The sun begins to set, and Alpha Tophet has yet to return. I sit at the table in the lone tent as I wait for him. My lines have already been decided upon and rehearsed with Tabitha; something quick that was supposed to get us home before nightfall, but it is no longer afternoon, and it is much too late to travel.

My birthday is tomorrow — I was born in the early morning, before the birds and the sun and the dew. My mother told me that I was supposed to be born the day before, but I refused to come out. She was in labor for far longer than expected, far longer than any woman would agree to be.

Stubborn — she called me. A princess who disapproved of the world and who was content waiting until it improved for her to join it. She pushed, however. She forced me out. So I was born an hour past midnight and cried and cried until the sun finally rose and shone its rays through the window panes of the keep.

I was terrified — sleepless.

I sat against the wooden tub all night, holding myself. I bled from my ears, nose, eyes, and from between my legs, and I left myself drain away like my mother did when she died.

But I didn't die. The Goddess' heavens did not open for me.

I hear Alpha Tophet part the flaps of the tent. My back is to him, but I know he is studying me once again; I feel the heat of his gaze.

"I'm returning home," I say then turn in my chair to look at him. "I know we haven't come to an agreement, but I don't believe one is possible. I thought I would do the honorable thing and tell you rather than disappear. Maybe a negotiation can be attempted again in the future, but for now, I'm done."

He watches me in a spell of silence. I cast my own eyes downward with nowhere else to fixate, finding it strange to look at him for too long. "Then our war continues," he says, his tone only confusing me with its plainness.

"I suppose so. My men and I will stay for the night and leave in the morning."

I lift from the chair and head for the exit, curving around him but not stepping out into the approaching night until I say, "Goodbye, Alpha Tophet."

This is the last time I will see him, but I have yet to smile like I thought I would.

Tabitha and two guards wait outside for me, and we walk back to our camp together. The snow has begun to stick and build and soon enough we will be unable to step through it so thoughtlessly; it will continue to pile as the season reaches its peak that is still a month away.

"I assumed we would be back to celebrate your birthday," Tabitha says.

"We can still celebrate tomorrow when we do get home. It'll still be my birthday."

"Yes, but I like it when we do it the second you were born. It makes it extra special. The universe wants it that way."

"You'll have to ask the universe for an exception."

She sighs. "Very well. Though, the universe is getting a little tired of my requests."

A smile tugs on my blueish lips. "It is, is it?"

Heaven didn't want me; Hell had already consumed me, but I believe the day of my death will be the day I return to the goddess. The God's ties only bind me in this world for the next will be all mine.

We eat our small dinner then settle in our tent. Tabitha falls asleep swiftly, so I sit upright on my sleeping mat in the dark.

My skin pimples against the fabric of my nightgown.

"Underneath."

The nail of my middle finger scrapes against the face of my thumb.

"Into his chest."

"You must."

I whisper, "I can't."

A sudden breath of air beside my ear makes me jolt forward, and on my hands and knees, I begin to cry. He looms, and His warped hand strokes along my spine. Tabitha stirs, so I shut my mouth.

My fingers creep under my mat and withdraw the knife stored there.

"Into his chest."

"W-will you protect me?"

He breathes again, but I don't think air is entering His lungs. I don't think He breathes. He hisses and growls — strangled, guttural noises. A tear slips across my frozen cheek. "Indeed."

I leave the tent with my cloak over my nightgown and with my feet bare in my boots. The iron knife is clenched tightly in my grasp as I trudge through the fresh snow that continues to fall all around me, blurring what lies in the distance. Its silent, elegant downpour drowns me in white by the light of the moon, and I feel like a rowboat floating aimlessly on an ocean. I wouldn't know which direction Alpha Tophet's camp lies in without the cloven footprints directing me.

I follow His path as my body grows colder. My toes are completely numb, and the parts of me that are always warm are no longer.

Today is my birthday, and I shall kill for the first time with my own hands, not as an act of war, but a will of Death. He wields me so well; there is nothing I fear more than His punishment. I've always fought to stay in His good graces because what happened that night — what He had done — was mere deal-making.

I would hate to discover what horrors constitute a reprimanding.

Once I've exhausted myself, I see the flickering lights of a handful of fires as they burn through the snowfall. It must be his war camp. The knife grows heavy in my hand as I begin to bear the weight of such an action. The God says he will protect me, and I desperately need him to if I want to survive.

My feet cease to move. I stop for a moment because I need to think. This is a decision that requires a lot of thought, but He doesn't want me to turn to reason — reason is his ruin.

Today I turn eighteen years old, and I can almost feel it. My body urges me to acknowledge its blooming; a single flower bursting up from a field of snow. The tight muscles in my face and shoulders mellow for a poorly-timed moment of peace. It may be the icy deaths' fingers curling over my heart, but I feel it: safety.

I nearly shed a tear yet again, but not from His terror, rather, the sudden relief.

Never has a birthday given such delights as this. Each one leading to this one is a forgotten memory as my chest ignites and becomes my new source of heat. My empty palm lays flush against it, but there is no warmth. My brow furrows, and I dig underneath my clothes to touch my skin, yet the sparks inside fail to emit outwards.

Eighteen and eligible.

My hand fists my nightgown.

I drop the knife and let it vanish into the snow before I turn it on myself. Without a glimmer of reason, I scramble the opposite way and shift at once, riping the tie of my cloak and tearing the seams of my nightgown. My wolf emerges and dashes effortlessly.

He must be experiencing the sensations in return — my mate. Running won't reverse our flourishing bond, but it will offer me time.

Tabitha — I need Tabitha.

What was a journey of sorts is whittled down to a minute of pounding paws as I retrace the two sets of tracks, destroying them with my wolf's larger, more frantic one. I come to a skidding stop in front of our tent and bark to alert both Tabitha and our guards. I then shrink back to my human form, naked and tumbling into the snow. Tabitha — disheveled yet very awake — juts her head into the open air.

"Brea?" She gasps and swoops to grab me. She yanks me into our tent and casts her blankets over my shivering body. "What in the world are you doing? What's happening?"

A shifted guard who was likely patrolling our camp pokes his head through the tent flaps. Another guard — in human form — calls, "Alpha, are you alright?"

"Guard the tent," I holler. "Don't let anyone in."

"Brea, please, what is it? You're worrying me. Why are you awake and out there alone? Why did you shift?"

I stare straight into her eyes. "My mate is here. He's one of them."

"The stones were right," she murmurs, "this is quite the arrival."

"Tell me what to do because I don't know what to do."

"Did you see him? Did he see you?"

"I-I ran before I came too close. It was only the feeling, but I know that it's my mate. I know."

She secures the blanket then adds another. "You could have froze out there like that."

"Tabitha, he's likely following my scent as we speak. There isn't any time for this."

Her hands release. "Then you should face him head-on. Don't hide away."

"Is there another option?" I ask, both mentally and physically restless. "Because I'm — I'm nervous. What do I say?"

"I suppose you speak to him like you would any man. Be practical about it. Introduce yourself."

"Bless the Goddess, I'm nude. I-I need something to wear."

"Not to worry," Tabitha says and grabs my clothes. "You tore your underthings, didn't you? Well, I have extra."

I take the bundle of leathers and tell her, "My cloak is out there too — in the field."

"Ha, you left quite the scene. I'm sure the man will be able to solve the mystery — a torn nightdress, an abandoned cloak, and shreds of fine underthings — how exciting."

I hastily begin trading the blankets for respectable outerwear. "Alpha Tophet will love this; I'm taking another one of his men from him."

"I have to say the brute deserves it," she mutters and instinctively prepares herself as well. "Perhaps the man will be jealous he's not the one receiving a mate."

"Two centuries and no mate?"

"Rather sad isn't it? But I'm sure the man has plenty of women to occupy his time. He must return home to a harem of naked women laying about his chambers, lounging and eating grapes and olives, giggling and falling pregnant — a life at ease, one not fit for women like us."

"Then why do you say such things so dreamily?" I question and grin as I pull my pants up my legs, already feeling so much better than when the God led me on His leash. He's not here anymore. The atmosphere is clear of Him; it's no longer muddy and condensed.

"You can't wake a woman in the middle of a freezing night in a tent in a war camp and not expect her to dream of velvet and silk and fruits and an Alpha male to serve her."

"I believe the women service him."

She smirks. "Not if they're smart about it."

I scatter her words with a waving hand. "Nevermind it. Just hurry up."

"Do you feel him? Do you sense that he's near?"

"I feel it in my chest — the bond. It's like a rope has been tied around my heart and the other end is around his. When we're closer it..." I trip over my breath. My hand springs to massage and soothe what races inside. "I feel it — it's happening. Oh, Goddess, he's coming."

Tabitha grabs my hand and guides me out of the tent. "You're an Alpha so you must act like it. Be noble. Be brave. He belongs to you now, so let him know it."

Three shifted guards and one human survey. I also notice the presence of Byron, and he rises from the now burning fire at the sight of us.

"Byron," Tabitha greets, unexpecting as I am.

"I was told of a sudden need for defenses," he says. "Has Tophet done something?"

"Oh, no. The Alpha has sensed her mate, and now we shall wait for him."

Byron loosens awkwardly like a father might. "Ah, well, my congratulations to you, Alpha."

"Thank you, Byron, but please, return to bed. Everything will be just fine here."

"Yes, all we'll do is collect him, tag him, and get him ready to ship off with us at sunrise," Tabitha teases.

Byron respectfully nods at Tabitha's joke then says, "I will trust the guards to protect you, then."

She continues to chatter, but I stop listening. I step away from them, and when Tabitha turns to heed me, I silently ask her to stay. She and Bryon share a look and watch as I break away. I should meet him alone. He deserves a gentle moment before Tabitha gets a hold of him.

I walk until I'm out of sight. I wonder what he looks like — what his name is. Maybe I'll like him, and he'll find me pleasant enough, and we'll be friends. My parents loved one another yet could have been better friends. There were things my father never knew about my mother, and when she told me this, I thought it was strange. It would be extremely difficult to tell someone everything about myself — every victory and loss and sacrifice — but truthfully, there aren't very many.

I know that I'm still so young. It may be best to get it all out before the list continues to grow. Maybe my mate and I can combine our lists and share one from now on.

I stand in the snow like I've reached the end of a dock. My mate sails in, and I want my face to be the first he sees.

My heart threatens to burst when his figure comes into view, and I squint because something about it is so familiar. Terribly impatient, I lean and step carefully, but I jump back when a shimmer of silver strikes the ground at my feet, slicing through the snow. I immediately crouch and unsheath my own iron blade from the hardened earth.

"How honorable, Alpha Pryor."

The sound of my father's name strikes me.

My heart beats in my ears as it's lept into my skull. I taste blood on my tongue because I've bitten it in surprise, yet blood in my mouth is the last of my concerns. "It's not as it seems," I say, electric in my veins, too frightened to comprehend all that this means.

Alpha Tophet stands in front of me, unafraid.

"You told me that you've seen eighteen years," he says.

"It was close enough."

"It was not. There's a great difference."

The sternness and frustration in his voice strip me to my core. "Well, it doesn't matter anymore, does it? I'm eighteen years old now."

He moves closer. "You are many things now, Brea."

"You know my name."

"I know everything. I know your father and brother were killed by your father's own men. I know you lead with a witch at your side. I know—"

"Clearly you don't know everything," I retaliate.

"What I didn't know, I asked, and you lied."

My cheeks smolder red despite the frigid temperature. "I didn't think you would be my mate. I-I thought you already had one!"

"Brea?"

I turn. Tabitha stands behind me with Byron still awake and at her side. I struggle to explain; I don't want to say it, that Alpha Tophet is my mate.

My mate who the God nearly had me plunge a dagger into.

"Tabitha, I..." There's no need to say it; she knows. She stares at Tophet, unmoving. "We need to discuss," I decide off the top of my head. "Alpha Tophet and I need to speak Alpha to Alpha — a negotiation — alone."

I turn back to Tophet in search of a response. Tabitha starts her opposition, but he interrupts her when he agrees, "Alone."