The chest of the Savage tightens, constricts and closes in on itself.

He can't breathe...neither can I.

Darkness is complete, no sight, just sound.

The storm is pillaging the outside in furious gusts of rain and wind.

Feeling the hem of my Silk, pulling it down, trying to mask my smell.

Ashamed...

Impossible, everything is saturated in the thick musk of my privates.

The guilt sinks down low, the realization I just broke a cardinal rule.

Your mate is supposed to own your first orgasm; it's there's not yours.

The dark entombs in a solid wall of black.

When turning to my side the beat of his heart shifts with my motion, to press against my back over Silk.

His hand finds the rise of my hip before is slipes around my waist pulling me flush against his body.

"What are you doing?" A ragged breath out.

"Holding you."

"Why?" Trying to scoot my body away, he won't let any space between our bodies.

"You need me too." Barely heard words above the grotesque noise the storm is making.

"You shouldn't feel shame about giving yourself pleasure, Bessa." His words press into the back of my head.

"I don't feel that way." Trying to tell him the things I don't believe.

Silence...

The storm weens eventually unlike my tears, they just keep wetting the side of the fur my cheek is pressed against.

"I don't think what you did is wrong, its natural, normal, and healthy. That's what we teach here. You can touch yourself without it being bad." He leans in closer to me.

"From where I'm from if a female or male were to do that to themselves and gets caught you would be punished. The male's hands would be cut off, their teeth pulled out one by one. The females would be used as breeding whores for the males who lost their mates. The males would also be used as breeders if they survived..." A shudder of fear climbs up the lenght of bone in my spine to harbor itself deep in my neck.

The Savage kisses the spot that holds profound confliction - the top of my spine, just underneath my hairline.

"We would never do that here, Bessa." He presses his hard cock into me, sliding it along the silk until he finds a comfortable place to let it rest.

"Obviously, you'd have died a long time ago."

Dark silence is complete after my words are said, his breathing has halted.

He holds me but his cock never softens, it's furiously hard against my Silk. I can feel the ache inside the pit of his lower stomach...

Another kiss is placed between my shoulders before he falls asleep, soft breaths lull me to follow his breathing pattern...

Eyes open, darkness is complete, nothing is seen. The Savage is not behind me, in fact, his space behind me has grown cold, but the scent of him saturates the inside of this tent. Coating it with a thick layer that holds on my skin when putting it to my nose, inhaling.

Getting dressed in pants and a shirt, lifting the tent flap up, the Sun's light startles my eyes closed.

"Good morning." The Savage sits on a log facing the low burning fire.

The trees still hold the shine of rain, dripping water from the branches. The air smells of wood smoke and dampness.

"Here," he holds a cup of steaming tea, the twisting vapor tentacles up in the air until dispersing in the light breeze.

"What is it?" Smelling before tasting, sweet nectar touches the tip of my tongue.

"It's from the honeysuckle flower. They are in bloom now, so I picked some this morning and made tea." He's watching the way lips are at the edge of the cup, the heat from his stare seems hotter than the water it's been steeped in.

"It's good," pulling more of the top cooler layer of liquid in my mouth.

"Have you made her this tea before?" Waiting to take another sip, or to throw it at him.

"No," His eyes hold mine. I wish the jealousy would drip off me like the rain does from trees, after a thunderstorm. Instead, I feel the are clings to the crevices of my skin. The emotion burrows in like a parasite that feeds off me.

How do you fight jealousy? How do you make it stop its constant hunger inside you?

"I made breakfast." A generous meal on a wooden plate sits on a log that I assume is my spot by the fire, it's on his right.

Sniffing and I realize that I know this smell. "Is this turtle?"

"Yes, it is," he wears a shift of smile over teeth that don't show.

"What are we going to do today?" Eyeing up the rope that he's just picked up off the ground. He starts to tie my right hand which makes me balance my cup and plate in the left hand.

When his fingers brush over pulse point of my wrist, the liquid in the cup, trembles, and splashes over the sides.

It's impossible to hide what skin on skin contact does to my body.

Dilating greens pulse, engorge, consume his irises to a sharp black that takes over the small space entirely.

His throat vibrates with his low tones growl. A nose trails up my arm that's tied tight to my body.

Until he presses inhaling breathes into the hollow of my throat.

The beat of his heart pulls away to sit back in his spot.

"We are going to climb a cliff today, together."

"I'm not sure I want to, I'm not a good climber." Making sure to eat every bite of my meal, afraid in the back of my mind that I won't get to eat again today.

"You're afraid?" His fingertips touch my shoulder briefly before pulling it away.

"Yes," looking away, into the fire while eating silently until I'm finished.

The Savage takes the plate to throw in the fire, it sparks up creating blackening smoke as the wood takes to flame.

"Ready?" An eyebrow raises in question.

"Ready." Walking with my right arm secured by my side, I realize that I'm making more noise as I walk.

The slope is steep, the path is muddy from the rain last night. A few times I slip, only to be caught by the Savage. When getting to the bottom of the ravine, we walk along the pebbled shoreline until reaching a high cliff, the waves lapping at the jagged bolder ridden bottom.

"I'm not sure about this." Halting my steps. He takes a rope out of his backpack, looping it around his waist, over each shoulder, a knot is tied. He does the same with me, around my waist, around each shoulder like a harness.

Pulling on the knot, making sure he's secured it tightly, both of us look up the cliffs rocky outcrop.

"We have to try at least." He starts upward, the rope pulling taunt until I raise a foot and step up, gripping the rock with my left hand.

He leads first, taking a path I follow.

Tremoring legs, harsh breath, tense fingers, sweat runs down my back, as the Sun's rays soak into the fabric of my shirt.

The first slip causes the Savage to hold onto the rock with nails that gouge and hold us up, as I dangle off the surface of the cliff, screaming...

"Bessa, use your hand, grip into the rock." Doing what he's telling me but still screaming hard. The birds take flight, and I swear my voice echoes around the entire world.

"That's right, now find your feet, just like that, good, Bessa."

I shake.

"I can't move." Shaking my head back and forth. Gripping onto the rock, not looking down. I can't look down.

"You can move, you didn't fall, you won't fall. I'll make sure you don't fall, Bessa. It's one hand up. You can do this, one hand, move, one hand, move." Gentle instructions with a tone of belief I can move up.

Once again he leads, and I follow where he puts his hand, I follow the footing he puts his feet on.

Higher the climb the slower my body moves, but the faster my mind thinks.

A crow caws high above riding the thermals, carrion eater, is it waiting for me to fall, to eat the flesh from my bones?

I'm going to fall.

Fear grips labourously than my hand on the rock the further up we climb. It's slow, as the anxiety shakes my legs to the point I stop before the midway point. Holding on to the side of the cliff refusing to move down or up.

Standstill...

"I can't do this, Savage." Refusing to move the rebelling muscles of my body. I'm locked up tight, nothing will move, even my lungs can't hold a full breath inside them.

"You can do this Bessa, use those thighs, grip in with your feet. Pull yourself with your hand. To the left of your fingers just above your head, put your hand there, use your nails. One foot, then the other." He doesn't move until I am right beside him, instead of above me. There is no rush to him, the voice doesn't harass me to move, it waits for me to move.

Our eyes meet.

He nods his head, looks up and when my hand raises to pull myself up then he does.

Together we climb up to the halfway point, side by side.

A careless hand placed on a rock that isn't secure, has me falling, to crash against the side of the cliff. Clinging to rope with my left hand, terror seizes my voice, my heart can't beat any faster without exploding from fright.

He doesn't let me fall, taking all my body weight in his fingertips. I dangle without footing until I find my footing on the rocks.

He waits...

"Bessa, are you alright." He asks because I have my forehead pressed against the wall of rock.

Immobility grips into my skeletal structure.

Fear grabs my lungs.

The intellect of my brain says, don't move. Looking down it's too far to climb down, looking up it's too far to go up.

"I'm not alright, I can't do this. I can't." Hysteria bubbles out.

"You can," He's right beside me.

"Look at me, Bessa." His voice soft, subtle without a demand.

"I can't open them."

"You can." He's acting as if we have time, all the time to cling to the surface of a cliff.

He waits...

A minute maybe thirty go by with us just staying where we are until the pulse in my body soothes itself down to the point I can open my eyes again.

The Savage's greens are the first thing I see, the first thing my eyes cling to when I open them.

"Ready?" He leans into me, a nudge of a cheek before pulling away.

"You're doing good, Bessa. We don't have much more to go."

My hand raises, nails hook into the rock. Legs follow upward, higher we climb side by side. The water's voice isn't so loud this high up. The air calm, the sky blue, the sun shines.

My fear dwindles, knowing if I fall, the Savage won't let me hit bottom. He's got me secured in his grip.

"Bessa, go first. We are almost there." He won't move until the rope is pulled taut on his body. With only my left hand, I'm able to scale the ledge to pull myself completely off the side onto the edge of the cliff.

Crawling away from it the Savage swings his body up and over the side, carelessly, without any effort in his face.

"You did it!" His face smiles wide, teeth showing.

"Come here." The Savage doesn't move from the edge of the cliff. Crawling to him, my thighs are still wobbly.

"Look down." Both of us now are on our bellies, looking over the cliff.

It's a long way down, a lot further than I thought.

"You did that! You climbed up with one hand. You didn't quit even when you were terrified, you kept going. You mastered the fear within. Not too many can do that. I'm proud of you, Bessa." His hand is on my back, another nudge to my cheek.

The ribs in my chest loosening their protection against my heart.

He rolls himself on me, the weight of him pressing my back into the ground.

Another nudge against my cheek with his.

Lips brushing the side of my mouth.

Hips sway against hips.

His hand grips my lower jaw, face hovering above mine...

Eyes of green hone in on mine, demanding me to look at him, not to look away.

"I've never been prouder of anything or anyone in my life as I am of you, Bessa." The words are hard to come out, they crack in his throat a few times and his eyes shine.

Within him, I can sense the overwhelming pride he holds for me, to the point he has a hard time managing the inside of him.

He's losing the control of himself.

His eyes scream starvation.

In the light of day, the Savage presses his lips to mine. Nothing is humble about the way his mouth is tasting mine.

My hunger for those lips deepens...

A moan out...

Hips grinding into hips, a hand roams over the expanse of his back.

A devouring hunger consumes its greed to be fed.

Tongues taste, teeth nip.

Inhaling, exhaling, breathing the other in.

His hand runs the side of my body, feeling every pulse point that is surging with blood through engorged arteries.

The beat of his heart pulls away, as he rolls off of me. His body tremors now, breathing hard, he seems to be having a great revolt within himself that causes him a true pain I feel.

He grunts out, teeth descending.

He's on me again, without any control.

Teeth scrape the length of my neck.

Eyes roll back in my head...

A moan out.

I'm tightening from within.

I want him on me.

His teeth now ghost over the junction on my throat where bone meets flesh.

Quivering flesh, a shifting body he's losing himself, to himself.

His hunger is too demanding, his needs to be satisfied is felt as if it were my own needs. His compulsions are licking the surface of my mind.

His greed is more than mine, his wants are overwhelming me.

Insistent hunger travels through him.

A ravenous kiss, lips on lips, tongues slip in through open mouths.

His hand now underneath my shirt, traveling upwards, past the cage of my ribs that protect my heart.

They climb higher up, to rest underneath my breast and I freeze. This isn't the dark, this is in the light and he can see me.

He stops instantly.

His heart beats just as fast as mine when I fell off the cliff. He's trying to breathe as he rolls off, laying on his stomach, eyes closed. His claws are clinging to the ground.

The Savage shakes uncontrollably.

"We should go back." Standing up, the Savage doesn't move. His eyes are clenched tight, he's having a hard time breathing.

"I need a minute, Bessa."

He takes his minute that spreads into a long wait. I can feel an emotion of terror, I can feel it overwhelming him to immobility. He stays that way, clinging to the ground until he overcomes his emotions enough to move again. He undoes the rope that ties us together in silence. Putting the length in his backpack. My right hand still remains tied.

His father is at our fire when we get closer, sitting watching the rising flames. An animal roasting dripping grease, my mouth waters, and stomach tells everyone how hungry it is.

The Savage puffs up, an excitement building.

"Did she get to the top?" The father is asking a son who is smiling wide, teeth showing.

"She got there first, before me." Pride ruffles up the Nature within me, she hones in on this Savage with eyes that consume my vision...

She only sees him, nothing else.

The Alpha chuckles low to himself which makes my vision clear to see them staring at me, the cocoon of skin settling back down along the length of bone.

We sit with his father at our fire, the Savage retelling our climb. He tells the story of my first slip, how I screamed and even the Moon herself probably heard me. He tells of how I overcame great fear, great difficulty to keep climbing up, it's bringing tears to the Savages eyes with how in the middle of our climb I couldn't move up or down. I just clung to the cliff, how I doubted myself, doubted the rope that was tied between us.

The Savage can't go on, he's lost his voice in the deepness of his throat.

His father has a hand on his shoulder with a nod.

"Did you think she would fail, my son?" The Alpha asks.

"No, not once. I knew she would get to the top."

Our. Eyes. Meet.

The Savage continues to talk, about the way we climbed side by side until I went ahead and lead the way, picking the best places to put our hands, our feet until I scaled the top. By the time the Savage is done, even I have tears clinging in the wells of my eyes.

"Bessa, no female from our pack has ever climbed that cliff with one hand. You should feel pride that you overcame your fears to get to the top." The Alpha bows lower than I've ever seen an Alpha bow.

"Your son helped me. I couldn't have done it without him."

"Did he help you? Did he move your legs for you, did he pull you up the cliff?"

"No," looking towards the Borson.

"Then he never helped you. You did it by yourself, he only made sure you didn't fall and encouraged you to move. Everything else you did on your own."

A pride within myself clings to my bones, there is a stretch of my lips that hold the heat of the Savages stare.

We eat greedily, the grease is dripping off our chins by our fire that my mate keeps tending regularly.

His father leaves once the meal is done, the day is done. The climb has taken up the entire day.

When we go into the tent, I change into the night Silk. He is naked I can tell when he pushes himself against my back, and arm around my body, just underneath my breast.

"Good night, Bessa." A kiss placed on the top of my spine.

"Good night." Saying it out loud but low.

The bones of my ribs shift in a sigh that doesn't feel so tight in my chest.

Darkness consumes us, the beat of his heart is steady, calm and lulls me into a secure sleep.

When waking up, he's gone.

Getting dressed in the same outfit as yesterday. Opening the flap on the tent, the Savage is standing there by the fire.

"Are you hungry," There is a growl to his sound.

"Starving," A playful growl back.

"The pack brought down a Bison just now. Would you like to eat with them?"

A fear settles in.

"I've never eaten with a pack before."

"Never?" He tilts his head to the side.

"All un-mated females were never allowed to eat with the pack. You had to be mated to eat with your pack."

"You're part of this pack, and you will eat with this pack." His voice is strong, and he holds a command within his sound.

I step backward.

"Are you afraid?" His eyes track the length of me.

"Yes,"

"Never be afraid to eat with your pack." He walks towards me, stopping right in front, so I have to look up into his eyes. His head bends low.

Cheek against cheek.

"We will eat with our pack. I want you to shift for this. They have sharp teeth but I think yours are sharper. Don't let them crowd you, don't let them smell fear, they will pounce on it." He's not talking to me but to the Wild within.

Getting undressed inside the tent, shifting from the cocoon of skin into the Wild the tent flap is held open. When she bounds out, she rushes him with tail wagging hellos.

A jump in the air, to run around the fire.

Excitement can't be disguised by our Nature.

He laughs, his smile stretches while he watches her.

A thought stops my mind, I like his face.

My ribs expand bigger, releasing the constriction against my heart.

The Savage does not break his cocoon of skin, he Mimics his Wild within. He can run like the Wild, growl as if he is a Wild.

Mastery of movement is within him as he approaches the kill in skin form.

An orchestral of snapping teeth, bristling blood-soaked fur great our arrival.

The sound the Savage makes ruffles up the air, he moves to be heard, his tone makes wolves shoulders hunch down the closer he gets to the kill.

The Wild watches him, keen eyes track what he does.

When he gets closer he exposes his teeth to the roots, his nose pulled back just as if he was in his Wild form.

The Savage does not make space for himself, space is made for him.

He does not have to shove shoulders to the side, he does not have to snap at shoulders, he just walks forward and eats. When he looks at me, blood drips from his chin.

He begins to hoard the monopoly of the kill for himself.

A growl that's directed at him has an instant reply action back, the wolf's shoulder opens up instantly, the sound comes from deep within the chest of the Savage that makes the offending wolf crouch down low, ears back and tail tucked in tight.

An apologetic whine comes from the wolf who begins to eat again once the Savage begins to eat the feast of food.

The Savage looks at us, displaying a row of sharp teeth full of the blood of the kill.

Tremendous arousal surges within us, at the sight of our mate so confident in who he is that he doesn't fear the pack, he rules the will of the pack in any form he chooses.

It's a slow approach as the Wild is holding her belly close to the ground, her teeth are exposed to the roots just like the Savages.

The violence of the pack hectors her approach.

She takes a swift bite to the shoulder as she bellies her way into the tight cluster of wolves that are snarling, snapping malignantly at one another.

No timidness can be seen because the meat will only be consumed by the un-timid.

A snap of teeth towards my Wild has her tearing into a shoulder, just like we saw the Savage do. She mimics his actions, she pretends to be him as she pushes herself to his side.

With a muzzle dripping in blood, the Savage nuzzles into her cheek with his.

Shoulder to shoulder the Savage and my Wild eat the meat brought down by others. We take more than our share, we take what we can hold up to the gullets of our throat.

Our bellies are bloated so full it brings the need for inaction to drop where we stand and let the meat digest while we sleep.

Once the meat settles itself the Savage and my Wild run together, swift, sure feet we both run, long and hard.

A great distance is covered in mere hours. He doesn't shift, he keeps the mastery of his Mimicking movements complete to the point, my Wild thinks of him as a Wild himself.

This thrills us, the elation is heard in her voice as she yips out in contentment.

The Wild's trust within the Savage is complete, without waver.

Throughout the summer the Wild hones the Savagery within her underneath the guidance of the Savage. She becomes made for the hunts, she grows confident with every kill, her mastery of herself and over the pack is complete by the time we pack up to go back to the Winter grounds.

Time moves the way time does, fast, slow and lingering in between.

The winter supply of food has been killed, collected with my left hand, packaged with the left. Nothing has been done with the right. The mastery of my left-hand feels so well trained that when the Savage throws something at me one day, I catch it with my left and he doesn't tie my right hand down any longer.

My ribs expand more from the pride he has for me.

The walk back is a test in sheer will. If we drop something on the trail, it means we don't eat that in the winter, if we shed the weight to make our walk back easier then we will go without in the long dark.

So with feet that sink into the ground from the pack on my back, there is a head down determination that pushes me forward, in a battle of mind over matter, a will not to ease my burden but overcome the weight of it.

A breath out when we reach our house, the front door flung open by me, my pack falls to the floor, shoulders burning, rubbed raw. A smile on my face to be home, I can't hide it. Everything looks bigger, not as small as before I left.

Looking into the room that Borson built for me, it's been painted with colors of my homeland, the flowers, trees of my Silks have come to life on the walls, everything is bursting with the image of where I have come from.

Happiness clutches the middle of my chest expanding my ribs opening myself up.

The beat of my heart is without restraint.

Turning to look out the front door the Savage is there looking at the skull.

He stares at her, I stare at him until he walks away to come in through the back door.

Author's Note

A snippet of the upcoming book Elska.

"What is this Mother?" Flowers have been rubbed into the paper that has wrapped the present. It's a special gift because my Father wouldn't take the time to pick the flowers to rub into the paper for me.

"It's in celebration of your first shift, Elska." My father's voice is beside my mother's.

"Open it." Mother's voice trembles like shaking hands she always tries to hide from me at night when she chooses to sleep in my bed because Father has made her angry again. Each time a layer of paper is pulled away a new scent of floral perfumes out. My Father always wraps up my presents carefully.

"What color is the paper?" Smoothing my hand over the texture.

"Golden," Mother shifts slightly on her feet.

"When the Sun is at the highest point in the sky? That Golden?" Waiting for the answer.

"Yes, Elska. I made sure the color matched the Sun." Odin smiles through his voice. I can tell because his words have curves to them on my skin.

"It's the first Silk I ever wore, it has been in our family for generations. Now it belongs to you, to pass down to your Females when their time comes." I can hear Odin and Ryeson shift on their feet.

Breathing. Sometimes they can breathe without being annoying. This is one of those times.