The crows laugh. . .
Power shifts all of my bones.
There are wobbles in my vision. Push and pull. My insides want to tear apart. Impossibly, I'm held still while everything internally tries to renegotiate space.
Infinite power surges in uninvited.
"Odin?" Victoria's voice is from far to near.
Neck to the Sun, a forced shift is happening—something I can't control. I'm without power. My bones are no longer in my control.
Melting.
The heat is impossible, forging—bubbling the marrow.
An unquiet tide engulfs everything. The ocean's roar is in my ears, except it's not the waves I hear but my blood flushing through me. Weak teeth crumble as new skin-side teeth push through the gum line.
...it's only pain.
A moment of suspension between Wild and Skin.
Molding.
A new alignment is forming. Jolting, pounding, hammering the sockets as if this is my first shift. Bones scrape. Skin swells and bloats. There needs to be more room to contain what is happening. Immeasurable power needs to be housed in a measurable body. I was never born for this—Charlie is. Breathe. It's only pain—but...
"Mother." I cry out for mercy.
It's impossible to endure this torture. There is no ebb, no flow of the pain. No end. Only pain. More pain. It's growing. Gaining strength—burying my breath. Everything old is being devoured, shifted, elongated—bones are taking a new direction, guided by an unknown smithing source. My neck still angles towards the Sun, a pure forge liquefies.
"Father," I scream out for salvation.
Ice fingers press into both my shoulders.
Mending.
The last hammering sounds of bones settling into their final resting place. The strain of ligaments is easing. Tempered. There is no more struggling of the body.
Forged.
A new power surges through the veins. The scorching heat against my neck releases me as quickly as it grabs my throat of life. I know one thing for sure — it was not the Moon's demonstration of power. Opening my eyes, the Sun beams down. Everything looks clear and straightforward. I know what I am.
Made.
I exist in my own space—a sharp silver end of the spearhead. I am the weapon.
"Odin?" Victoria's voice shakes.
"Odin..." Mother's voice is filled with fear.
I'm on my knees with my fingers curled into the dirt. My eyes shift to Victoria's. She steps backward as I stand. She takes another step back, almost tripping over her own feet. I breathe out, uncurling my shoulders. Feeling the strength of my spine. Everything is different. Looking around, all the wolves seem fragile and brittle-boned. It would be so easy to rid the world of my enemies.
Taking a step, the ground submits to the pressure, cushioning my feet.
My father's expression falters, as does Finian's. Greyson steps to his brother's shoulder—standing side by side.
I feel made out of pure silver, the worst weapon in existence. I know I am the worst to ever be.
My skin feels unnaturally thicker, indestructible. There's a smallness to the world now. I can go through anything, even the mountains. No more climbing. I will go through them. Nothing will be able to stand in my way. I've grown. Cracking my neck. Nothing in this world will be able to break my bones. Nothing.
Unleashing my sound. It's new, young. Unmanageable. All the wolves are thrown on their back. Nothing is standing. Treetops break off. Clouds move out of the way.
The Moon looks on in the distance. So does her Warrior mate. I start to laugh and laugh. My tongue runs over my new teeth—silver-sharp. I've never been this hungry. The only direction will be toward him. Nothing else will matter but him. The Moon's actual weapon.
"Come for me now. Come for me now!" My voice travels as if my lungs were gusts of air. I shout the invitation again with the delivery of the wind. The whirlwind of sound ruffles the grass and the leaves on the trees.
This is power.
Posturing with a purpose, I challenge them with my teeth exposed. The Warrior rocks on the balls of his bare feet. I point to his neck with my finger. I no longer need a spearpoint. My hands are weapons enough. I am enough. He drops his spear and stiffens his spine. War spreads across his face. The Moon places a hand on his chest that's puffed out. The Moon's stoic face betrays no emotions. She's ice—chiseled smooth.
"You both will fall," War-words speak to them with an explosion of thunder in the form of a dry storm. Both remain silent.
"You are the past. The future has arrived. You can't win against what's coming for you. My half will destroy you." I speak to the Moon directly. Her eyes hold to mine.
"You are already defeated." Smiling with my teeth.
Pure power flows outward.
"Do you feel it? The defeat?" I ask them in all the honesty I have inside my bones.
"You are but a blink in my time." The answer is from a frigid gust of wind.
"You have no more of your time left." Answering as if I am made of Far North ocean ice.
Their bodies disappear like shadows in the deep dark of night. Vermin. Scurrying away.
"Cowards." I control the storm wind through my breath. Nothing is worse than a turn-tail coward.
I can control Nature now.
Victoria is the first to rise, followed by Finian. Greyson, my father, mother, Shamus. Elska, at the treeline, comes forward, throwing off her veil. Her armor. Nose flared. Fingers spread. She trips but gets back up, running.
"Odin, you're different. What's happened now?" Victoria asks.
"Charlie has control over Nature. It's unimaginable." I regard my fists. They don't seem like they belong to me. But they are mine. Mother Wolf smiles with her sharp teeth—terrifying for all the wolves around that clear a space between her and themselves. Mother Wolf is the terror.
My father's breath catches in his throat with his neck towards my teeth. He can't get my name out of his neck. My mother bends her neck. The rest of the wolves follow her. Finian's neck is shown to my teeth. Everything has changed. Some wolves bend with Abomination coming from their mouths. Loyal to their last breath.
"Finian, you know what to do." As I regard the wolves with belligerence in their throats. I see Finian roam through the newly acquired wolves and weed out the defiant nonbelievers. He allows them to go to their Moon. Victoria watches with clear blue eyes, almost mimicking her daughter's color.
"Odin," my sister's voice hits my neck. Elska's fingertips are extended outward, and she touches my chest. Confusion confronts her face as she gently lifts the pads of her fingers to my face. Her chin adjusts and lifts.
"You're no longer Odin." Her voice trembles.
"I'm still your brother."
"No," she shakes her head.
"What am I?"
"Something else. I don't know. I've only smelled this with—" Her mouth clamps shut.
"With?" Giving her time to answer. She will answer.
"Charlie." Her name echoes in the air. Spreading out, covering the ground, bouncing back. Over and over again. Charlie.
"Your scents match now."
Cawing laughter from the crows says we are all fools. They laugh at us. Carrion-eaters. Let them eat each other. I think of the dead dark winter, the way the ice traces a track around the window seal, and I breathe through my exposed teeth. Midflight, they all drop like frozen stones from a high point on a ledge. When they land, the ground cushions the fall, and they retake flight.
"There are rules, Odinson." Green eyes blink blue. Nature's lips don't move. The wind is her voice.
"What does that mean?" I ask. There is no answer. She's gone.
Elska's ear is turned to the sound. Something between dread and worship slides over her face. I can see her veins start to fill with blood.
"Elska, you can smell Charlie?"
"Yes." Her face starts to crimson. She's still focused on the dead crows.
"Where is she?"
"I have a trade, brother. I will tell you where Charlie is. You will take Shamus away from me." Her scarlet face always gives her away.
"A trade?" I grip her neck so easily. So fragile. It would be nothing to hurt her. I don't. But sister or not, there are no trades to be made with me anymore.
"Where is she?" It's a low voice. The ones we used as young ones playing in the reeds as we hid from father. She stills for a moment, lost in the past. It was a trade she asked for to let her win our game. I took the trade even though I knew she needed to win without help. I can see all the emotions cross over her face as she realizes there is no more trade between us.
"She's in the East. There is a wood stove where she is at. It's small. There are few steps when she moves around inside her place. She smells of hardship and blood."
I let her neck go.
There is only one place where I can see she would go. The East cottage where she loves the ground. That will be our center. Our bulwark.
"What is the world doing, Elska?" No silk covers her face. She is visible to all of the Far East. To all of the wolves. A mixture of reverence and horror unfurls across their faces. This is what our enemies are up against. Elska. There is nothing that can be hidden from her. Nothing can stop her from seeing. The best trackers will be visible.
"They have burnt all the Healers loyal to the way of Nature. He has gathered more and more packs underneath his leadership. He tells his followers that the Moon has blessed him."
"Has he been blessed?" I ask.
"No, but that is what he is telling them. He has Seers. He knows everything. He knows who is not loyal to him. He has gathered the numbers, Odin. He has so many, and he's gathering more every day."
"His numbers mean nothing to me." Dismissing her concern.
"Odin, they are the weeds in the garden. You pull one out by the roots. More seem to find their way towards the sun." She visibly shivers.
"Remember, sister, when Father found out you could smell the weeds before they surfaced? We will weed them out before they have time to do any damage. We will pluck them out by their roots. We will kill their Seers first. Blind them. We will hunt this Movement and take the head. The Alphas will fall along with their Lunas. I will give the rest a choice: to accept the Future or die with the Past."
The word patience is forming in my head.
"Elska, when the Seers can hear you, make sure you tell them to come with everything they have because even then, it won't be enough. Let them all know that we will sail and finish off their bloodlines once they are defeated. They will no longer exist in the future." These wolves have no idea who they are now dealing with.
"Let them come!" I throw the words out as spearpoints directed towards the sea.
"Let them come!" It's Finian who throws his war-voice out. Victoria, my father, Greyson, join Finian's war sound.
My mother starts the war stomp, "Let them come!" Her voice follows the beat of sound that the females begin, mimicking my mother's body.
"Let them come." Wolves from all directions go in with the chant.
Let them come.
Let them come.
Let them come.
We are not cowards.
War cheers are thrown up to the sky. We know we have already won.
"Ryeson, bring me your mate, the Seer." There's a hesitation in him.
"I'm still your brother." I'm not sure he believes me, but he brings her. A bruise blooms along her neckline. His mark left for all the wolves to understand: she's his. Only his. Her feet drag, but she's brought forward.
"She has a name, brother." Elska seems upset.
"What is her name?" It's Ryeson, mouth full of the Seer's blood.
"A name in her pack of highest honor. Sunshyne."
"Sunshyne," Ryeson repeats it.
"Elska, can you train, Sunshyne?"
"No. She's too old to learn. All her senses are already developed."
"You could have been great," she remarks to my brother's mate.
"She's in pain," Elska observes.
"Leave her alone," a female from the crowd yells. Elska smiles with her teeth towards the warrior. Paley has a vice grip on her arm. War paint creates a predator image of a shark showing their teeth on the lower half of her face. The artistry is fearsome.
"Do you not want to know your mate's name?" Elska speaks with Paley.
"What's her name?" It's Keegan who asks. Elska is a hook, someone bit. I know her games.
"Ah, I know you care, Keegan. I can smell it. I won't say. Who will she tell her name to first?" Elska now reels them in. They have to learn how to fight against her war.
"What a dilemma, Paley." Elska taunts. Keegan, his twin, evaluates his brother.
"What will you tell her?" Elska's words are the sharpest I've ever heard from her mouth. They are meant to make someone hurt—the way you have to pull a porcupine quill out from the skin. She reminds me of our mother.
Paley remains silent. He considers her with hostile eyes for more than a minute. The war-mate studies what is before her, and then she looks toward his twin.
Shamus steps beside my sister. "Look at me, cousin. Not her. Me." Shamus is drenched in the blood of the Alpha. I'll allow this to play out. We need sunshine on everything. No more shadows.
"This complicates everything, doesn't it?" My sister does not relent.
"What complicates things?" Keegan steps forward. He's shifting his eyes from my sister to his twin brother.
"You already know, Keegan. Listen to your gut. It should be screaming at you right now."
Keegan roots himself to face his brother. They are eye to eye. Jaws clenched. Fists ready.
"That's enough." It's Paley who looks away from his brother's judgment.
"No, it will never be enough," Elska whispers as a lover would. The way her teeth show is not of someone in love. It's of someone who is signaling for war.
Paley's mate turns her teeth-painted face to watch the brothers. Each twin is inspected critically.
With a dismissal of the twins, she opens her mouth towards Sunshyne, "Are you alright?"
Sunshyne shakes her head no.
"She's in heart pain." Elska addresses Paley's mate.
"It's not fair to be marked that way. Not in love, but in ownership." Speaking to both females.
"My brother is a good male. He has never caused me hardship. I hope that comforts you."
"It doesn't." She finally says.
"I know. Everything good has been taken from you. Nothing can undo that." Elska's sound drifts far away. She's statue still. No more words form from a closed mouth.
She had thrown away her silk veil. Nothing can shield her tears, her bowed head, her curled shoulders. She picks her way through the crowd.
Elska needs a moment to herself. This is her way. I leave her to the way she knows.
"We need to go to Charlie now," I speak with my voice, but is it my voice that commands out? It seems the same but different.
It's time for me to face My Half.
No more shadows.
If anyone is interested in reading about the first intersection of Kalla/Paley, please go to my bio. Sign up for the monthly newsletter. Enjoy bonus chapters from the Wildflower series and the Tribute Series. More to come.
Presses my cheek to yours
Rachelle.