Thank you @Pinkforest1 for the awesome Bessa Trailer.....LOVE IT.....

This is the first time we don't walk side by side to training.

Instead, he lets me lead.

"When you stand against them, rush them. Nothing else. Just rush them, use your left elbow to smash one of them in their jaw. They won't expect it, you're right-handed. But your target is the leader. Always her, Bessa. Make her hurt, make her remember that every time she opens her eyes in the morning, she has to fight you in the afternoon." He's now beside me, opening the door so I can go in first.

The Savage's palm rests on my upper spine, "hobble her," fierce words but his breath tickles the back of my neck. Putting the dish on the table, he goes to his usual spot. His mother is there, a bruise on her face but nothing more stands out that she has just fought someone.

Orva comes in with that smile of teeth that I've come to know as just show. She's a female who has a kindness within her marrow.

When we stand together with her on my left, her eyes fixate on the youngest teacher, who I found out is her mate's sister. My father always taught me to keep my weapons close to me. I might not hold knives, but the weapon beside me is a living breathing machine of destruction.

Always keep your weapons close...

As soon as the teachers get off their chair, I spring, rushing them with violence that is honing with our practice session. My elbow misses the jaw of the one teacher, but my other elbow doesn't miss the big toe of the leader. Falling down to crush her feet. She makes no noise louder than a minor grunt of pain. But to me, it's loud and clear that she is hurting. Taking her other toe, I slam the bone with the palm of my hand, and she sways with the break of unbalance.

Violence compliments violence in a rush of unharnessed fury.

I'm handled well, but more importantly, I handle the teacher as much as I can before being rolled onto my back and a foot stomps on the throat of life ending our play sessions.

Stridor breaths sound musically high trying to swish out of a swollen, damaged throat.

Orva and I lay on the ground, and we laugh as if there is still air in our lungs. Bleeding noses, cut lips and we can't stop laughing.

I'm struggling, but at least I'm not failing.

Orva gets her ass kicked daily, but she doesn't complain, she doesn't shy away from the fight. She continues day after day just like all of us in the group of newcomers.

She holds no fear with her smile of teeth.

"Why do you have no fear of this?" Turning towards her bruised face.

"I fought Victoria if you fought Victoria nothing else would hold your fear except him." Her chin points the Savage's way.

"What is she like, this female alpha, Victoria?" I've been taught that a female Alpha is a living terror. She will bring destruction to the entire world if she is to live. All the Moon asks of us is to kill all female Alphas.

Nothing else, but that one rule.

Kill all Female Alphas...

"She's something to be loved, fear. She saved my life in my old pack. Without her, I'm not sure what would have happened to me. She's going to rule one day, I know it. My only regret is not being there when she takes the East from her father. I should be standing with her because it's the right thing to do." Her eyes drip salt water on the floor, she doesn't look more hurt than normal but it's as if she's in true pain at the moment.

"Sometimes I think the Moon has lied to us." She whispers it in my ear so no one else hears. My heart jumps from the blasphemy of what she just said.

"Can you walk?" The Savage looks at my ankle.

"Yes, but you have to carry my plate of food. My right-hand hurts." The hard line on the Savage's face softens, nodding his head he fills my plate full of the things I've come to like.

The Luna comes to stand next to me, watching her oldest.

"You're fighting better, Bessa from across the sea." Her voice is level, strong.

"When will you give me back my knives, those are my father's. They mean a lot to me." The Luna grips my hand, hard, firm. A whimper out of my throat comes out quickly, without hesitation.

"When you can fight better with these then your knives." She lets go my hand, and I think to myself that I would love to fight her.

One on One.

Our eye contact doesn't break away.

One on One...

The Nature of my Wild flexes comfortably in the skin she's cocooned under...

"Come around six." Orva squeezes my bicep on her way to the food table.

On the way back to the house, we walk side by side. The path crunches beneath my feet; he makes no noise.

How does he walk without his noise?

"Did you do things with her, go out for dinner hang out with friends?" Curiosity eats me. I can't seem to be ever satisfied with his answers, it only makes me hungrier for more about their life together.

"If we went out it was usually with close friends." His sound deepens, I hear a snap of a twig underneath his foot.

"Where are these close friends now?" The rise is hard to control once again in my voice.

"Mourning her." His words plummet to the ground, soaking into the dirt.

"I'm not a monster," yelling at him now.

"I never said you were." His words are softer, delicate.

"They have a right to mourn her. She was their friend. She was well-liked, and the pack feels the loss." The sadness to him is felt from the inside, nothing outward gives away that he is still grieving.

"Do you still mourn your loss?"

Silence.

"Yes, I still mourn her." His lips are straight line pressed together. A soft sound from my heart leeches out, can he tell that over time it's dying little by little.

Jealousy quivers my structure.

"It's not my fault." Defending my actions.

"You killed her." His point-blank rebuttal spits at me.

"No, I didn't, you killed her. You sentenced her to death by my hands. You should have thought about what you were doing. If you covet something that's not yours to covet, then this is what happens. You created this shit for me to walk on. How do I clean myself from your stink?"

Silence, only the pump of his heart is heard, mines quiet waiting for an answer.

"I'm sorry, Bessa." He can say a mouthful of apologies, but nothing will make things okay.

It looks as if he wants to say something to me, but the half-open mouth shuts, he decides not to speak.

Silence slurs itself forward only to come to an abrupt halt between us.

No more words from either of our mouths. Even when we walk in the house. I take my plate and sit on the bed to eat.

The Savage sits at the table quietly, eating with only himself. He looks to be having difficulty swallowing anything down.

I'm done my meal before him.

Gathering my things bringing them into the bathroom. I want to look presentable for my first dinner with a friend.

It takes longer than normal to get ready, making sure I'm perfect.

Oiled skin to make it shine. Hair has been brushed and hangs loose enough to tuck behind my ears.

Khol eyes, lips stained a dark plum to match the background of the Silk.

Leaving the Savage's outfit I made him on the bathroom countertop. It's loose linen pants with a shirt that is much better than the only one he wears. It's not a gift to him from me, it's a necessity that he needs.

He should have something that he can wear that's clean, without holes.

When I come out he's still sitting at the table, his old shirt hangs low, exposing the underneath ridge of his collarbone, I can see the rise of his chest with each breath he takes. The Savage's broad shoulders lean over a map that takes up most of the wooden surface. There is a rope on the table as well.

"What are you looking at?" He shifts himself before his chin pulls up.

Starving green eyes.

My structure shivers with the way he's looking at me. Making me feel as if I am the only thing he has ever wanted to see.

"Come here, and I'll show you." He straightens his back out.

"Why do you have a rope out?" I don't move until he tells me what's it for.

"It's to tie your right arm to your body, you need to work on your left, it's weaker and it's going to be your downfall if you were to fight for real."

"I've been fighting for real." It comes out in disbelief. "I bleed every day."

"You're right, you do bleed every day and that's why I want to tie your hand so you make everyone else bleed but yourself." A small barely there smile curves the top of his lip.

It puts me at ease.

When I come closer, his breathing seems as if he's being tortured.

"I'm looking at the map of our territory, to make sure I pick the best spot. We have two females that are ready to birth. This has to be gentle, or else we might lose them and their pups."

"You mean we walk to the summer grounds, even if there are females ready to birth? Why would they go then?"

"It's where the food is." His voice hitting the line of skin that's peaking between two halves of the Silk.

"Why can't we just drive in?"

"There is no way that any vehicle to take the terrain. It's faster on foot."

"Where will we go?" Trying not to sound fluttery because he's placed his hand on the band of my skirt. His index finger starts to trace the line where Silk meets skin. My shirt leaves an exposed flash of my bare mid-drift.

"Here, it's a four-day soft walk." He points with his other hand before touching my flesh again.

From hipbone to hipbone he traces the skin back and forth.

I shiver.

There is an unconscious lean towards him.

His knuckles stroke the band of exposed skin as his fingers go underneath my top pressing into the start of my rib line.

I'm turning the color that's rushing through my veins. A cheek presses into the length of my upper arm.

Skin against skin...

Laying scent into the pores of skin that are greedily soaking in everything he's giving me.

He stands.

The rough patch of his thumb traces the vein in my neck.

A hungry storm rages between us, I can feel the strength of it.

The power of our bond is limitless.

He keeps his other hand on my hip, pulling me flush to him.

Skin to skin.

His maleness presses between our bodies.

It's firm, rigid without give.

A deep breath.

All muscles contracting.

This is a fallen, weaken moment. So I let the seconds linger longer than I should.

Feasting on this feeling.

I ache for more...

His hand tightens on my waist, pulling me impossibly closer to him. The thumb tracing the vein to move up my jawline, towards my lips.

There is a saturating warmth to him.

I tremble, he shakes.

We both give little stuttering breaths out. The beat of his heart is pounding against my chest.

Teeth scrape against my neck that naturally angles to the side for her mate.

A male's Nature of sound shifts my thighs, the wetness is now evident as I feel slicker between the folds.

Breath now evades me. He's not breathing, he's entirely still as sharp points press into the soft part of my neck.

He waits.

A groan from the back of his throat sounds out low and deep.

I'm breathless.

This feels good, too good.

He shakes now, more than I am.

Wander hands explore my back, up along the path of my spine.

My legs go boneless.

In a sweeping motion, I'm gently placed on my back, with him on top of me. My spine pressing into the floorboards. I take his weight against my mound, and I try so hard not to have him hear the moans of pleasure that is coming out in little bursts of muffled sound.

His hips move into mine.

Hunger rages.

"Bessa," My name sounds like it should always come from his mouth.

Lips almost touching.

My nails are out - his shirt tears easily.

He flinches his moan out, it's long, drawn out making his hips flex hard into mine.

A grind starting.

I fight to hold my sounds of pleasure in.

His hand comes up to my face, the side of his thumb brushing the corner of my mouth.

"You're beautiful." His pupils are dilating engorging themselves black.

"Did you tell her that too?" His entire body stiffens.

Silence.

He presses his forehead to mine, "yes." His eyes are now closed.

"Do you feel as if you are betraying her for me?" His eyes are closed but they tighten themselves more.

Silence.

"Am I your betrayal?"

He won't look at me as he pulls the beat of his heart away.

A snippet from the upcoming story Elska...

"Kalla, why do you smell different when Paley walks into the room? Your neck holds his brother's mark, right?" Goading her, letting the truth leak out into the air, just like she's leaking out her musk.

No answer.

"It's offensive to my nose, and I'm sure to your mate's nose as well." The air shifts, a hand at my throat squeezing.

"You should have been left out at birth." Her fingers squeeze harder, firmer.

No air.

"No voice, Elska?" Her lips touch my ear because if they weren't she wouldn't be able to hear herself.