Ancient greens rimmed with blood devour into the layering of my skin. 

"Odin, what does the pack sacrifice for you?" The sight of him falters. His mouth opens to say something, but no words come out. A furrowed line etches into his forehead, the hinges of his jaw shifts as he clamps his molars down. 

Now it's his turn for that silence that digs into your spine as each passing second rolls into the next without being able to say anything. 

Churning, drowning emotions of confliction are hammering the inside of Odin.

He doesn't stumble backward, but he does feel the words hitting his center. 

Once again those eyes pin me, hold me hostage with an undeniable force of his Nature.

"Tell me, Odin, what does your pack sacrifice for you?" A step is taken into my radius - devouring my lengthening shadow as the sun starts to dip in the evening sky. 

"They allow me to have you, that's their sacrifice to me." What he just said he believes.

Now it's my turn for a moment of silence while Odin's fingertips slide down the plain of my skin, causing a flexing roll of the muscles in my bicep. 

"If they wouldn't allow you to have me, what would you do?" My words brush against his ear because his lips are pressed against my neck. The musculature of him is also shifting underneath my open palm that rests along his shoulder blade. 

"Then we would have a problem, wouldn't we?" His words are hard, yet his tongue is soft tasting the scent on my neck. 

A breathless shudder.

Whispering heat trails across the collarbone, down my sternum to rest in the deepness of my belly.  

"What kind of problem?" Needing to know what he would do.

"I wouldn't have a pack would I?" He nips sharp teeth against the skin, before pulling my wrist up to his mouth, kissing the pulse of me. When he lets go of my wrist, I let it drop at my side. Odin steps away because there is a burn within him - so consuming I can feel it flushing my skin.

"What will I sacrifice to you, Odin?" Straightening his shoulders, he stands to his full completed height. 

"I'm going to demonstrate what will happen, so you have a clear understanding of what is expected of us." Odin steps within the radius of my shadow. The sun is lowering itself in the sky. A hand placed on my hip; his legs sweep my feet from underneath.

A startle of reflexes.

 There is no danger of falling, Odin has me in his arms. With a deliberate gentleness, he lays me down on the rock - the stone is cold while my surface is warming up with the way Odin regards me on his knees.

A thumb on my jawline, his index finger rests on the opposite side, he turns my head to face the unfinished stone carving. 

Scorching desire consumes him on such a primitive uncontrollable level. 

Canines are descending when he looks at my neck.

"This is what will happen underneath the Full Moon." Viper strike, teeth on my neck, exactly where the mark of him will hold. He doesn't break through flesh, at the same time, he positions himself over top of me. 

He hovers over me.

With a liquid flow of boneless movement, he flips me over, gripping my sides. I'm on hands and knees; he's on his knees behind me. 

A low moan is heard in the base of his throat, devouring emotions plunders his self-imposed restraint. The snaps within him are breaking.

I begin to panic.

Nails are out now, clawing into the rock that I can't get a grip on.

Panic

Trying to pull away from him the first terrified scream comes out, the crows on the branches watching flapping their wings, clapping their beaks. The two ravens make throaty sounds but do not let their feathers fluff up. Twisting, turning in his grip, I can't break his solid hold. My eyes are stuck on the carving of the wolf head at the Altar site.

Panic

I'm beginning to suffocate, lips tingling, vision starting to blur another scream coming out, Odin stops his movement, retracting his nails from my skin. Clawing myself away, I can feel my nose running.

Panic

Holding my chest, I'm trying to calm down while creating as much space apart as I can make.

"Never, that will never happen." Pointing a claw at his throat, my words hurtling so hard he looks as if he is in physical pain.

Nothing moves - the gawking crows are even quiet. Odin stands himself straight, shoulders back, head held high.

A betrayal of sound is between us, silence in this clearing holds a sinister feeling to it.

He takes a step towards me, "don't." It comes out shaky now, like the way my knees feel. 

For all the pride and passion he held in this place is now trickling out of him, no more pride, no more passion, once again there is a battle inside him that is twisting his beliefs up. 

"Don't be afraid, Charlie. It will be quick; you won't feel or remember anything." His words are spoken without the belief in them. I can tell they don't hold the fortitude it once did. 

He retakes a step towards me, "don't." A little more forceful with my words. 

"No Luna has ever not sacrificed to their, Alpha." His wording gentle with open palms turned my way as if trying to calm down a caged animal. 

"I, am, no, Luna!" A few birds almost drop from their perch, the voice that I don't recognize powers out of a throat that is burning with power.

 I've never felt this before, the rush of it burns white hot into my skin. Shoulders are pulling back, head held high - a malignant snarl forces its way up and out, echoing around. The tree-tops bend as if a gust of wind has hit them. 

Odin's body shakes, quivers, his knees are bending - a hand goes to the ground, yet he's refusing to bend. A bitter bile that even I can taste is coming out of his mouth, his stomach heaving with the force he's under. 

Gritting his teeth, "I am no, Luna." He straightens himself up, shoulders back, head held high.

Green vs. Blue.

Unsteady hands, with a shaking heart and heavy breathing, this is what I feel. 

His vision doesn't waver from mine.

There can only be one, Alpha.

He rises within himself, his eyes bore into mine, an unfurling of that dark power starts to unwind itself. The deep soil scent of him surrounds me, twining up my legs, weaving around my belly, climbing upwards in choking vines to wrap around my throat. A pulverizing blow has me step backward; my eyes shift off of his just for a beat of a second before refocusing.

"You are not the Alpha, yet." His whole body calms down now with a relaxed breath out.

"One day I will be, then what will you do, Odin?"

"That day isn't here, is it? You need to be much more to make me bend. You're not ready for that. When I have claimed you fully, I will understand your fears and why you aren't yet what you have been born for. I blame your father for that; he should have been training you instead of letting you-"

"Don't you dare start on me about my father, he's more of a father to me then your father is to you." Looking directly at his forearm where the skin is pink with healing, his honor symbol gone. The only exposed skin left on his body from the neck down. Everything else a canvas of art displayed for all to see. 

"What were you going to say? Let me become, what?" A grind of my molars at the back of my jaw sounds out. 

"Let you become a healer." When he says that last word an edge of fear holds around it. 

"What's wrong with being a healer, I won't have to go through this." Looking around the clearing.

"You hide yourself in those books. You block out the world, not dealing with who you are. You hide from something you're afraid of, why are you so scared of yourself?"

"I'm not afraid of myself." 

"You're not afraid?" His question irks me.

"No, I'm not afraid. I like the healing path. It's my passion since I was young." Trying to convince him how I feel towards that path. 

"Your passion? I don't feel that from you, I feel the way you can lose track of time, I know you enjoy learning new things, making new things, discovering new things. You like exploring, but it's not a deep passion I feel from you." He's standing solidly in his spot while mine slowly tilts on its axis.

"I have passion, Odin." Trying to convince myself of what's on the inside of me. He presses his lips in a straight line.

"I know you have passion inside you, at times I can sense it, but it's not for healing. I feel it's your escape, your way out from what you can be. Deep down even if you don't understand it, you can feel something inside you trying to get out. But you won't allow that to happen, you're afraid of the power, so you hide within books and plants, to camouflage within yourself. Taking the easy way instead of something that will test you." 

"That's not true." Flinging words at him.

"Is it not true? If you couldn't be a healer would it ruin you? Would your life stop? Would something inside you die? Does being a healer ignite a soul burning, borderline violent emotion in you?"

"No, but it doesn't mean I don't have a passion for healing." He looks at me sadly, "you're lying to yourself, Charlie. How can I help you if you lie to yourself?"

"I'm not lying." Looking into his eyes so he can believe me. He doesn't and it shows on his face, as he shakes his head slowly. 

There is tension now between the both of us, pulling tight, something will break. 

"I'm here for you, Charlie. I am your mate and I will stand with you to be who you really can be."

"What can I be, Odin?"

"The greatest Alpha to have ever lived." There is such conviction of truth to his words. 

"What will you be, then?" Looking towards him, trying to read him.

"Your path maker." Those ancient forest greens rim with blood bore into me.