The Blood Red Path

Who Am I, Finian?

Odin

The skreel of an angry hawk breaks the soundlessness of the muted world. 

My bones protest the look coming off of Finian — he's all teeth that want to eat. 

"I never did this to your daughter, I did not do this to my half." Standing at my completed height, shoulders back — teeth hungry. Facing Finian in the grey of his eyes. 

"I believe you,"  Finian says, with clarity.

"You showed Victoria the respect she deserves. She fought well, you fought smarter." Finian's fists drip the blood from my father's body, while mine drip the blood of his mate. 

I nod to Finian who seems more wolf than skin. 

"I've killed the world's leaders, their Lunas and most of the healers. The Far North is a third of what it used to be. I've started the migration back to the very beginning. We don't have the numbers but we have the power. I'm taking control of the hemisphere, Finian. It's time. Our enemies are coming."

Finian tilts his head, eyes calculating, "there will be blood."

"There will be blood, no greater honor than bleeding for my half." 

Finian nods to me and I understand that this will be the final time we will bleed against the other. 

"Let us do this properly this time, Finian." He is not the bear, he will not wear out. 

A clawed finger points at the center of my neck — eyes murderous, "let us, Odin." When he stretches out his spine, there is a mimicking of mine. 

My father and mother rise, each holding onto each other, mixing their blood. My mother stomps her foot on the ground, another stomp, another stomp, my father follows her lead. The sound, a rising beat of hearts, pounding, pounding inside a chest. Others join in, the sound growing louder, stretching outward. Some of the females from the North join the Far North in the song of Ascension. 

"Show all of us who you are, Odin." It's my father's voice I hear but it's the swaying wisps of the Wilds eyes I feel all pressed and watching. Silent sentinels. 

Blues extend into mine, cold and miserable. No warmth. It feels as if the center of my bones are leaking out and away with the ruin and rot my half now thinks me to be. 

"I am taking control of everything until my half understands who she is." Making sure to speak to everything, but more to those blues that are starting to leak the smell of the sea into the dirt of the world. The Moon's tears are what made our Oceans, and I fear my half's tears might drown the world. 

"What happens if your half does not want to take control." Finian's voice is a dash of air that springs out from his mouth. He's not moved but I feel the violence through the shifting of his skin. 

"I've marked Charlie and I understand that she is afraid of the want, the greed. She's terrified of herself. You've raised a wolf when you should have been raising the next Moon." 

"The only thing I am guilty of is trying to give my daughter a simple life surrounded with love." The crack in Finian's voice is felt inside my half's chest that is starting to heave. She's trying to roll over, on her stomach but remains belly up — throat exposed. 

A pattern is emerging from the feet that are stomping on the ground, three quick beats, a slow beat, it's riling the Wilds.

A shocking burst of pain engulfs the meat around my thigh., Finian's always been much faster than I have given him credit for. It's important to gauge the bulk of Finian, which will shift on bones before he springs.