaving the wool into pictures.

Warmth spreads upwards from fingertips to elbows; it slowly slides past my biceps to lick at my shoulders.

The heat descends.

Cupping the rise of my chest, feeling my torso past my rib line until it holds itself firmly against my lower abdomen.

Pushing the heat inside me, filling me with the pressure of him.

He's close, too close for me to breathe correctly. Even if he's standing in the doorway at the entrance of the house.

Inhale, pulling the veil of Silk tight to my lips.

"Do you need anything?"

Exhale, pushing the Silk away from my lips.

There is no answer for him during the day. I think he understands this now - that my voice is silent for his ears, just like my face is hidden from his eyes.

In the dark it's different, it's a grey world we enter when there are no lights.

"My father said that you should start back with your training. Do you feel ready?" A pause in his voice.

My fingers still...no movement.

A nod of my head, yes.

No words.

"I'll walk with you there." Standing, I grab the simple loom in my hands. He holds the front door open for me to step inside. He won't step outside, but he will stand there on the threshold just on the verge of stepping out into the sun.

Every time he holds that door open for me, he suffers internally. I can feel how his body tenses, how his gut feels sick. When he threw up the first few times just opening the door, I watched him, and we both had tears in our eyes.

He just couldn't see mine.

"I've made a dish to bring." His voice holds a tremble as I walk by.

My heart pounds.

Putting the Loom away, black fabric sits on my bed. On top of it sits a small flower, its petals are a delicate blue.

Picking it up by the stem, it's the first flower I have seen in this ice hardened land.

"It's the first flower of the season." He brings his heartbeat closer to mine.

The resolve is never to have my inner thighs tremble again, but I lose the battle whenever that beat of his heart draws too close to me.

"My mother gave me extra fabric that she didn't need. Your dresses are too beautiful to be ruined as they have been." The rise and fall of his bare chest catch my eyes.

The warmth is back pressing itself deep inside me.

His heartbeat draws closer.

Trembling without control, his nose brushes against the Silk covering my face before his fingers take the edges.

Desire is rising.

I gasp softly; he hears because he tries to catch the sound with his open mouth.

"You smell of salt." His face falls, not that he ever wears a smile. A slump of his shoulders. The edge of Silk settles back in its spot.

His heartbeat pulls away.

We leave out the back door, the path is brighter, greener, with the singing of birds that have arrived several weeks ago.

"When the strongest comes for you, break her right wrist. Then go for her toes again. Nothing hurts more than having to walk on broken big toes. When tomorrow comes, break her left wrist, always hobble her. Always leave her limping away. Always make her understand who she is fighting against." His sound is rugged, raw, male.

We are side by side, walking quietly on the path after his speech. Only my feet are heard, he makes no sound with each of his steps.

His advice does not fall on ears that don't listen to good advice.

Our arrival inside is met by hushed whispers; the three teachers stand up from their chairs.

The Savage hands me the dish.

Our fingers touch.

Skin against skin

The first touch since what happened, since I found out, he can only touch me the way she wanted to be touched, the way she showed him how to touch me.

Pulling myself away, setting the dish on the table with the rest.

"Bessa, it's good to have you back." Luna Valda speaks while pressing her cheek against the Silk of my face.

"You need to take that off if you are to train." His mother is in front of me when I turn around. She's there pointing at my veil.

My sanctuary.

He waits...

Pulling the veil off my head, the Savage stagers until his back touches the wall. His sight bores into the sensitive flesh of my cheeks, my mouth, eyes, they linger on my hair that's growing out. His loitering gaze sticks to the hollow of my throat, canines descend from his mouth. The cocoon of skin is cracking, flexing along his line of bones.

My inner thighs threaten to stumble me with the way they shake.

He's overwhelming at this moment.

I quiver, he shakes.

When I hand him my coverings, he grabs my wrist over Silk. Without hesitation, he pulls me flush against his body.

My feet leave the ground.

Cheek against cheek.

"Fight well," tender teeth of his Wild nibble the skin just behind my ear before he pulls his Nature away from my flesh.

When my feet hit the ground, I wobble.

His entire body seems to shift off his spine before realigning again.

"Bessa," The four teachers bow to me.

"There is only suppose to be three." The Savage walks to his mother.

"We have four teachers that are willing to teach." Luna Valda does not hide the irritation that radiates outward.

"You shouldn't be here, this is female training." His mother tells him, and I look around realizing no other male is in the room, just him.

"It doesn't seem fair," the female with the two black braids ays, standing her ground, and everyone around her takes a step away.

"Then you stand with Bessa. I've just made it fair." The Luna takes a plate from the table, filling it before sitting down where the teachers just were.

Eyes maul into mine.

"Bessa, from across the sea, would you like to come over for dinner in a few days. My mate just made a good kill." The black braided female doesn't look at me, she is posturing her intent to the fourth teacher. She's younger, just a few years older than me.

"I would like that." Speaking low.

"She's mine, Bessa. She won't touch you today." The female rises up, her full height has been completed several years before this day. Her shoulders pull back, her head straightens. The smile with teeth is taunting. I mimic her, showing my taunt, my posture towards the other three.

Violence is all that is heard inside the structure.

The three teachers rush in as soon as I flash teeth.

All three of them swam, trying to roll me to the ground. The first big toe breaks with the teacher's grunt of pain. She stumbles, a hit to my ribs cracks the bones, I hobble the teacher with the other break of her big toe.

Balance is off...

Her wrist is in view, I take a hit to the hinge of a jaw...bone cracks, breaks, along with her wrist. A thought flutters in, I'm still making a full plate of food home even if I can't eat right away.

The smell of blood surrounds us.

Bruised flesh...broken bones we keep fighting. It feels good to hit something, to fight something, to not be silent anymore.

True to her word the female with the two black braids handles the teacher enough to have me only face the three.

When I fall to the ground she's already there, her tooth has been knocked out. The two remaining teachers are untouched, but the third teacher can't stand on her own, she just sits on the ground with a hard look on her face.

The fourth teacher is also on the ground, her tooth knocked out too.

"By themselves they are nothing, remember that, Bessa. They are nothing by themselves that's why they attack in a pack." The female spits the words out loud along with her blood. The insult earns a kick to her ribs by the closest teacher that's standing up.

"I will gladly fight you every day by myself." The teacher says back to the female.

"I've trained with Victoria future Alpha of the East. You don't scare me." That earns a punch to her mouth, it grinds bone against bone.

"I hate them." She says quieter now, muffled and swollen.

"What's your name?" Looking at the female, her eye is swelled shut, distorted in a beautiful face.

"Orva, from the East, but my mother was born on this land." The way she says, from the East, seems like the way I repeat to myself where I have come from. It's so we don't forget where we were born, who we once were.

I'm afraid to forget my Heritage.

"Bessa, can you stand?" The Savage's face comes into view. I nod yes, my body says no.

He waits...

It comes after a few pep talks to myself, just move my mind says, my body laughs, hard.

"You did well, Bessa." The Savage's voice raises the hair on the back of my neck. His breath touches skin that runs along my neckline where Silk stops and flesh begins.

After taking the food, I go to leave.

"Orva, what do you think you're doing?" The fourth teacher says through a jaw that feels like mine.

"You still need to train with the others, you aren't special enough to eat yet." She limps to take the point in front of the other females who look terrified now.

"Filth," whispered from the larger group of females.

They are outnumbered, Orva cries out when she tries to put her ankle down, but she doesn't move from the front of the group.

Handing the Savage my plate I take a stance in front of the other females. Orva on my left.

"Why is this group hated so much?" Asking this low. Orva looks over her shoulders to the group of females.

"Finian, they have all held him inside them." The way she says Finian rolls off her tongue as wasted air in her mouth.

"He's had them all?" It must be lies.

"He's taking every un-mated females Virtue away in the West, East, the North." There is disgust that sloshes around in the tone of her.

"Why would he do that?"

"Because he hates his mate, Victoria. She slept with his twin brother, now he sleeps with all females. He actually fills them up before they come here. No matter how much they wash, you can still smell the Alpha on them." Orva's voice is steadying itself, a calm is focused out.

Looking again at the females behind me, in shock. This side of the world sodomizes the Moon's words.

"Did you sleep with Finian?" she laughs. "Not with Finian." The rush of bodies stumble us backward, and when it's done, the Savage has to carry me to the house, while I let the plate of food rest in the lap.

It takes longer to get home, his walk is slow, unhurried, without a need to get to where we are going quickly.

My veil remains off, he has washed it and has it hanging by the wood stove drying when I come out of the shower, limping. He's gotten the blood out of the dress, but the tears will be there always.

He's only wearing a pair of pant's that barely sit on his hips. He hasn't gained all the weight back he lost during the winter. My eyes travel of his torso, searching for the hairline that looks soft, and sparse.

He's not like our males from the Dunes, not as much body hair and in a way, I like that.

The plate drops to the floor, shattering one of the new dishes that he had made for us from the potter. He had the Singer of the Moon draw a Pomegranate tree before the clay was fired in the kiln. They turned out better than the weave of my Silk holds. He had them one day as a surprise for dinner, after the new table was built.

They look beautiful, but I never told him;

Did he want me to say something? If he wanted me to say anything he hid it well.

Bending down he picks up the broken pieces of the plate to throw them out in the garbage.

My jaw feels better to eat, and I do that. Grabbing my plate from the table, he set it up nice, he always sets things up nicely. I just can't sit somewhere that I don't feel comfortable sitting. Taking my meal to my bed, I sit with my back to him, eating looking out the window.

Silence.

The sun sinks and within the Savage, there seems to be a sinking feeling as well.

Once my food is done, I take the Loom to busy my hands.

He sits at the table alone.

Eating slowly, his head down.

Quiet.

The flower is by the window.

Wilting.

"Did you pick her flowers too?" There is no movement in my chest, waiting for the answer.

"No." The chair slides out from his spot, to be pushed back in again.

"Why?" Breathing out the word.

"I never felt like bringing her a flower. It's not something I ever thought to do before. Your dresses have a lot of flowers on them so I just thought you would like to see some of the flowers our land holds." He walks outside, letting the back door shut behind him.

My heart refuses to believe this is a truth.

The blade of the ax starts to go through wood, he doesn't come in until it's almost entirely dark. Loading the fire, I'm already in bed with my eyes closed, pretending.

His zipper comes down, a sense of movement on the floorboards as they shift with each foot while he pulls off his pants.

Naked.

I inhale the scent of him as it drifts without hinderance around the room, clinging to my skin.

The shower turns on; the door remains open, candle glowing, the silhouette of his body is there, visible as he washes.

My resolve has left.

Shaking inner thighs has my hand feeling the Silk of my body.

A hunger is rising.

Sighing out, hidden by the fall of water splashing against his body.

Needs surface, a craving starts.

Closing my eyes wishing it was his hands on me, his finger now sliding up and down the Silk covering my body.

"Mmmm," making sure my voice is too low for him to hear.

I'm losing myself to my own desires.

My throat holds the beat of my heart, fast and irregular.

A harsh breath out.

The water turns off.

Turning on my stomach I hide my hand. The Silks bunched up underneath me.

Involuntarily I rock myself subtly. It feels good, I only stop when he comes out of the shower.

Watching this time, he dries himself by candlelight.

Warmth spreads and melts me.

My eyes don't pull away as a growth of desire hardens his body.

"Bessa, what are you doing?" He blows out the candle and in the dark, this seems to be alright.

He brings the beat of his heart closer to me.

Feet groan the wood floor shifting his sound outwards.

Closer, he comes and I hold my breath while he inhales only to have a long slow groaning exhaled out.

The darkness blankets us.

"What were you doing?" His voice so close, he kneels by the bed, not touching just there.

"I was having a weak moment, it will pass." It comes out softer than usual.

Silence, the smell of me is now taking over the inside of the house.

I'm trying to steady my breath as his climbs to meet mine.

"It's not weakness, Bessa."

"To me it is."

The smell of drying water on his body is declining while the smell of something else rises.

His scent deepening, filling my lungs. I moan into the pillow that he made me full of goose feathers he caught just so I had something to lay my head down on.

An urgency starting.

My mouth opens licking my lips, his breathing growing fuller, deeper... a growl shifts the air around stirring up our scents, mixing them.

I weaken more.

"Can I lay with you? I'll only hold you." The sound of him seems as if it wants more than holding to be part of this night.

In the dark, that doesn't seem so bad, but I know better.

"No, don't touch me." Saying it quickly before I have time to think about changing my mind.

My hands are numb, all my blood has gone to other areas, creating a heaviness that I never knew existed.

Shutting my eyes, trying to fight the rising hunger.

I'm thinking of him now, thinking how good it will feel for him to hold me.

"I can't stand this," jumping up from the bed. Lifting the Silk off my sensitive skin. Walking in the veil of complete darkness. Closing the bathroom door. Taking a cold shower, as cold as the water will get.

Constriction of blood.

Right before I get out, "leave the water on." His voice startles me and I flinch.

The darkness covers us, nothing can be seen.

I step out, he steps in.

This time he lays down in his spot while I lay in mine quiet but not sleeping.

Complete darkness.

"We will be leaving for the summer grounds soon." He talks as if I didn't have a lapse in weakness.

I'm still trying to fight the good fight and keep my hands away from the apex of my thighs.

"Will you be leading?" Remember the conversation he and his father had at the table, holding my hands together.

"I'm going to lead." His voice wavers.

"What will be done there?"

"We get most of our supplies for winter. We rotate spots every year so the animals remain plentiful. There is food for everyone."

"How do we get there?"

"We walk there."

"How long does it take?"

"It's different, usually its a few days to a week. It will take about five days to get there." Our voices are softer without light, gentler in some strange way.

"Is this where you wanted to go with her?"

"No, it's a different spot."

"Did you have that spot all picked out?"

Silence.

"Yes, I had the spot picked out."

"Were you excited to be leading the pack with her by your side?" It's dark but the sound can't be hidden now, it's more a stutter out of a breath.

A log splits in the woodstove, the fire spreads a new heat around the room, while mine leaves me.

A chill creeps in.

"Yes."

"Yes, what?" Asking for the expansion of his answer.

The chill tightens my throat.

"Yes, I was excited to lead with her by my side."

"What about me? Didn't you ever think about how I would be walking by your side, while you lead the way? How proud I would have been walking by your side."

"Why do this to yourself, Bessa?"

"I can't help myself. I can't stop. I think about things all day long. I think about the smallest things to the biggest things. I can't stop thinking that I'm not ever going to be good enough for you. That my body isn't going to be as good as what you're used too. I can't stop thinking that I will always have to compete against her." Tears fill and leak out, bringing my knees up to my chest, holding myself.

"You don't have to compete against her, you're my mate, I chose you." His voice hurts.

"Is she still inside you? Do you still think of her during the day or at night? Tell me the truth." My voice already holds the answer I know will come...the sob from me isn't hidden.

"Yes, I do think of her at times." My hand hits the bed, there is no need to hold them, I won't touch myself for a long time now.

"What do you think about?" Demanding my answer.

"Just her, I just think about things." There's a leaking sadness in his sound.

"Did you think about her today?" My sadness does not leak it's flowing out hard and desperate.

"Today I thought about why I never picked flowers for her?"

"Why didn't you." Throwing my words out now, tears mixing with the anger in my voice.

"I never wanted too." His words come out steadier while everything within me squeezes, flexes to the point of breaking.

I could scream.

A vice feels as if it's tightening on my chest.

"Your Wild, does he think about her, does he miss her? Am I good enough for him?" All my doubts surface, rational reasoning leaving.

The Wild once again clamps itself to my neck, holding me firmly in its grip. Preventing me from breaking apart, preventing me losing my mind.

My doubts fade.

Throughout the night, he keeps his teeth deep in my neck, he keeps his body close to mine, but more importantly, I know without a doubt who I belong too. Who I am made for, who wants me.

The Wild.

Author's Note.

A snippet from the upcoming book, Elksa.

"We kept him alive," muffled screams sound out from inside the ground.

I know that voice...

Walking backward, tripping, falling.

"We buried him, he won't hurt you now." The ease of my father's voice calms the welp inside me down.

"Why didn't you just kill him?"

"We couldn't, there would be too much honor in his death." Odin's footsteps hassle the terrain with both his voice and steps.

"He will make his choice in front of our pack,"

Thanks so much Bullo for the beautiful cover.

Hope you're enjoying the story of Bessa and Borson so far...let me know what you think. If you want to discuss in detail come join the discussion on Facebook. My private Facebook group called Rachelle's Books.

Cheers to a beautiful day, beautiful life, a beautiful us....

Presses my cheeks against yours.

Rachelle.