How do you fight the Moon?
The King has fallen to a God.
The world is gathering, surrounding the Northern hemisphere on all side, crushing, strangling the land in a tight noose.
All they demand is Charlie's head. The female Alpha born from two alp...
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We breathe back together, and this is our baseline.
The reality of Odin's mind now is mine.
With every exhale, his quiet, warm breath against my neck slides over the skin, enraging all the other parts that don't get to feel what his body can offer mine.
I can peer into his soul and comprehend the intensity of his passion and the depth of his emotions.
My mind harvests his — every thought, every feeling, nothing is counterfeit.
Memories and visions shift and twist like the Borealis in the northern sky. He's five, catching frogs with his father with one hand. Pride reflects in his father's eyes. Odin's chest puffs out. He will feed his family. He's ten hunting with a real spear next to his Uncle. The animal has teeth and claws. Odin has never felt more potent than laying the carcass at his mother's feet. He's alone in a cave, half-starving and cold but sweating as he's about to shift for the first time. All he can think about is that he wants his dad.
My scent is on the wind as he approaches my father's pack. He knew his mate was there. He knew. He saw me getting chased, instinct took control, and the wave of protectiveness consumed everything else. Protect at all costs. He wasn't prepared for the look of disgust on his father's face. It's the first time in Odin's life that he has been a disappointment to his father.
Odin couldn't kill me that night as I lay sleeping, but he wanted to. Odin couldn't look away when my blues suddenly blinked, but he wanted to. Odin saw my fear; he couldn't get the taste off the thick part of his tongue, but he wanted to. His hand shook for the first time while holding a knife. He couldn't plunge the sharp point into my throat, but he wanted to. I feel how much he wanted to. Odin couldn't get me out of his mind and couldn't stay away, but he wanted to. He fights for his breath because I still had mine. Odin couldn't have a life without me, but he wanted to. Odin couldn't hate me, but he wanted to.
I blink, fighting for breath as new images amplify from an invasive mind within mine.
Odin screams himself raw in the forest because I am his mate. Clutching the dirt in his hand as if he needed something to grab onto because he felt betrayed by the Moon. What has he done to deserve this?
Another memory catches my eye: a green gem on a long neck. There are no rules about looking, Odin. His eyes scanned his Breeder's cleavage, and he's been caught looking at the full-grown female that arouses him. She tells him I will honor you at my table whenever your stomach feels empty. I will feed you. Temptation pitches back and forth until he walks away, saying, I have rules for myself.
Odin runs for hours and hours. He doesn't stop. He can't stop. He runs for a glimpse of me before turning around and returning home. He has to absorb the pack's stomach-churning looks. He needs to get used to this, he tells himself.
One day, Odin is spitting blood and trying to breathe with cracked ribs. He keeps repeating that he will be stronger than my father. He chants it over and over again. One day, I will be stronger than Finian. Yet to my mother, he nods. Keeps a wide stance always — but she's not what he's heard she is. Cracks start. He's been told one thing, but it's not true.
