Her eyes try to maul into mine.

"Elska, you need to leave." The Savage stands so I am on his right, shoulder to shoulder.

Shaken

Disbelief

Dangerous

Her eyes tell her tales while my body remains motionless from hearing her name come from his lips.

The wind is ruffling the leaves - the sounds become faint, dull compared with the thundering of my heart. The handle of the ax tightens in her grip to cause the knuckles to go white.

"Tell me you don't love me? I need to hear it!" This female's sound holds pain; she seems wounded. All I can think about is it's time for me to put her out of her misery. That would be compassionate. I hold no kindness, but I still can be sympathetic towards the wounded that can't be healed.

"You have to go." The Savage doesn't answer her question.

"She's my mate." His voice holds painfully steady.

"What about us?" Her jaw shifts to hold her cry inside a mouth that is straight lined with the slightest curve downward. Tears form to pool out dripping down rounded cheeks.

"There is no more us." The Savage's voice is without a bend.

Steady

Strong

No wavering.

She grips her gut with the other hand, trying to take in choking lungfuls of air.

"You won't be able to love him better than me." Her testament makes me cringe.

"I don't plan on it." Throwing my promising voice into the air directly at chest height. Does my sound poke into flesh, cartridge, and bone that surrounds her heart? The passion of hatred spreads across her face, and I know I touched her in the way I wanted to.

"This is for you, so our fight is fair." The ax is thrown hard, sinking its blade in front of my right foot, the miss was intentional. She understands the art of blades.

"When I send you to the Moon, and you are standing in judgment of your mate's eyes, you tell him - no one can love his brother more than you can." A ruffling of ridge fur shifts itself upwards. Silver slides back into it's hidden spot in the folds of silk.

The Wild within is flexing her sound out to establish how the Natural order of things will be.

Posturing the smile of teeth, the flash of fang her way only puffs her up to full standing height of her maturity.

Laceration of vision tears into the other.

Jealousy's scent mingles...

"We have to accept this, she's my mate." The Savage stands stronger.

The female lunges towards me, violence travels fast.

"Stop." A tremor seduces the Wild within from the Alpha that has risen up in his volume. She trips over her feet and stops instantly.

"Go home, now." The octave of sound that has my legs shake, while she tucks her shoulders in with a startled whimper.

"Bessa in the house." His tone reflects his hardness, I keep my eyes on her backing up letting the Wild within flash fang in a genuine threat that this has not come to a conclusion yet.

He doesn't come in until she blends into the darkening forest.

As soon as I hear the click of the door lock, I turn my back to him, preferring to lay in the corner, just trying to breathe regularly. It's impossible because my silent cries hurt my lungs.

He doesn't speak, but I can hear the heaviness of his breathing that comes out in gasps at times when my cries are quietly straining out.

"You've ruined everything."

"I know." His truth spreads around the empty shell of this house, echoing off the bare walls.

Closing my eyes, they burn...

The Savage stocks the fire, the crackles and splitting of the logs now consume the inside noise, to push everything else into descending darkness.

It doesn't take long to relax, crying has a natural way to make you relaxed enough to sleep.

Not opening my eyes yet, listening to the sound of a low burning fire that must have been feed sometime during the night that I didn't wake up to. There is no smell of breakfast, no aromatic scent of tea that is being sipped. It's just the lingering whiff of logs being eaten away by fire.

Swelled

Heavy

Bruised

My eyelids feel the pain of last night.

He's not here, I can't detect his heartbeat, and I breathe that long breath out.

It's no use trying to will myself back to sleep, that part of the night is over for me and the new day has arrived. All I have to do is get over this day, and the next day and to carry myself on.

Turning on the tap, the water is cold that I put into a castiron pot only to set it on the stove. Rummaging through the chest, my mother sent to me.

The Silks folded perfectly.

Between each dress, there are treasures hidden, loose leaf tea...some of my favorites. The teapot is next to discover along with the cups to go with it. My great grandmother's that's been passed to the oldest granddaughter. Putting it in the sink the outside is pristine, the inside holds the dark stain of many years of use.

When the water is hot enough, I pour the liquid over the steel ball that holds just a pinch of dried tea leaves - letting it steep thoroughly until I am sure all the flavors are leeched out.

The first sip is quiet, swallowing down what I always took for granted. The flavors of my home, the tea of my mother. Why didn't I pay more attention to the things I will be missing the most...

Abruptly the door opens, which startles the air current around the space that has nothing to stop its movement. I fix the veil to cover my face.

Eyes greet eyes...

He puts the dead animals on the counter, animals I have no idea the names too. There are several rodents in his pile...I've never eaten mice before.

I want to ask him so bad if he talked with her, seen her, was with her. I don't this time because I don't want to ruin the taste that's in my mouth.

"Knife." His hand stretches out to mine, sliding the silver from the folds that keep them secure, I give him the weapon carefully not to touch his skin. It doesn't work when the very tips of our fingers touch. A smooth current of heat assaults the very core of my body, a tremor of legs, a breath that's not controlled escapes out. I'm not sure if he touched me on purpose or if I just wasn't been careful enough.

Eyes meet eyes.

His dilate, are mine doing the same because I can feel the blood in me expanding through engoring veins.

"Why the mice?" Backing away from the space of him.

"In a few months, we will be thankful to have these." He doesn't look at me, making quick work of gutting the vermin. He stuffs their hollowed out cavities with herbs before placing them in a bag and putting them in the icebox.

The other animals are skinned, with more thought. Saving the fur to the side.

"Do you have anything warm in that chest?" He nods to where the wooden box sits."

"I have my Silks, the tea my mother sent me. A few knives of my father. A tea set. My jewelry, and face paint. That's what it holds."

He shakes his head. "Do you have shoes, boots anything for the winter?"

"No, I have nothing. You took me away too fast to pack properly." Watching his hands he's a skilled butcher, but the knife slips slightly, and he cuts his finger once my words are out.

"It had to be done that way, I told you."

"You did and in doing that you have forever shamed my family's lineage. A Luna price that was never paid in trade. My family, their family, their descendants will shoulder that debt forever with no hopes of repayment."

"I told you that I would be sending payments to them. They don't want your gold or silver they want your army."

"Our army is not for trade, no matter what." The last animal is skinned. His hands are washed before the beat of his heart pulls closer to me. There is nowhere to go, trapped in the corner.

"What are you doing?" Asking when he bends down, the muscles on his back, coil and bunch together. His hand grabs my foot bringing it out from the cover of silk.

"I need to make your boots; I need the size of your feet." His fingers circle my ankle; a need to pull my flesh from him strains with the need for his hand to stay precisely where it is.

Looking away purposely because my eyes are parasitic traders, they want to crawl all over his skin to feed off of his flesh. The pad of his thumb skims from toe tip to the arch of my foot until he stops at the sole of my foot. He does it to the other one, and I have to squeeze my thighs together because a warm heat has traveled from his touch to hold hotly into the space between my legs.

I feel as if I have wet myself.

Inhale, exhale...

Breathe...

"That's not my foot," trying to pull away from where his palm has curved around my calf.

"The boots will be high to protect your legs," his grip remains firm on the flesh of my lower leg. His nose is so close that I feel at times the tip might have brushed against my shin bone. There is no hesitation to him, the length of skin is entirely handled while I try to recuperate my voice.

Nothing comes out but a soft, subtle expelling of air.

I can feel the weight of his hand on me...I can't swallow, everything tightens up.

His back is exposed to me as I look down on him. He remains wearing the loincloth that I can see is tight tightly just below his hip bone. Tattoo patterns flourish and weave themselves together on the shell of his skin.

His muscles are bunching, twisting, flexing themselves over the expanse of his back as the shudders of his body affect the movement of animals captured in their fierce pose of teeth.

A small tree captures my attention, it's in bloom - white with a hint of pink buds is unfurling.

It stands oddly out, surrounded by carnivores.

"Why the tree?"

He stills, holding his breath.

I touch the tree, tracing the outline of branches. His hand comes off me, and for a moment I want to ask him to touch me again...but the moment passes silently.

"It's beautiful." The words are spoken with a reverence - this is real art. My mother can create art like this with the Loom...her tapestries are traded for from around the territories. A heart pain hurts with the thought of never seeing her newest creations again. I feel a nuzzle of a cheek on silk that is pressed against my upper thigh. Looking down, the Savage pulls away with a look of confusion on his face.

"The Singer of the Moon drew it." His confusion remains on a face that pulls my eyes towards.

"I don't know what that is, Singer of the Moon?"

"He's our spirit guide, he singers our prayers up to the Moon herself. He is the one that tattoos everyone here. He will do your tattoos as well."

"Will he? Can he do anything I ask for?"

"Yes, anything."

"Even animals?" Making my question sound innocent, trying desperately to hide the intention of thought to have that females head on my body...

"As long as you killed it yourself, then yes you can hold it on your skin." That cheers me up, something to look forward to.

"What kind of tree is that?" My vision back to beauty in a sea of teeth and symbols.

"It's called Rose Hip, we make jams and tea from the small fruit it bears. It prevents the winter sickness from taking over your bones." He shuts his mouth after that, it's held tight, rigid...his heartbeat moves away again, so he's across the room.

"Why do you have that on your body? It looks odd, out of place." My eyes don't leave his because he's uncomfortable.

"It's a long story." He starts to clean the knife of the blood and guts that cling to the blade.

"I think we have time for a story." He dries off the handle and hands it back to me.

"You won't like the story I'll tell." His heartbeat is beating rapidly, and now mine is too.

Eyes meet eyes...

Leaning against the wall, I need the support.

Silence, he can't start his story, his words won't come out of his mouth.

"Tell me, I need to know."

"We've always gathered Rose Hip together." I put my palms against the wall to stop myself from sliding down.

His eyes don't leave mine. His chest expanding quickly before he speaks again. "That tree is special."

"Why so special?"

"It has meaning." His voice drops. If it has meaning why the wayward tone of him?

"What meaning?"

"Don't Bessa, it's not important anymore."

"It's important to me. I have to know it all."

"It's where she told me she loved me, the first time." The air seems to be thinner, there is a tingle to my toes and fingers with the lose of oxygen my body seems starved for.

"Did you say it back?" Exploding words out.

"Not right away but a few weeks later I did. I took her back to the tree and told her I loved her too. The next year I had the tree tattooed there." Tears hurt to shed, I don't want him to see it, but I can't help the way they fall all by themselves.

"Did you save any space for me?"

"Here." He points just above his heart, the smallest patch of skin is saved. The tree consumes a vast majority of the side of his ribcage while the space above his heart is small.

"I want you to ink that space black. I don't want anything on your body that honors me. I'm without honor to you. I have no place on your body."

"I won't do that," he sounds upset, who is he angry with? Me or himself?

The silver slides easily into my palm, the sharp blade reflecting the light of the sun that's not hindered by any drapes.

Our windows are bare.

"I'm cutting the tree off your body, then you are going to take me to that tree, and I am going to cut it down."

He turns his body, angling his flank towards me. It's a natural cut, the silver so sharp that I don't know if he feels any pain as the thick layer of skin comes off. The blood is too much for the loincloth to absorb, his thighs hold the trail of red to puddle on the floor.

Opening the front door, I throw his skin on top of the pile that holds the rest of his shit.

"Is there any other tattoos that I need to get rid of."

Silence

Blood seeps between his fingers, trying to hold the pressure to stop the flow, it's useless silver makes you bleed hard and fast.

He turns his neck to me, in the hollow of his throat where marks of mates go is a flower that holds her eyes. I stumble backward and fall down. The handle of the blade is clenched even harder than the way my teeth are.

"Why did you even look for me? Why bring me here?" The knife is pointed at his throat as I stand up. I can see myself puncturing flesh to kill something that I have been waiting for my entire life...

"It was required of me, I had no choice." I press the handle into his hand that's covered in blood.

"Be merciful, show me your kindness and throw my body in the rubbish pile." Bringing his hand up to my throat, so the blade touches my flesh with a burn.

"Please do it." Closing my eyes, "have mercy on me. You can do it, you can be with her. I will never be what she is to you. I will never be something to be loved or cherished, ever." There is a tremor of his hand as he pulls the blade away from my neck to put against his, with a quick motion, he slices the layer of skin off to fall on the floor with the knife that he no longer holds.

He bleeds...but I feel as if I somehow have lost all the blood inside me without a wound to my flesh.

"Take me to the tree." It's barely spoken, more of a seethe wisp of air. If I see that female on my path, I am going to gut her from hipbone to throat. Pulling the ax from where the blade buried itself deep into the ground. He leads me not very far to a tree that holds no blooms but small red fruit. They litter the tree with the bounty of the fall harvest.

We aren't here to harvest anything.

"Is it now you would be picking these fruits?"

"Yes, after we come back from the summer grounds. The fruit of these trees is ripe." I hit the truck with my weight in the swing of the handle.

Bark flies off, I hit it again and again until it falls. Grabbing the end of it, dragging it back to the house takes three times as long to get there.

A crowd has gathered around again to watch me place the tree on top of the pile...can shit reach the sky? I feel there is no stopping the growth of his garbage.

It's then I see her in the distance, leaning up against the tree. Her nose, cheek pressed into the back. With the strength that comes with rage I throw the ax at her, it digs deep into the bark.

"You're going to need this back, we need to keep it fair." Making my voice a wall of volume as teeth descend. Instead of running towards her, instead of tearing into her throat the Wild breaks herself free. She rips the silk I'm wearing to push out of the hard cocoon of skin.

She meets her soul for the first time. He stumbles himself back, unable to stop the sway of his body.

Nose peels back to reveal her teeth.

The quiver is without stop, hind legs digging into the ground that feels hard, cold underneath thick paws.

She makes her leap, latching onto his exposed neck to sink her mark deep into the flesh of his skin that's been peeled off.

A tingle of emotions flutters in..pain is what we feel from the bond that's starting to weave itself within the lenght of a spine to travel into our consciousness. Another consciousness beginning to shift itself within me.

A moan now of pleasure when he holds the Wild to his bare chest. She doesn't let go right away, she's making sure he understands who he belongs to now...