Alexei stays with me every night though he doesn't sleep. I feel him get on and off the bed occasionally and hear him leave the room, but it is never for long.

I recall his kiss the other morning as though it happened moments ago. He kept his word, kissed me goodbye in his chambers, and proved our growing intimacy to be real, not a figment of my fleeting dreams. He approached me after I had covered up with my robe, and he held my face, looking into my eyes and talking about his plans for the day, but I barely heard him over the deafening suspense. My lips parted and he swept me into lip lock, relishing me quickly then letting go. He told me to be careful, and then he left until dinner. I sat at the dining table with my hands in my lap until he appeared half an hour late. I couldn't eat much. The food felt like mud in my mouth; my head's gone to mush flipping through recipes and curses and stories. When he asked if I'd eaten, I lied and said I couldn't wait for him to arrive; I already ate my fill.

I know I should be grateful to sit before a bounty each night when winter leaves many tables deprived, but this morning my appetite was no more revived by rest than the days prior. When I'm alone, I read Tabitha's book, and when I'm not, I worry about what she's written.

Alexei is my only reprieve.

I carry her book with me now in a plain leather sachel one servant was kind enough to give me before I left through the city gate. It's snowing lightly, and she didn't want the pages exposed. I thanked her for thinking when I was not then I gave her a handful of gold and silver coins and wished her well during the winter.

Bringing the book along should be telling enough, but my mind hasn't been made up. Will I show Senet or won't I?

Sweet smells waft out the door of a bakery as I walk by, reminiscent of the pastries my mother would request on cold mornings. Winter spices warm the soul, but my stomach is still — uninterested.

The temple steps are swept of snow, though the snowfall has been manageable compared to the storms in the mountains. Lumber arrived in my territory after a testing trip and is surely being processed and distributed this morning. I stomp my boots clean before I enter the temple, and I clear the stray hairs from my face. Footsteps click against the stone floor as Senet approaches.

"Alpha, I'm glad to see your mind hasn't changed," he says with a welcoming grin. "It wasn't too unpleasant of a walk in this weather, I hope."

"The snow has lightened. My mind is... hopeful. Have you had any revelations regarding my mark?"

"I thought the scripture in your mark might be a form of witches tongue, but there are too many variations. I would like to copy the writings onto parchment for closer analysis," he says as he leads me into his study. "By Her light, the books I had requested after our first meeting were permitted to travel here; I've maintained quite a reputation with the academy scholars in the Islands. One of my good friends happens to be the protector of these books, so we must handle with care."

He takes me to his desk where three small books are stacked on top of unwrapped packaging. One shows more wear than the others, but none seem shy of three centuries.

I ask, "What do they speak about?"

"A variety of stories. Your story and marking reminded me of them — one in particular — that I was privileged to read many years ago."

Senet picks up the first book as I remove and drape my cloak over the armchair before his desk. I rest my satchel on the cushion then stand beside him to look at the pages as he turns through them. "Is it in this book?"

"Possibly, but I couldn't be sure. These stories concern the Goddess," he glances at me, "the God, the first Alpha—"

"Who wrote them?"

"Various people at varying times. This book," he exchanges the first book for the most damaged, "came into the __ academy's possession only sixty years ago. It was found buried in the west in the foundation of a ruined shrine and was only uncovered after an Alpha claimed the Goddess spoke to him and told him where it was, that she wanted it dug out."

I stare at the last book on the brown packaging. "Can I touch them?"

"Yes. But with tremendous care. The academy tries its best to preserve them as there are no other discovered copies. We believe these are the only originals — handwritten and bound, delicate and not for just any eyes to see."

I take the book and hold it as though I'm holding my first son. The binding is soft and pliable, and the pages have yellowed. My thumb nail caresses the exposed side until it slips between two pages. "What's the story I reminded you of?"

"Anera and the God. Have you heard that name before?"

"No."

"She was the first Alpha's mate and Luna. Before she was mated, she was in love with the God, and the God, with her. The story describes Him biting her and drinking her blood, but their love was spoiled by her mate bond."

I open the book and loosely read. "The God loved her and she loved Him back? I find that hard to believe. A woman could never love the God. I can't stand to even look at Him."

Senet places the worn book down and asks, "How does He appear when He manifests to you?"

"He has many qualities of a regular man, but His face — something is missing. His fangs and nails like claws, His cloven feet and horns. His animal eyes. His emptiness. He drains my soul just looking at Him. It's horrible and above everything, unloveable."

I turn the next page and there's a drawing of a woman with a veil over her face — a cloth — that stops under her chin and hides a pointed headpiece. The top of the portrait reads His Maiden, and I hear nothing Senet says.

"Is this her? Anera?"

I hold the book for Senet to see. "Ah, yes. There she is. His queen, shamed with a cloth over her face."

"I've seen her in Alexei's keep. There's a statue of her; it's somewhat hidden, but she has a sheet over her and a crown. She reaches upward—"

"To the God," he concludes. "It must have been put in the fortress some time ago and has since been forgotten. When the Temple of the Goddess was smaller, these things went unaccounted for. Such a statue would be removed if it was made known today. Perhaps you and your mate are best to store it underground."

"So she's hated? Even though she's the first Alpha's mate?"

"This is why these books must be protected. Some individuals are more than willing to destroy this history rather than risk it altering the Temple's reputation. There are countless stories of the Goddess which are ignored because of the God's interference. The Temple does not want Anera to be known anymore, so in these times — and especially in the east — she hardly is."

I close the book and take the worn one. Despite the state of the cover, the pages are well-preserved, and the writing is clearer. Smaller drawings interrupt the text like a personal diary, and I look at every sketch I come across, big or minute.

"You speak of the Temple as though you aren't a priest."

Senet sits in the other armchair, groaning quietly as though his body hurts. "Before my priesthood, I was a stranger to the Goddess. I was a nomad who robbed carriages, and I preferred the company of rogue wolves to city folk. Witchcraft was introduced to me by a rogue who claimed to love a witch he hadn't seen for decades. He knew some tales of the God and the Goddess before the Temple had scrubbed the east, and they fascinated me. He told me of the academies in the East Islands, and how some taught unbiased. I had no standing or wealth to attend such academies, but priests have access to writings most scholars are prohibited from reading. And clever priests like me can handle these treasures." He motions to the books.

Senet adds, "I've argued countless times to compile the stories for the public, but the high priests disagree."

"They wouldn't want the people reading about the God. Especially not His shifting lover."

"I'm afraid not. In their eyes, some stories spoil the rest, even those that do not include Him. It's a terrible shame."

My shoulders sink as I glimpse through more of the deteriorating book. "You cannot copy them for preservation?"

"My good friend who watches over them has tried, but his hands are old and they hurt if he writes for too long. And I've written down parts of my favorite stories, but I never have the books for long enough. The Academy will house them — won't copy them for us to avoid conflict with the temple — though, at least they are safe."

I can't help but consider Senet's fight my own. I pretend to read while contemplating my new high priestess — how she could advocate for Senet and have the Goddess' stories shared. The tale of Anera and the God is my only concern, however. I have yet to read it, but I think I would like that one to remain out of the public's knowledge. It wouldn't seem very savvy to release incriminating information, that is, if Senet is right to draw a connection between the God, Anera, and me.

Senet reaches for a cup of tea left on the corner of his desk. He sips, cringes — the tea has likely gone cold — and sets the cup down. "Would you explain your bond with the God to me?"

I gradually lower into the other armchair, minding the sachel with Tabitha's book brewing in its secrets. "What about it?"

"Why do you think he rewards you for your blood?"

"Because he can't drink enough of it. He loves it."

"Are there limits to your requests?"

"Yes. At least, based on my own conclusions. I discovered quickly that I cannot change myself. I cannot ask to be stronger or faster or more skilled at anything. He will heal me if I'm unwell, but that's all."

He questions, "You are able to affect others?"

"I took my old advisor's witchhood from her, so yes. But I have yet to discover the limits of that."

"The God provides her power. Perhaps that is why."

I turn the page of the book resting in my lap. "I know all of it is like screeching to the ear; an Alpha who siphons power from the God. There is another person I bled for, a sick baby at one of the orphanages here in the city. Maybe I can use my bond with the God for good. I can heal people — if it works."

Senet's face wavers as he considers this, so my eyes return to the crammed pages of the worn book. The text is so small I can't read without concentrating, but an eerie drawing on the next page compels me to try. It's of a nude woman standing in a tree canopy. Dark liquid drips down her chin, comparable in strangeness to her owl eyes. "What is this thing?" I mutter and show Senet the picture.

It isn't incredibly detailed, yet seems all the more haunting because of it. He breathes out his nose and rests against his chair. "An extinct creature of the God and enemy of our ancestors. Blood-drinking like their creator."

"They're demonic?"

"No. Their lives are restricted to this world as our own. Varying theories can be argued depending on who you ask, but I personally believe they are to the God as Alphas are to the Goddess. One is very deadly; an army is catastrophic. The God released three in Anera's village, and those were the last to enter this world. After they ruined the village, they separated. One was killed some months after, but the remaining two were hunted for many years. Alphas and their men had to cooperate to catch and kill them."

"They don't have a name?"

"Yes — vampires. Dangerously gifted."

"Well, Alphas are rather dangerous; they overcame the vampires."

"That book will inform you. It holds all known information about them. Us shifters — we are gifted to transform. An Alpha is the pinnacle of our strength. But the vampire needs no brute force. They sneak into one's mind." Senet gestures to the book still in my grasp. "Perhaps there is a means to end your bond to the God if they are so similar."

"Yes, I would like to read this, and the story of Anera and the God."

"I can trust you'll look after them?"

I nod. "I'm not a stranger to old, affronting books. I'll keep them safe.

"They must be sent back to the Academy tomorrow."

"I'll return them in the morning."

Senet packages the books in their brown wrapping, and I tuck them next to Tabitha's book. I know I can't show him Tabitha's writings, not while he believes I'm something of a reincarnated Anera. The God doesn't love me. Tabitha may call me His Maiden in her entries, but Anera did not kill her mate, the first Alpha. I'll read the story to be sure of it, but I cannot see why Senet would leave out key information. She found her mate, and the God tore down her village in revenge.

If the God wanted to ruin my pack, he wouldn't have helped me save it, even after I was bonded to Alexei.

"I'll unlace my dress so you can write down the scripture," I offer, though, I'm inclined to deduce the words on my back are unreadable to anyone but Him.

It takes longer than I expect for Senet to copy the writing, but once he is finished, he shows me his work: an exact picture of the mark in its entirety, not a line out of place.

"Promise me this will not be seen by anyone else."

Senet places the parchment on his desk. "If I do, may the Goddess strike me where I stand."

I reach my arms behind my back to secure my dress. Afterward, as I'm putting on my cloak, Senet is distracted. He smiles. "Good evening, Alpha. We were just finishing."

I peer behind me and see Alexei in the doorway, so I hang the sachel from my shoulder and ask, "Has something happened?"

"I thought I would walk you back to the keep."

"You aren't too busy? Has Gaius answered?"

"No," he says then looks to Senet. "I suppose everything went well? Were you able to read her scar?"

"I will tell you everything as we walk," I offer Alexei. "Thank you, Senet, for lending me the books. I'll see you tomorrow when I return them."

Senet bows his head and wishes us a good night. The sun has set by the time I exit the temple, but the street lanterns light our path. "I need to find the orphanage that brought its children to your conservatory."

"There's an orphanage near the gate, but I can't be sure it's the right one. How come?"

"I need to see one of the children."

Alexei glances down at me. "Why?"

"Well, I was in the conservatory at the same time and saw one of the babies was unwell. In a way, I tested the God. I bled to help the baby."

"You fed the God for a sick child?"

"And now I have to confirm whether or not it worked."

"When was this?"

"Before we traveled to Davra," I say as we turn a corner. "I forgot I had but I was reminded by my conversation with Senet."

"I want to hear what happened during your meeting."

"You'll show me where the orphanage is?"

"Yes. We can go. Now tell me what Senet said about your scar."

I tell Alexei what Senet told me, that he could not translate the writing and needed a drawing of the scar to do further research. I also tell him about the three books I've borrowed, but Alexei falls silent, possibly disappointed by Senet's lack of a conclusion.

As we near the city gate, Alexei points to a building up ahead. "The orphanage."

A woman is outside sweeping snow from the steps. "That's her; the woman who was with the baby," I say and walk faster. The woman looks when I approach, slowing her sweeping and taking a second to comprehend our faces.

Her lips open, but her greeting escapes her.

"Good evening. Do you remember our meeting? In the conservatory?"

She nods and stares at Alexei. "Yes, A-Alphas. Of course."

"You were holding a baby and you told me he was sick. How is he? Is there any way I can see him now?"

She sets the broom against the exterior of the building. "He may have been put down for the night, but I can check for you, Alpha. Please, come inside, out of the cold."

She leaves me agog when she speaks nothing of the baby's health. Alexei and I wait in the front room of the orphanage, and she vanishes into another hall. Children's voices can be heard up the staircase ahead. Alexei eyes the room — surely never having been inside — so I touch his arm.

"If the baby is well, then I know I can help more people. I can make my deal with Him into something good."

"You suffer when you let Him..." Alexei quiets as another worker peeks curiously around the corner. She quickly reverts having been spotted.

"And you've never suffered for your people?"

"There isn't enough blood in your body to help everyone, Brea. Nor should you."

"Here he is. Little Myka," the woman announces as she returns with the baby in her arms. She carries him down the hall and turns to show us his face. The baby isn't fussy or red-cheeked like before. "He improved shortly after we visited the keep. The Goddess must have heard your good wishes, Alpha Pryor. Would you like to hold him?"

I open my arms as I stare in wonder. She hands me the baby, and I settle him on my hip. "Hello Myka," I say softly. "You look much better, don't you?"

The woman smiles. "It is very kind of you to visit. We received our supplies just yesterday."

I peer to Alexei, and he explains, "We send packages to the orphanages each month.

A child's scream sounds from above, and the woman blushes. "A few of the little ones get rowdy before bed, but Myka has been a peaceful baby since he's recovered. I believe he'll grow to be quite the musician. He adores our songs, and Miss Pots plays the harp for him. He truly is prospering, Alpha."

Another scream erupts, and the woman grins nervously. "If you could excuse me for a moment."

She hurries up the steps, leaving the baby with Alexei and me. I turn so Myka can see him. Alexei holds out a finger, and Myka grabs it with his small hand. "Sing him a song," Alexei requests.

"Oh, well, I don't know many lullabies."

"Not one?"

I look at the baby. "Hm. I suppose I know one. Hopefully he hasn't heard it already."

Alexei grins. "Go on then."

I sing, "My mother plants a Hollyhock to hold and beat my heart. My mother plants a Peony to pledge we never part. And when the sun sets on her garden she must wait till morn. The crows will cry, there be a harvest when a baby's born."

The baby rests his head against my shoulder. "There you go. You're putting him to bed," Alexei says.

"He was already tired; it's his bedtime."

Alexei strokes the baby's bald head, and I catch a glimpse of longing in his eyes. "He knows what you've done for him."

~•~

We return to the keep, and Alexei insists we go straight to the dining hall for dinner before the cooks retire to have their own supper. He watches as I look over the dishes, more aware than I thought when it comes to my diet.

"Do you want something else?" He asks when I hesitate to load my plate.

Flustered, I suddenly shake my head and spoon some roasted vegetables and duck. "No. This is fine."

I lift a square of potatoes into my mouth and chew slowly because it feels like wet mortar and tastes rotten. Alexei eats from the same dish, unfazed. "Your plate was clean yesterday when you told me you ate," he says. "Why did you lie?"

"I wasn't hungry — didn't want to make a big deal of it."

I skewer a handsome slice of meat and eat it with a cool expression. Alexei drops the subject, and I carry on with my horrid meal to ensure it.

After dinner, Alexei tells me to go on to the apartment without him; he will be there in a moment, so I take the opportunity to ready for bed, leaving Tabitha's