Power seduces, cementing my spine straighter, without a bend.

The Savage has risen to his completed height with me on his Right. Slowly turning us to face all the gathering wolves.

The pad of his thumb rests against my wrist, the War of my pulse beats hard, fast, without control.

His musculature on him is tightly flexed, blood vessels engorged, primal.

The Savage is puffed up with adrenaline and pride.

Unveiled and bare to me.

A blast of hunger blows into the marrow of my bones.

"Luna of the Far North." The Savage's father walks towards me, there is no crouch to his shoulders, no bend to his spine.

Chin raised, that mimics the Savage at his father's approach.

"You've beaten my mate." His voice is solid, a quiver sharpens the bones of my spine to rub into the flesh. His mate is still crouched on the ground, dripping blood from her nose. Nothing moves but the Alpha.

A quiver of fear.

Fingers weave through mine.

"You've fought well, Luna." Deep greens hone in on mine before he bows his head, low. His inked canvas of flesh spreads even up into his skull, where the side of his head is shaved.

"Thank you, Alpha." Bowing back to him.

"Borson, you have a mate who has exceeded the expectation of someone who has seen many seasons pass by. The Moon has blessed you in her favor." The palm of his father's hand rests on the Savage's shoulder. It makes the curvature of his lips tremble and press together. A shine to his spring green eyes that make my own mist with what this male feels.

Pride in me.

There is a hard tightness in the length of my throat that's from the Savage who is standing beside me.

"The Moon has given me my Right, my Luna." Truthful pride harbors deep within the sound of the Male beside me.

"Lunas are to be respected, always. Whether it's a new Luna starting her path or an older Luna finishing her's. All Lunas are too be respected, and cared for, always." The father of this Savage goes to his mate, holding out his hand for her to take. She rises carefully.

Cheek against cheek.

The Alpha holds his mate's blood on his face now when both turn to face me, hand in hand.

"May your reign hold Honor, hold Virtue of one's self. May you show Strength in the face of fear. May the weak never feel weak while you are close by. May you reign show the Respect to the Old Ways that we hold dear to our hearts." His father pauses, looking at his mate.

His mother steps towards me,

Cheek against cheek...

Our eyes meet once she pulls away.

"May you be a Provider to those who cannot provide for themselves. May you have the Endurance to lead well and the heart to Love all that is underneath your care." His mother says with a wavering sound that is attached to salty tears.

Both bow, turning from us, walking slowly away hand in hand.

Pride within the Savage consumes the structure of who he is to embed into the layering of flesh, sinew, sinking into my bones.

Liquid heat slides along the surface of my throat. The pupils of his eyes are dilating to eat away the green.

He swallows, when I try it gets stuck midway, my moisture has been pulled down deep, between my legs.

My skin strains to touch his.

Shaky breath, trembling thighs, eyes that consume the sight of him.

A weak moment that he doesn't pounce on.

"We should go back to our fire." His voice doesn't match what his eyes are screams.

Hunger.

Need.

Desire.

"We should go back." Afraid to stay in this spot any longer I might do something regrettable to him. There is a need to bring my body closer to his. A driving force to touch his bare chest, to skim my fingers from hipbone to hipbone and feel the start of his hairline. A consuming want to pull his loincloth to the side and taste my Male fully.

How do I ask him if I can taste him without sounding like her?

The Nature of my Wild reflexes her sound to what I can't and won't say. She carries her voice towards him in something that causes his skin to tremor. The fabric of his loincloth now hides his raging desire as well.

"We will need to fish first." He's not looking at me while saying it, he's looking at my neck and a trail of saliva drips from his chin.

"I'll get us our fish we need." Turning around walking towards the table where the fish is being cleaned on. The females still haven't moved from their spots. The hand is still securely anchored with Orva's knife to the makeshift table.

Pulling out the knife I hand it back to Orva who is watching with a smile that is sharp.

"Thank you, my friend."

Turning to the female with the bleeding hand. "I'm taking your fish because you were done but weren't hungry enough to go back to your family with what you've caught. You decided to take a spot of another that was hungry and only wanted to have a turn to clean their fish and move on."

The female has her head bowed with silent lips.

"You will never be my friend. Something inside of you is poisoned, you don't treat others that way. Especially not ones with small pups who are tired, who need to lay down. These mothers are nursing, they have traveled a long distance, and you make them stand and wait for you because you wanted them to suffer more than they already have been suffering."

...she says nothing. 

Taking her cleaned fish in my hands, I walk away with the Savage trailing slightly behind me.

"How do you feel?" The Savage asks while taking the fish from my hands once we get back to the tent.

"I feel strong, I feel like I was made to become a Luna."

"You are the Luna now." His cheek brushes mine before cooking the fillets.

"I need to wash?" Looking at my hands.

"The lake is where we will bath and wash for the summer."

'In front of others?" I can't hide the fear.

"We all have to wash, did you not wash with others?"

"No, we kept our modesty always. No one has seen my naked flesh since my first shift."

...his body stops its movement.

"I will find a private spot for you to wash by yourself until you feel comfortable washing in the presence of others." The Savage goes into the side of his pack, pulling out something that's wrapped in paper.

"I don't want you to watch me wash, I will keep my modesty even from your eyes." A hard command.

"I'm your mate."

"I don't care."

He breathes out a controlled breath.

"I'll wait for you before we eat. Here's the soap." He hands me a bar of soap that looks homemade, in an irregular shape.

"What about my hair?" Thinking of the way I have always cared for it with different selections of conditioners and oils at the ends.

"Usually the females braid their hair, or shave most of it off leaving just the top."

"Do you know how to braid?"

"I do."

"Did she teach you?"

'No, my mother showed me when I was younger. I could braid your hair for you."

He waits...

"I know how to braid my own hair."

He exhales slowly out while I walk towards the lake edge to wash my hands and face before ending with the last meal of the day.

Walking back, Luki has set up a tent near us, and I wave at him. His wrist has the silk scarf wrapped around it, and he smiles with his dimples showing.

The meal fills me, yet I still carry a hard hunger when I see the Savage come back from his washing. The beads of water still are dripping from his hair down his chest to stop at the loincloth that's wrapped securely around his waist.

"I'm going to bed." Needing to look away.

"Goodnight, Bessa."

Silence...

Nothing is said back before lifting the flap to go inside the tent. When the flap closes, no light can be seen, complete darkness.

It seems smaller inside here now, something has changed. There is only one bed of furs, and a fear shuffles itself along my shoulders to wrap it's tender wisps around my neck that we will be sleeping together in here.

The sound of him coming into the shelter is what wakes me and holds my lungs still. Muscles tightening as he slips into the cover with me.

His back touches mine.

"Good night Bessa." Soon after his breathing shifts quietly to a deep sound sleep and I can close my eyes.

Shifting a small moan out, that's what wakes me completely.

The Savages body is warm, solid curving around mine. I'm laying on his arm while his other hand rests on the bone of my hip.

An arch of my back pushes my backside into him.

His hips tilt themselves into the roundness of my ass.

"Bessa," it comes out shallow as if he's having a hard time breathing.

Fingers now dig, pulling me more into his space.

HIs hips tilt, shift, press themselves into my body more.

...I can feel the want of him, the hunger of what his body is craving.

The scent of him is everywhere.

Blood rushing to the heat the surface of my skin.

His nose burrows into my hair.

He inhales, I hold my breath.

"Would you like to hunt with me today?" The timbre of his voice squeezes my sex tight within itself.

"Yes," it's only one word, but it's hard to get out.

"Should we get up now?" He's saying it, but there is no desire in his voice to move from our spot.

The darkness is complete inside here. Nothing can be seen.

It's easier this way.

My breathing is not controlled as his fingers start to draw circles on the side of my ribs.

I shift my hips into his more, and he groans low in his chest.

"I like the feel of Silk on you." The palm of his hand runs down my thigh, then back up to stop underneath my breast.

Again he runs his palm down my side as if proving how good I feel over Silk.

There is no need to close my mouth or eyes, he can't see me, and I can't see his hand moving over me.

"What will be hunt?" Trying to talk but not caring what we will do today as long as the hand doesn't stop, as long as this feeling between my legs continues to grow.

"Frogs." The word presses itself between the blades of my shoulders.

His hips flex, and I feel him completely nestled between the crack of my ass, only a barrier of Silk between us.

...I gasp.

My nails dig into the furs in front of me.

"I'll wait for you outside." The beat of his heart pulls quickly away. I'm left to settle myself down, to squeeze my legs tight and concentrate on everything else but him.

Pulling the flap of the tent open, the light of day squints my eyes in hurtful rapid blinks.

The fire's burning hot, but not as hot as the sun that's beating it's rays down on my head.

"Ready?" His lips form the barest of a curved edge smile.

"For what?" Eying the rope in his hand.

"Frog hunting." He takes his step towards me. A cup in his other hand that he's extending to me.

"What's this?"

"Tea,"

"What kind?" Taking the cup, letting the steam hit my face.

Inhaling.

...eyes closed.

"There were mint and crowberry leaves on the trail here, so I picked some." He's not looking at me when I take a small sip. It's a peculiar taste that one can get used too.

"Did you do this with her? Catch frogs, pick leaves for tea?"

"No, Bessa. We never went frog hunting, I've never wanted to pick leaves before."

"Then why pick leaves now?" Taking another sip.

"I thought you might enjoy the tea." His voice remains even without inflection just stating things that have my ribs pull inwards to protect my most precious vital organ.

Silence.

Finishing the wooden cup, handing it back, watching how he puts it into a small pail of water before turning it upside down to dry.

"Why the rope?"

"I'm going to tie your right hand down, so you have to hunt with your left." His heartbeat pulls closer, the instinct to breathe ceases.

Touch

The feel of his fingers around my wrist has that consuming heat fluster my skin upward from the depth of my marrow.

"If I'm Luna, why do I need to practice with my left?" He finishes the last knot in the thin rope.

"You should always be able to fight with strong fists no matter if it's the Left or Right. I want you as strong as you can be. Without weakness." His cheek touches mine before pulling away.

Shouldering a backpack, the Savage leads us towards a creek that feeds the lake.

"Are you right handed or left?" Noticing how he can do things quickly with the left or right.

"I don't know? I'll have to ask my father." The Savage regards his hands before letting them fall to his side.

"There are several fathers with their small pups, all males lining the edges mud up to their knees. Looking at my pants, I know that they will be ruined soon.

"You're going to have fierce competition." His voice is behind me now, and I didn't hear the sound of him when he moved.

"How do you do that?"

"Do what?"

"Walk without me hearing you."

"Practice." Now there is no mistaking his smile. It's of the barest qualities, but it's there in the slight rise of a lip.

"Will you teach me how to walk without sound?"

"I'll teach you anything you ask of me."

Our eyes meet.

The first few times trying for frogs is harder than I thought and I actually trip in the muddy bank, head first into the water.

"Do I have mud on my face?"

The Savage laughs quietly, his shoulders shake. He's beautiful when he laughs, it catches me off guard.

"You do."

"Perfect." Wiping away with my left hand the mud, I can feel it smear.

The morning continues, and I've made six catches and everyone he examines carefully as if it's the best frog he's ever seen.

"I think you've caught the oldest frogs here, they're, healthy and fat." His chest puffs out, and he's walking a taller than before.

Pride.

"This was your first time hunting frogs?"

"Yes." Trying to hold the smile away from my face.

"I think you're a natural frog catcher, Bessa. Tomorrow we will go for the trout in the streams." He's excited, and I can't help but feel excited by what he just said to me. The knot unties, releasing my hand from its bondage.

"These are called cattail, the roots can be roasted, boiled or soaked in water to get the starch out and made into a flour. I'd like to fill this backpack up with the roots." He puts the backpack on the ground as we start to dig with our hands and pull the steams of the plant out of the water. It takes both of us to do this, and after an hour the back is beyond full.

Taking a moment to dive into the water, the heat is getting to me. When surfacing, he's watching. The Savage has dirt on his left cheek, mud to his chest and thighs. He casually unties the side of his loincloth, it drops where he stands.

Carnivorous

Ravenous

Hunger

The sight of him makes me feel hungry for the consumption of flesh.

...he waits.

While I become a greedy onlooker...

Closing my mouth when he slips into the water without a ripple, without any notice that something significant has just entered underneath the blue.

A grab to my ankles pulls me down quickly.

Looking underwater his face is easy to see, the strands of his hair shift around his face. The green beads that are attached to the ends of his small braids act as weights sinking them down to remain near his shoulders.

The both of us surfacing spitting water out of our mouths. His cheek is clean, the mud has washed away. Toes digging into the muddy bottom standing with the water up collarbone.

He waits a moment...his smile is gone, a serious side to his face shows through, while those eyes hone in on my mouth.

He comes closer.

Close enough to touch.

A hard hunger ignites in the pit of my gut, just above my mound.

Everything seems sharper when his fingers push into the side of my hip.

An unconscious lean forward.

A shaky breath, when lips meet just underneath the jaw.

Tongue tasting the War of my pulse as it beats hard in my throat.

His hand feels heavy, possessive around my hip.

Lips place a kiss on my collarbone with a trace of a tongue.

A harsh breath out that is...ungovernable.

Another kiss to the hollow of my throat, my neck angling to his teeth that has descended.

Hunger grows for more of his mouth on my skin.

Unbidden desire pulse with life.

His hand climbs higher taking the material with it exposing my torso underneath the water.

Skin on skin

The palm of his hand spreads out, just underneath my breast. His fingers fitting into the space between my ribs.

Holding me to him.

Closing my eyes with a moan that slips out.

His mouth moves high, along my jawline. The tip of his tongue touches my flesh in between his parted lips.

Nails dig into his shoulders.

A thumb on my cheek, tilting my head back, looking into his eyes.

Engorged, dilated, I see the hunger in them.

A low toned growl vibrates into my chest from deep inside his.

The percussion ripples the water around us.

Exhaling a breath out he pulls the same breath deep into his lungs.

A faint graze from his lips on mine before he pulls the beat of his heart away.

The cocoon on the shell of his skin is flexing, shifting, the Wild within fighting to ascend.

Pupils are blown, teeth have descended fully, the shift of him becomes a body that is half Wild, half skin. A melding of one structure...

Stasis.

A cry of agony as the Nature within does battle for domination.

When he shakes his head back and forth the fur slides back in, and an Alpha stands before me, controlled, calm and within eyes of spring green.

"It's difficult to be in control around you, my Right. I've not had that happen before." A hard voice out and he seems to be chastising himself.

Walking out of the water, it's my turn to look away to fight that maddening hungry within me, that needs something more than a quick touch of a lip, or a slide of hand.

Our Silence holds a rawness of hunger that can be scented on the tip of my tongue.

Changing out of my wet clothes, throwing them out of the tent, so nothing in here becomes wet. One of the ruined Silk is now slipped on, a tear that has been sewn but it's not the same pristine beauty it once was. The wet clothes are hanging up on a line away from the smoke fire when I come out.

"Bessa do you mind taking the frog guts to the juvenile fire. I'm going to start breakfast then we can prepare the cattails together." The Savage hands me a bucket that holds the butchered parts of the frogs that are of no use.

I can tell his eyes follow me, they burn against the material of silk.

His father is there speaking with some of the juveniles on a log.

Tossing the guts into the big fire, it's a wonder how they keep it going.

"Bessa, sit with me." The Alpha slides over for me to sit with him.

"How is your mate?"

"She's doing well, resting."

"This is a big fire." Watching the juvenile males bringing dead logs to be chopped up.

"It is, this fire is where we burn all the waste, it's to keep predators away, it helps anyone whose fire has burned out. This fire will never die out until we leave these grounds."

"What happens if a storm comes, how do they keep it going?"

"A fire can withstand any storm if taken proper care of."

"How do you take care of it in the rain?"

"Carefully, a well-built fire can withstand the worst of times, if it's foundation is made properly."

"I don't see how it can withstand a deluge."

"Underneath that fire is a raised platform that houses the coals when the rain comes. Logs are stacked over it, protecting the coal from flooding until the rain stops. The coals are always there, just waiting for something to ignite it again." The Alpha's eyes reflect the flames of the fire.

"Has Borson ever let the fire go out when he was in charge of watching it?"

"Once, a year ago. He was neglectful of what his duty was to the pack. How important his role is." The guts of the frog guts hiss and crackle, sizzling in flames.

"The fire almost died out completely on his watch. He would have been the first to ever let the fire be extinguished. The rain was coming down for two days straight. He didn't have a stockpile like he should have. We told him, the Elders and myself, but a young male is hard to teach when they think they know everything." The Alpha smiles to himself.

"Did you know everything at that age?" Looking at the fire.

"I thought I did, looking back. I knew it all as well. Now, I'm not too sure." He says with a chuckle.

"Borson was busy with things that he had no business being busy with."

"Was it her?"

"Yes, he was busy with her." Tears threaten to take my vision away. A hand on my shoulder with a small squeeze before being taken away.

"The rain came down, and the fire started to wean." A full belly laugh comes out of the Alpha's mouth.

"Borson had to fight for just a coal to keep going, the rain the wind were all against him. He persevered, worked hard to save that coal underneath the enclosure, with his resources dwindling, he burned all the wood, except for one piece that had to be used sparingly throughout the night. Little by little, he coaxed that coal back to life, fed it with wood shavings, blowing on it until the smallest of sparks caught the wood. He was able to take care of something delicate, almost dying and make it into something strong again."

Watching the flames, the female that was pregnant comes to the fire and drops some kind of animal guts into the flames which sizzle and sputters the flames out.

Her eyes are vacant, and a paleness has taken over her flesh.

"Is she alright?" saying it low.

"She's going through a difficult time; her pup was given to Nature."

"What do you mean?"

"The pup was with deformities of his structure. His legs were wrong, his spine was crooked. There would be no chance for survival out here. His eyes were also missing."

Silence...

"Do you put all pups born different out for Nature to take?" Trepidation sinks down, rolling the bottom of my stomach in waves of nausea.

"Yes, the Old Ways state that all pups born with defects will be put out for Nature to consume quickly. It's a kindness we show them and a burden that is lifted off the pack." His jaw clenches.

"Have you ever had to do that?"

"Yes, once." The Alpha's head tilts down.

"In my lineage, we are susceptible to having pups that are born with skin the color of the Moon, blindness is a trait they hold. They are revered and sought after where I come from. They are treated with honor, and cared for by many."

"Here the pup would be put out for Nature. There is no way place for an abomination to live. It's the rules we live by Bessa. Have you spoken to Borson about what you are capable of producing."

"No, not yet."

"The Moon's only real words are to kill all Female Alphas. That is her doctrine for us to obey, completely. We have rules that govern our pack that can be bent slightly." His eyes shift to mine in his full tone of who he is.

"What can be bent?"

"The only thing that can't be broken is the word of Our Moon. All other rules can be shifted slightly."

"What about the Alpha not touching a female unless it's his immediate family or mother?" The Savage could have bent the rules.

"If that were to happen the pack would descend on the next Alpha and tear him limb from limb. We follow that rule completely, but there are other rules that can be shifted if you know how to go about doing it." The Alpha seems to be speaking with his eyes but keeping his mouth closed to what he is trying to say.

"Has my son talked to you about the Claiming Ceremony?"

"No really, just that he will mark me then."

A pause in words before he takes a deep breath.

"It's my job to give you something in trade for doing the ceremony. We have gold; we hold land, we have wealth that is unimaginable to the outside world. I can give you something of great importance; I could give protection as well." The Alpha lets the slide of his War showcase out of his mouth before they pull back in.

"I will think long on this trade, Alpha. When I have the proper wording, I will come and ask you for something that is of great significance to me." Getting up I show my neck to his hierarchy and walk calmly away with questions in my mind for the Male who is holding a wooden plate in his hand.

"Savage, we need to talk now." He swallows what's in his mouth.

"About?" Weary eyes watch my face.

"The Claiming Ceremony."

"It's the greatest Ceremony a Luna can have."

"Go on, Borson. Tell me of this Claiming Ceremony." Stretching out his name the plate falls from his hand.

"You will be Claimed in front of the pack, in front of the gathered Alphas and Lunas of all the packs in the world." His spine holds straight; words come out with a belief in power.

"You will be given a mixture to drink that will make you forget the Ceremony."

"Why would I need to forget?"

"The Lunas of the past said that was easier for Lunas of the present to be given the tea to drink."

"Did your mother drink this tea?"

"No she didn't, she wanted to remember everything."

An unease with something that is not right hovers just out of my grip.

"How will I be Claimed?" There is a tension that holds in my shoulders, that clenches the bones in my spine.

"You will be marked with a second line on your face. Just like my mother has." His words seem careful.

"What else," Crossing my arms over my chest, a need to hold my body because this doesn't seem right.

"You will be painted in my image, all the ink on my skin will be drawn on yours."

"Why?"

"You will be naked, your body showcasing what I have done to prepare for you, prepare to lead the Far North."

"You will see me naked?" I can't hide my sound of disbelief.

"You will be painted like my skin is, you will be naked underneath paint and stains. Your body will be hidden, the view distorted. The wolves in the crowd will be given tea as well to make them euphoric. There will be drums, dancing, feasting." His sound carries to the center of my chest.

"What else happens?"

"I will mark you as mine." His eyes fall to my unmarked neck.

"Is there anything else involved?"

He waits before he speaks.

"I will take you in front of the pack."

"Take me how?" Fear flows outward to saturate the ground.

"Your Virtue will be Claimed for all to see, in both of your entrances."

The shake of my body is unhindered.

The frothy rage that spits out of my mouth is without restraint.

"You will take me like a breeding whore for all to see. That's how my pack takes their Breeders." Screaming at him, causing eyes to fall on our conversation.

"I told you that all that's left for us is fucking, and I'm right. I'm going to be Claimed as your breeder without respect, without love, without care."

"It's not like that, Bessa."

"It is to me, to me it is the vilest of humiliations a female can endure. This is for Breeders, not Lunas, not me."

Salt tastes lips before the cocoon of skin shifts and the Wild within runs as if our life depends on it.

Author's Note. Snippet of Elska. 

"I don't want him to run us. Why can't you Odin?" Pouting out, lip down. Please let it work. 

"Elska, you have a mate. He can run you, now." The harness is picked up where I threw it. 

...not by Odin. 

By him...

"Odin he has no idea how to run the Wild. We will be hurt." Turning my back on the burn of him.

"Elska, I won't hurt you." Shamus's low sound approaches. 

"Odin, I don't trust him. Please, my brother."

"He's your mate, Elska." There is a bite to him as if he's snapping right at my face. 

"Odin, I'll give you a trade." 

"You have nothing to trade me, Elska." He dismisses me as if we aren't blood.

"I know where Charlie is." The harness falls to the ground, feet...multiple pairs run towards me. 

Fingers at my throat. Squeezing. Choking. 

Thank You. Evie for such a beautiful cover. 

Presses my cheek to yours. 

Rachelle.