Carve My Name Off Your Altar

Seven nights before my Alpha was supposed to mark me, I smelled another she-wolf's pup on him.

Not just any she-wolf. Odessa Aldane, the little sister of his dead first love.

I was sitting by the fire in our cabin, sewing a loose bead onto my ceremony gown, when Dane Carrow walked in a little after midnight.

Under the pine and rain on his skin was her scent, and something warm and sweet, like milk. Every she-wolf in the pack knows that smell.

The needle went into my thumb. A drop of blood spread across the white silk.

And it wasn't the first time he'd chosen her over me.

Six years ago, his first love, Linnea, pulled the silver out of his blood with her own and died for it. A year ago, her sister showed up at the pack house swearing her wolf was dying too. Since then, I had forgiven Dane twice.

"Tamsin." His eyes went to my face, then to the gown. "You're still up."

"How far along is she?"

He didn't answer right away. That was answer enough.

"Ten weeks," he said at last.

Ten weeks. The anniversary of Linnea's death had been ten weeks ago. I'd spent that night alone up here, because Dane said Odessa shouldn't be by herself. Grief was hard on her wolf, he said.

"You've known for two months," I said. "And you let me keep sewing this."

"Tamsin—"

"A year ago, you gave her the guest wing and every healer in the valley. I told myself it was guilt, and guilt passes."

He said nothing.

"Six months ago, at the Harvest Moon, you were supposed to name me your future Luna. You gave her the seat at your right hand instead, and I smiled at the far end of the table until my face ached."

"The Ashfen elders were watching. If I didn't honor her—"

"And now she's carrying your pup."

His jaw worked. "It was Linnea's night. I'd been drinking. Odessa had her shawl on, and she smells like—" He stopped. "She smells like Linnea's blood. Like what's in me. My wolf couldn't tell the difference."

"Your wolf," I said. "Or you?"

Footsteps crunched on the path outside.

Odessa came up onto the porch wrapped in Linnea's old gray shawl, one hand pressed to her stomach. She was pale. Her eyes had the cloudy, faded look the healer said meant her wolf was slipping away.

"Dane? You left before I could—" She saw me and stopped. "Oh. Tamsin. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to come all the way up here."

No wolf came up this ridge without the Alpha's leave. That was the rule. That was his promise to me.

Her eyes filled.

"I never wanted to hurt you. It's just..." Her voice cracked. "I'm running out of time. The healer says my wolf might not last until the birth. I only wanted something of me to stay behind. Something of Linnea."

She pressed her face into Dane's chest and cried.

His arms came up around her.

"Hey. Don't. It's bad for the pup."

I sat there with blood on my thumb and watched the man who was supposed to mark me in seven nights rock another woman back and forth on our porch.

Odessa swayed. "Dane, everything's spinning..."

He went rigid. "Is it the pup?"

"I don't know..."

He swept her into his arms and looked at me over her head. There was no guilt on his face. Only hurry.

"Stay here. I'm taking her to the healer."

"Dane—"

"We'll talk tomorrow."

He was already down the steps. Over his shoulder, Odessa lifted her head and looked back at me.

Her eyes weren't cloudy at all.

Then she tucked her face into his neck and let out a soft little sob.

At sunrise, I walked down to the river to see the Elder.

She was the oldest wolf in Ironmere. She heard me out without a word, then studied me for a long time.

"You want to be cut loose from the pack."

"Yes."

"A severing hurts, child. Once the bond is gone, it's gone. No pack link. No home to come back to." She sighed. "The draught needs seven nights to steep. And by pack law, leaving is a wolf's own business. The Alpha won't know until it's done."

"Seven nights is fine."

The same seven nights I'd been counting down to his mark.

Back at the cabin, I pulled my old duffel bag out from under the narrow bed in the spare room. I'd slept there all week. The big bedroom at the end of the hall stayed shut. Dane built it for the night after the ceremony, and we'd promised each other we wouldn't use it until then.

He built all of it with his own hands, the year his wolf finally stopped tearing at him. He carved the bed frame. He laid every stone in the fireplace. Up the path, at the moon altar, he had already carved my name into the stone ring beside every Luna Ironmere had ever had.

"When my wolf is steady," he used to say, kissing the bare side of my neck. "I won't risk hurting you. When it's steady, I'll mark you right here, and nobody will ever set foot on this ridge but us."

I folded the gown back into its chest and started packing everything else.

I was halfway done when I heard voices on the path.

I went to the window.

Dane was coming up the ridge with a bag over his shoulder. Odessa walked beside him, leaning on his arm, one palm on her belly.

She looked up at the cabin and smiled.

A minute later, he was in my doorway.

"The healer says she needs quiet. No pack noise, no stress." He wouldn't look at me. "The ridge is the quietest place in our territory."

I stared at him.

"Her wolf might not make it to the birth, Tamsin. She wants to feel like a mother for as long as she can."

From the front room, Odessa's voice drifted in, soft and breathless. "It's so beautiful up here. Linnea always loved high places. I can almost feel her."

Something in his face gentled.

"After the pup's born, she goes back to Ashfen," he said. "I promise. She'll be out of your life."

Then he picked up Odessa's bag, carried it down the hall into the big bedroom, and shut the door.