Rite of Submission - Rite 1

Prologue

                Kalliope watched the three cubs, their laughter bouncing off the walls, as they scampered down the hall to play. None of them knew that it would be the last time they would see each other for many years and she didn't have the heart to tell them. They were all so young and innocent still. None of them deserved the future that had been decided for them.

"She'll be fine," Giorgos grunted, carrying in an armful of boxes. "You know that this is what has to be done to secure our safety, not just hers. Besides, she's so young she probably won't even remember them after we settle in."

She continued to watch them until they disappeared down another corridor. None of them would ever truly be safe if her brother found out what they'd done. All she wanted was to stay hidden and off of his radar. It was too late to take back any of it now. The papers had been signed and she couldn't bring back the dead. She could just try and make sure she didn't join them in the ground.

She tried to put on a cheerful smile and pretend she believed her mate, "So you've been to the house?"

"It's a good house," his smile dropped as his nose scrunched up in that cute way she adored when he disliked something, "we'll be surrounded by humans, but it seems like a good quiet neighborhood."

"Living amongst humans isn't a bad thing," she shrugged, "at least they won't be able to sniff out anything that could be detrimental to our lives. "How far from the territory line will we be?"

He looked up from the box he was trying to tape together, "It'll be several blocks, but they're making a special patrol to keep her safe, but we aren't likely to see anyone from the pack. They don't want a target on her back and risk losing her to another pack."

She chewed on her lower lip, a nervous habit that betrayed her unease, making her mate frown. "No one is going to look for us on this side of the world. We're safe here. Your bastard brother can't make a move against us here even if he found us; not without starting a war."

"What will we tell her?"

"Nothing," Giorgos stalked across the room and pulled her into his arms, the only place she truly felt safe. "She doesn't need to know about any of this. She can have a boring, normal life until she comes of age. With the stipend they're giving us, she'll never want for anything. When she actually needs to know about any of this, she'll be a Luna. Tell me one little she-wolf that doesn't dream of being whisked away by some big strong Alpha to be his Luna?"

She couldn't help the soft sigh that escaped her lips from the memories of just such a fantasy that had brought them together. Their pack was gone now, and they narrowly escaped the slaughter themselves. "Our daughter will forgive us won't she? One day we'll be able to tell her why it had to be this way?"

The scruff of his beard scrapped against her cheek as he bobbed his head up and down. "I pray for that every night before I close my eyes, and again in the morning when I open them." He gave her a tight squeeze, holding her against his chest. "We can pray together for now on," he promised.

They stood consoling each other for a long while before he cleared his throat, "If we want to take any of this with us, we need to get packing. Once we leave tonight, we won't be coming back until it's time for the mating ceremony." He released his hold and placed a kiss on her forehead.

He was right. Their time was rapidly running short to collect their belongings. They'd been able to escape with so little and she refused to leave any of it behind. It'd also be easier to get their little girl settled into her new life. Her attachment to the twins would be hard enough to break so suddenly, the least they could do was make sure she had the comfort of familiar things around her.

Swallowing her own discomfort and blocking out her fears she set to filling one of the boxes her mate had taped together. She'd make her daughter understand and forgive her some day. For now they were all hidden and safe. This was not the life she thought she'd have, but at least she would have a life to live.