Odin's Prize

Our Sacrifice

Disclaimer there is triggering scenes in this chapter. It's the claiming ceremony of Odin's Prize. If you don't want to read what happens to Charlie during this, please skip this chapter.

Sway

The drums pulse...

Feet Stomp

Odin stands bare facing the gathering. The canvas of his skin shines. I can't help looking at all the tattoos that are shifting effortlessly around his body. Is it because he's shaking so bad or can he feel the music like I can?

All of his hair has been shaved off, and when he bows his head to me I can see my eyes regarding me. They seem to look hard, challenging and I flash fang at them for the provocation they bring. When his eyes find mine again I realize the Moon now has to see those eyes resting on top of My Half's head.

Odin's hand stretches out for me.

Slow motion vision tries to keep up with the twisting dancing bodies on all sides of me along the path forward. Great billowing clouds of grey-white smoke veil the clearing in the saturation of sage.

The scent clings to everything.

Torches try to trap me with the visions of flames that are stretching themselves up to the darkening sky.

The full Moon shines...

A rumble disturbs the air from far above...

Thick slate rocks stacked overtop the other leads the stairway upwards to My Half.

Pine trees sway in the wind that's fanning the flames sideways. Crows gathering in caws that only enhance the chanting of the wolves dressed in furs, who beat against the drums.

Inhale

Exhale

Breathe

Eyes are on my skin that is covered with ink, I feel fully covered by his canvas of art.

Further up I ascend, the shadows creep closer, whining out and this time I can understand what the Wilds are saying, help us...

A falter in my step as I look at the shifting air to the sides of me. I almost fall backward with an inability to move forward.

Massive amounts of eyes from within the deep forest focus on me as if I am their savior...their Moon...

"I have honored myself, my pack, and my mate." Odin addresses the pack who sways as one body. Unfamiliar faces in the crowd, some have undilated eyes and they don't sway with the other wolfs, they stand rigid, unaffected by the atmosphere.

Shamus's eyes find mine, a paleness glistens over his skin that still holds bruises on his face. He looks to be sick. He only is focusing on my eyes, his vision never wavering down. His jaw tightens, while tears come down his face, why would he be crying?

When standing at the top of the stairs Odin reaches for the ring in my nose pulling me harshly by the silver that makes me stumble from the roughness of his touch.

A cry escapes out then soothes down when his cheek nuzzles into mine.

Skin against skin

The sharp edge of silver slices into the rise of my cheekbone creating a second line down my face. A small white fur with stinging cool heat is applied.

The blood stops when he pulls it away. There is a pride that consumes Odin's face when he looks at my markings.

A breath of relief from him.