Odin's Prize

The Standard Of Hierarchy

Morvared is coming to stand a few inches away, the Wild's eyes also hold her for a calculate minute, telling the Healer she holds no fondness for her either.

Odin has no control over her, his attempts at pulling the forward motion of her back is useless. She will not budge on the path she wants to mark with blood. A show to all other's that she has arrived.

When Odin stands between his father and the Wild he does something that holds her vision, he shows his unmarked neck to her. Within that moment of observation, all her other intentions stop to focus now on a much better prospect.

The Nature of Love taking control now, her teeth display towards Odin, looking at his neck, exactly where her mark will display her Claim on him. She alters her course from the Alpha towards Odin who is backing up, before turning to sprint away from the clearing. The Wild is in pursuit of a mate who is teasing her. He runs, full out, but so does she, her body streamlining against the wind.

The run is hard, long; he doesn't make it easy on her. His momentum is much easier to turn and twist away while she always has to right herself. This is not playtime; this is a chase for her. At the end she expects to hold Odin in her jaws, letting his blood leak down her throat while she binds herself to him. For Odin's part he's without exhaustion, keeping up the hard pace, he does not tire, he does not falter he just goes on and on, until the Wild loses track of him.

Disappearing, even the blood trail we were on has stopped leaking. Nothing but the voice of Nature to guide us home, nose to the ground searching for just a hint of the dark soil that only his scent can bring us.

The door has been left open when going back to her home. Her fight has been exhausted out of her. The run has taken all of the morning, consumed the afternoon and now the sun is setting in the distance.

With a weariness the Wild yields to me finally, the shift is fast and efficient while entering the house. Odin is on the couch holding a cloth to his forearm that's soaked in the blood of him. He diverts his eyes, not looking while I walk past him into the bedroom.

When coming out in a tank top with a skirt, he's packed more skirts that I never even knew I owed. The wood stove is blazing up, the crack of wood being consumed in fire gives off the only sound in the space.

Odin's legs are spread, with his elbows resting on his thighs, he's looking out the window, not meeting my eyes.

"We need to leave here, Odin." He doesn't reply just closes his eyes as if he's in pain.

"Odin, look at me, we need to leave. We can go back to my pack, my father will welcome you, your mother, sister brother, Uncle and anyone else can come with us. This is not right."

Odin still doesn't meet my eyes, he just continues to stare out the window at the darkening sky. He blinks a few quick times, a hard swallow down.

"I always knew I would loose it, my Honor." His tone of voice isn't as fierce. Isn't as strong.

"Why did you know you would lose it?"

"Because you're my mate, Charlie. I knew it the minute I came home from your birth-pack with the news you still lived. He told me he would take it away, he always told me, I just didn't expect it to be like that, in front of you." His head hangs down before he picks it up again to look anywhere but me. He looks as if he's in great distress, great pain within himself that cause a slight bile to rise inside my stomach to burn with acid inside my throat.

"You could have stopped him, you could have done something?" Approaching the radius of Odin, getting into his space on bended knees.

Ancient greens regard me with unfiltered agony, "he's my father."