"You have to go."

Alexei takes my hand and leads me the opposite way of the meeting room. "We don't have time. We have to get beyond the gate."

I try to pull free but his grasp insists. "Not like this — I can't be seen. I'll return to our apartment and clean myself while—"

"We can't separate."

"While you tell them that I am fine," I finish and urge him to stop.

The meeting room door opens behind us, and Alexei looks, so I shrug my arm from him. I quickly back into the wall, out of sight behind a stone column. "Tophet?" Davra calls then demands, "Where is Pryor? My Luna claims she is bleeding from the eyes."

I try to swallow my racing heart and then I sneak along the wall, walking on the balls of my feet to keep my heels from clacking. The dimming afternoon lends me the faintest of shadows to hide in, and I slip over a corner and into a connecting hall. By the narrow walls, I can decipher it as a servant's corridor, and I immediately hurry to wherever it leads.

I don't know how long I have until the God comes for me, and in a foreign keep, not any crevice is a place to hide, but I must keep moving — my scent cannot linger.

Torches sparingly light the hall as it winds downward in a strange spiral. I can only hope Alexei is convincing Alpha Davra and his Luna that I will be alright because I know what it seems; few things create such horrors. The Luna stared at me as though my infernal chastising may infect her as well — as though her eyes might brim with blood.

I open the first door I come upon in the corridor, and it leads into a hallway with a staircase on the opposite side descending further into the depths of the fortress. I peer left and right, and then I dash across the hall, still wiping blood in any attempt to better my vision. My heels clap against the stone steps, only a beat faster than my breath. At the bottom, a tunnel rests ahead, incredibly dark but promising light at its end. A courtyard.

I enter the tunnel, my footsteps louder. The cobblestones are wet, and the air is dampened with recent rain— thick in my chest — then suddenly cold. I carry on and feel as though the bleeding from my eyes has finally ceased. "Brea?" Alexei's voice echoes from behind just as it sounds in my head.

I glance back but see no one at the entrance of the tunnel.

"Alexei?" I say into the dark. My steps dwindle.

The light at the start of the tunnel dims in total eclipse. I close my eyes and open them, hoping to clear my compromised vision, yet there is nothing but blackness.

"Alexei?"

My heart cramps when a rasping breath blows over my shoulder.

"Brea?" His voice grinds.

The God snatches me at once, dragging me backward and biting into my neck. My body jolts and a cry leaps from my throat, but there is no one to hear it. The tunnel splits into oblivion and Davra's keep vanishes beneath me. I scream and scream until my head is pounding, though the God only hurls us deeper. He encloses himself around my body — forcing me to contort and shrink.

He wants to punish me again, but He is drinking too quickly. I hate the feeling. My stomach aches and my head spins; everything goes cold then dark, and I pray I wake up only to do it over once more.

I listen to the sound of His drinking — the noises of His mouth and throat — and I fill with immediate, scorching anger. My legs and arms push outward, but there is no reprieve. He's ruined everything. I fight until my limbs give out, expecting to faint as times before, but the darkness fails to disarm me. The god bites harder to whisk me away or deafen me with pain, but I won't yield. His bite functions under the pain, and there I feel something different. He takes from me, but there is the smallest sense of exchange — a part of Him seeping back.

A whine squeezes from my lungs as I cannot close any further in on myself. The God's teeth extract, He holds for a moment longer, and then He releases me as His bones and joints crack and pop, straightening as if they aren't supposed to. I collapse onto the stone floor of the tunnel — now seeing light once again at the end, cracking through His abyss. "I'm getting stronger," I sputter.

The God does not answer. I look over my shoulder, and He is gone. Someone else stands at the start of the tunnel — their face obscured — and they take heavy steps toward me. I lift my chest from the ground. Alpha Davra emerges, and my elbows buckle.

"I thought I might find you," He says and crouches next to me.

I croak, "Alexei?"

"Your mate is no longer on this territory." His head tilts and his eyes narrow. "Who attacked you?"

I cough, groan, and let my head hang. Davra stares at one end of the tunnel and then at the other. He breathes sharply into his nose and says, "Don't move. My priest is out. You're going underground while we send for another."

"Y-You can't—"

Davra leans in. "There are exceptions for Alphas disgraced by witchcraft."

"I'm not a witch," I spit.

He grabs me and forces me to my feet. "I saw it at your promising. A witch in the goddess' temple; it's sickening."

I shut my mouth and choose to keep it sealed. He peers at me then jerks me forward, saying, "Come along. You've never stayed in a cell, have you, Alpha? Hopefully it isn't for long. It's quite cold at night, but I'm sure you know the chains keep prisoners from shifting."

He pulls again, and I stumble. "Hurry now."

~•~

Davra's dungeon is submerged in darkness. There are no pinholes for sunlight to beam through the cobblestone walls, and torches, if mounted still, are not maintained by servants. Water trickles from one corner in the ceiling — my only drink — but the chains around my waist and the shackles on my feet keep me in place, slumped against the wall. The chains are too heavy for me to stand, and if I try to shift, they will break my wolf's bones.

No cellar bars are separating each cell as they do in my keep, only small, black rooms with metal doors. My fingers and feet have fallen numb from the cold, but the bite on my neck begins to heal; however, it cannot disappear fast enough. Davra saw it, and I can only imagine the conclusions conjuring in his mind: black magick, demons, prayers to the death God, and nude seances sacrificing anyone who loves the Goddess. Those like Alpha Davra — people who blindly follow the priests' word rather than Her light — are rarely in knowledge of the truth.

We have always loved our Goddess with or without the Temple. There is no need for high priests to abuse it. But I am no better, planning a temple construction over a false artifact all to bridge two territories. Alexei and I are not like Davra and his Luna. We are two high priests in our own right pulling on the reigns of our people's faith, inflating a mistruth for our benefit. Yet, Alexei doesn't know the Goddess' steps are a lie. If he believes my dream and encounter with the steps then—

The heavy door scrapes open against the cobblestone. Davra enters and leaves the door ajar. "You've had your moment to pray to the Goddess — time to reconsider whether or not you will speak the truth."

I advert my attention to my shackles.

"Tabitha. No surname. She has been at your side since your instatement." Davra paces. "Did your father use her as well? I wouldn't be surprised."

"She isn't my advisor any longer."

"Oh, but she was for some time. All one needs is some time for these sorts of things."

I adjust and the chains rattle. "She was my friend. I loved her despite her witchhood and tried to bring her into the Goddess' light."

"And she never used her craft to help you? Your pack? She is much more useful than a usual advisor, no?"

I hold.

"Now look at you," he says as he kneels before me. "Bleeding from the eyes — my Goddess. And a bite on your neck, still fresh. Alpha, I am inclined to believe your witch has bested you. Are these... Manifestations of her wrath? You are young. You were made Alpha suddenly with no father, no family to assist you, and without proper guidance, you may have wandered into deceiving arms?"

My hair begins to cling to my neck, dampened and covering my wound. "M-My mate — Alpha Tophet — doesn't... He knows of my suffering, but he doesn't know it has become this great. I just wanted this meeting to go well without... Tabitha is not my advisor any longer, but I must pay for the time she was. I accept this pain if it is what the Goddess needs of me to prove my devotion."

Davra rises, at ease. "Hm. Yes. I'm glad you've shared this with me. Under such conditions, the Temple would be willing to help you, I'm sure. Tabitha would no longer torture you, and the Temple can learn from your affliction. How come you haven't shared this with your priest?"

"Fear," I say. "I'm scared they will turn against me — think I have become both."

"Isn't that thrilling? Crossing good and evil; willing it in your own body? You aren't the typical Alpha, are you, Pryor? You have the title, but can you defend it? Alpha's fight to the death, but you? It wouldn't be much of a fight. Here we have sensibility, but not everywhere men are so gallant." Davra touches a strand of my hair. "A western Alpha would kill you without a second thought if given the opportunity."

"My army works fine."

"Where is your army now? Now, it is just us."

I shift again. "If you are suggesting I used Tabitha to make myself stronger, then you are wrong. My body is not tainted, nor my blood, nor my tongue. I made a grave mistake in a time of need, and now Tabitha seeks revenge. My curse does not affect my mate or the good we are trying to do by building a temple between us. I love the Goddess. All I ask is that I am allowed to rectify my faith."

He stares and then turns to the door. "Bring it in."

My spine straightens as a young priest walks in carrying a bucket. He sets it down, and water drips over the edge. The priest looks to his Alpha, and Davra nods. "I believe you, Alpha. You are tormented by an evil being acting in the word of the God, and for that, I am sorry. But before I release you, I must be sure."

Davra motions to the priest, and the man picks up the bucket. "This is simple, really. Gabrin will pour moon water over your head, and any lie will make itself known."

The priest comes beside me, unsure of whether to look me in the eye or not. He lifts the pale over my head, hesitating then pouring the water quickly. It soaks me at once — ice cold — but my back turns to fire. I shout and yank my chains, panicking as my skin seems to melt. Davra demands, "Leave us," to his priest, but the priest is already escaping through the cell door.

Tears rain down my face, streaming into my dried blood. I scream again only partially from pain; the rest is a flurry of rage. Davra grabs my shoulders, slamming me to the wall. "Where is it? It burns, doesn't it? No amount of power can mask a witch's mark."

His hands begin to lift my skirt; Tabitha's mark was on her thigh. But my scar is far from a witch's mark, magnified tenfold and proving his claim wrong. "I'm not a witch," I yell and kick my legs. "I'm not! I'm not!"

My anger peaks and I feel myself pushing against the God, fighting to release myself from his grasp. The God is here, around me, feeding my fury. My eyes bore into Davra until he looks at my flushed face, his hands still inspecting. There is a fire in my eyes, burning black, consuming every thought. His arms withdraw but his soul is mine. "I'm not a witch," I say.

Davra's expression slackens. He breathes in and out, alive, but strangely so. "I am not a witch. I am punished by Tabitha. You should feel ashamed for treating me this way."

Davra doesn't move. He waits, enchanted.

"Release me."

~•~

I stand in front of the mirror, watching my face as I fill and empty my chest to tranquilize my heart still throbbing. In and out — half dressed. Davra retrieved a fine gown for me to wear out of his keep, but it puddles on the floor beneath me with bloody rags. I meet my gaze and risk looking again; my shoulder drops forward, and my back twists, allowing me to see much of my scar. My breath catches.

The scar is molten — the moon water was as brutal as having the God's fingernails carve it all over again. The fabric of my underthings draws my nails into my palm, but I bite down and draw the gown up my legs. Its lack of a corset is my mercy, and I draw my arms through the sleeves thankful no binding is squeezing and rubbing my wound.

Alexei surfaces at the front of my mind, bobbing in a sea of discomfort. What did he do while I was underground? Where did he go — back to his territory? To Gaius to save our plans? I hate that he saw me bleed. In the hall, he looked at me as though I was someone else, but I couldn't stop the blood. It was entirely unlike the first time at our promise when a stream merely trickled from my ear.

My hands clamp on the dressing table to steady me. The God was impatient, and I want nothing more than to tear myself apart knowing some part of Him is inside of me — invading my body and for how long? How much have I not felt before this?

Once I am presentable, I dab my sweat with a stray cloth and leave the apartment. Alexei and my things have been moved from our short stay, but perhaps they haven't been discarded yet.

Davra waits with another man in the hall. He acknowledges me promptly. "Ah, no more blood. Your mate waits for you at the northern gate; I will take you there now."

"My belongings? I want them back."

"Then they will be retrieved," Davra says at the man beside him.

When we reach the courtyard, I see storm clouds rolling north, and although Davra and I spared no time coming here, his service is punctual. The man from moments ago in the hallway arrives with Alexei and my things. Our bags appear to be intact in his grasp, but who is to say if anything is missing from the insides?

I grab Davra's shoulders as though I can transfer any last sense of pain because I cannot bring it with me. "Look into my eyes," I say. "Quickly. Before the gate opens."

Davra leans in.

"You remember all that I said, don't you? About Alexei and me? Our land claim to build a temple?"

He nods.

"Good. Now what am I?"

"An Alpha."

"Is that all?"

Davra nods again, as obedient as my horses. "Alright. You may open the gate now," I direct, catching hints of Alexei in the wind. Davra gestures to the gatekeeper, and the chains clamor. I notice a large wood beam laying to the side of the gate in dirt, and as the gate draws inward, I realize Davra had it in place to keep the outside from breaking in. Davra must have fortified the gate against Alexei.

My mate is revealed at a cautious distance with more than ten shifted wolves. He looks me over as I walk to meet him, passing through the gate but more eager to reach unclaimed land. Davra's assistant leaves our bags behind me, and Alexei nears me to pick them up. My attention lingers on his bare chest.

"Everything is fine," I say. "I talked to Alpha Davra, and he supports our plans to construct the new temple with a high priestess."

Alexei says nothing and carries the bags to a wolf strapped for gear. I follow, and the gate begins to close.

"Alexei, I handled it. Davra isn't an issue. He thinks Tabitha is the reason behind my bleeding."

He lifts one bag and secures it. The wolf doesn't dare glance — he may as well be deaf to my careless candor — Alexei wouldn't bring these men along if they're untrustworthy.

"If Tabitha isn't the cause, then what is?"

My lips part, wordless.

He readies the last bag and faces me. "Wait here. I'm going to shift, and we're gone."

"I want to shift — to run."

"No. The sun is setting. We're moving quickly through the night."

I step away. "I'm running, and I don't care how fast you go."

"Brea—"

"I sat for hours covered in blood and chains to convince Davra that he doesn't have to burn me at the stake or bury me alive. I'm running."

Alexei grabs me before I can turn my back. "I said to stay together. You ran off."

"I had to."

"From Davra or me?"

Alexei releases my arm. I peer at our audience and insist, "I'm shifting. Don't follow me."

I leave the gown in the forest beyond Davra's walls, and when I shift, the pain from my scar dulls to something bearable. Alexei keeps his word; the group runs fast. Despite his attempts to corral me inward, I run on an outside corner, falling behind but not minding it.

Alexei circles the group and then runs around me — out of sight in spite of his scent — and even though I'm bothered by our reunion, his presence settles any fear I have of unclaimed land. Few scents along the way are unaccounted for, but the foreign ones that do reach my nose remain so no longer than a minute or two. But an exception arises.

Halfway to Alexei's territory, a scent sticks, diverting only slightly from our route. I check my surroundings and carry on. Alexei seems to be at his farthest point from me, but he must smell it as well. Winds from the downpour behind us may obscure it but not enough to evade his nose.

The rogue wolf appears suddenly on my horizon like a ghost.

I nearly snap a wrist skidding to a stop. He stands uphill, unmoving and unafraid, so I mimic his repose and make no hasty decisions. He's a larger wolf — grey-toned and brown on his underside — appearing older and wiser. He takes a testing step forward but halts almost immediately. And then I hear his breaths; Alexei is now behind me. I face him and find many white teeth — fangs dripping saliva in a sinister snarl.

I duck away, only hearing the rustling brush of the rogue's escape. Alexei growls at me. He wants me shifted and on his back, but that option is utter surrender, and I won't dare. I bark and continue uphill, but Alexei is quickly in front. He stares down at me — dominating — then runs beside me the remainder of the way. No other rogues cross our path, but he knows my steps are safe before I take them.

I thought Alexei would have been proud of my progress with Davra. I thought he would have been proud of my resilience and ability to change Davra's mind when all hope was slipping through my fingers. I was a good Alpha today. I saved myself.

But Alexei can't see past my bloody face.

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I can't thank you guys enough for your patience! TACM is featured in Werewolf Week for Halloween, so it is great seeing so many new readers! All of your comments are so insightful and sweet, and I can only hope to keep making everyone proud. Thanks for reading!