The Beast's Virgin Claim

I wonder what kind of a wolf I am to him. I find myself to hold no importance in his eyes, he sees me as an appealing object to play with I suppose for he does not treat me as his gift from the moon. At this point, I feel drained. I feel exhausted by this constant tug of war between us.

"Krlovna," Moira calls me softly her eyes worried for my mouth is sealed shut, tears held back with a fierceness. Despite the turmoil of my heart that savagely severs me into two, I am determined to not show these females a hint of my vulnerability. I hoped I would face no need to put on my mask in my male's pack but I suppose I can never bare myself to any wolf, my disguise must remain forevermore.

"Where is this ritual taking place? Guide me, Moira."

She nods in compliance with my words leading me to the buzzing place as I follow her speechlessly. My eyes linger upon nature's soil I am unable to peer up and meet the eyes of the one who awaits. He does not deserve my recognition, this male is a trickster. His words, his actions I am often spellbound by them but what truth do they hold?

Wolves make way for me to stride towards the throne on his right, and a part of me refuses to sit beside him. I had been lying to myself all along, saying he was my Phobos that he has not changed, that the male I adored breathes within him calling out to me to set him free.

As I climb up the steps to the throne there is that voidness in my heart that grows. Am I content, truly satisfied with all this? The age difference between him and I never felt like a weight for me to carry but now I feel it landing massively upon my shoulders.

His maturity when it comes to these matters, my naive emotions that smother me. He must have thought I would understand that I would be as composed as he is. Perhaps I would have if Phobos claimed me as his when I was eighteen.

But being deserted by him grew to become my terror, to be abandoned by him again even with the certainty that he shall return I find to be horrendous. I feel betrayed by him somehow, is it wrong of me to ask him to give me more of him? To tell me everything and not hide from me. I am his female only in namesake just like Vdce audaciously proclaimed for my ears.

My moon blessed catches my left wrist in his hand his thumb delicately skimming over my flesh pressing fondly upon my pulse, a covert action of his pretended affection towards me. He does not do it openly but privately so it cannot be evidently discovered by others.

Ripping my hand away from his has a critical sizzling tension stir to life between us. Angered ocean blues regard me with confusion as I keep my nordic blues forward following the exchange of gifts with a composure. The way the females flush whilst surrendering their handmade presents to their males, the way the love they hold between them is confirmed. They possess things I do not. Their bond is more durable than what their Alpha ties with his female.

I peer down at my empty hands, I have nothing to give him. This will put a black mark on my title for as their Luna I have not followed their ways. And they would not believe me if I argue declaring my male had not briefed me of it and I just came to know an hour ago.

"Luna, it is your turn," Vdce speaks out her eyes viciously set down upon me with indifference. She knows I do not retain anything for him, she thinks I do not care enough to do such things.

"Nen nutn, aby mi nco nabzela." Phobos voices out spreading his legs lazily leaning his flesh against the throne getting comfortable. He does not see that I am currently undergoing a test from his pack. He does not see how a minute thing such as this shall tarnish my name and my upbringing.

(It is not necessary for her to offer me anything)

"It is necessary, Alpha. She must offer you something just like all the other females have done so." Vdce interprets what he said for me, she wants me to know what my male is saying. How he does not care if he receives something from me or not. She wants to show me what he thinks of me.

My eyes flutter close whilst mother's words run forth to encourage me, to uplift my soul echoing aloud in the abyss of my mind. Rise to every challenge and show to all the strength you possess. You are unconquerable, Theia.

There is nothing that I cannot do and I will teach these ridiculing judging savages just that. Rising from my seat spine erect head held high the storm of my voice thunders to apprehend the consciousness of every wolf present. "I do possess a gift for your Alpha."

The pack becalms almost instantaneously wolves watching on with marvel. "I need two knives, any sort shall do."

A male rises from the grass floor handing me his blades drawing them out from their holder strapped across his chest. I offer him a nod of appreciativeness testing them, checking their weight examining their sharpness.

Turning around I meet head-on the widened orbs of my male who seems bewildered by my unexpected antics. "My gift for you Alpha Phobos." His upsetness I see precisely, I have been unkind to him the entire day just as he was to me. Pulling away from him, stabbing daggers into his flesh with my blues. And now I have beckoned him so frigidly like a regular wolf and not his moon blessed. There is no fondness in the way I speak to him.

This is not for you, this is dedicated to the male I treasured as a pup and still do with the totality of my heart. This is for my Phobos.

Eyes locked taking a deep breath I commence moving with a certain grace, one I had endeavoured to acquire every year since the day he taught it to me. Hands raise to rest above my head spine arching aback rotating my being whilst my wrists spin the knives arrested in my palms allowing them to slip past one finger to the next with ease.

I hear detectable gasps from all around me, their awareness and the senses I have procured. They must be stunned for I am performing their traditional dance. Driving my feet forward to stand on my tiptoes heels maintained above ground, I leap gracefully only to propel and slide my feet across the mud in a circular manner. I am quite fluent with this dance the years of practice wishing me well.

My movements alter swiftly as I cast the knives high up into the air snatching them before they caress the ground. With enraged flaring orbs, I fling them straight towards my male aiming with accuracy as it darts forward at a tremendous speed impelling deep into the head of his throne right beside his face.

If I had messed up with my aim even a little he would have a scar that shall follow him for life.. My male does not even blink sitting still his eyes adhered to my flesh, nothing seems to have his concentration but me.

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