The Beast's Virgin Claim

Sunflower

"Deimos!" I shriek my heart beating within the bounds of my chest. My stomach turns and twists within itself but in a good way. One that I truly enjoy.

"Theia, hold tight," Deimos warns from behind me his words chuckled out in a teasing way.

"Are you laughing? You both are laughing yes?" I scream again as I am pushed to go higher.

Cronus tries to hold and control his bubbling laughter along with Deimos by his side. They do find my reactions quite amusing.

"No, we are not Theia. Why would we? Push her harder." Cronus utters to ease my playful anger but whispers his last words to Deimos showing him his sibling evilness that often comes out to play.

Luna Aphrodite requested some wolves to build us a private swing to play on back in their castle's garden. It's rods plunge deep into the mud which helps us to ride it with ease. Better than using the swing tied to the tree which we have back in my pack. This is sturdier and I can soar further.

Deimos paying heed to my brother's words adds vigour propelling me further whilst I fly high meeting directly with the brightness of the sun. Shutting my eyes to its blinding rays feeling the soft breeze kissing my flesh I indulge in it.

"Theia. It is my turn now. Your time is up." Deimos mutters letting my swing free as the pace swiftly begins to slow down and my legs land upon the grass floor.

"What? You said five minutes it has probably been three! Not fair." I look back at him glaring, my eyes on fire. He had his turn already and he pushed me briskly to get my turn over with.

"We made a deal. You must abide by it." Deimos replies with a shrug walking around preparing to take my seat.

"B-But I- Deimos please. Just a few more pushes. You get to play with this swing whenever you wish I merely come once a month." I plead my truth with a small frown.

"Theia, I cannot use it as well. I train all the time and the only time I get to play on it with no interruptions is when you two come over." And he speaks his truth.

A small whine leaves my lips as I look up at him from beneath my lashes. Just a few more minutes! I adore how Deimos pushes the swing for it is better than Cronus. My brother tends to be slow and cautious which bores me to death. I need Deimos behind me for only a few minutes more that's all!

"That won't work on me Theia. I am not Pho-" Deimos begins but is stopped halfway by his brother.

"Deimos." His low deep voice breaks through our bickering bounding our attention as it is quickly directed at him. Phobos reads a book leaning upon the closest tree bark as always. He calls his brother whilst his eyes are glued to the words that lie within the pages. "Let her play more." He says whilst his fingers turn to the next page.

"But brother it is my turn." Deimos protests.

Phobos finally looks up meeting Deimos's eyes and offers him a swift flash of fang with a low vibrating growl booming from his chest. A warning he gives him. "Spare her a minute and you can take a minute extra on that swing." He concludes waiting patiently for his brother's reply indirectly daring him to go against his words.

Deimos opens his mouth as if he wishes to say something but sighs closing his eyes. "Fine. Fine, she can have another minute." Phobos goes back to his reading the matter solved with ease.

I giggle with success happy that I acquired what I wished twisting around settling back into the seat. I hold my breath ready waiting for him to begin.

"Ready Theia?" Cronus questions.

"Ready!" I roar my right hand pumped into the air. As soon as I utter my words Deimos gives a thorough forceful push using all his strength.

My scream manifests into hearty laughs swinging my legs hands gripping the side ropes tightly for support.

Why is it that playing on the swing gives me such happiness? I like it way better than colouring or painting. Perhaps it is the feeling of wind that grazes my skin or perhaps it is the feeling of flying. As if I were soaring above clouds.

Mother says beyond the clouds is where the moon lies. That she gives me every blessing that comes my way. That I should be prepared for the biggest blessing that shall come my way. When I had asked what it was she refused to answer saying that time shall free the truth.

Closing my eyes again I begin to relax my body setting it free, allowing the movement of it to be controlled by the strength of Deimos's pushes. My fingers involuntarily lessen their tight grip on the ropes. This feels wonderful. Wait what was that word that Phobos taught me?

Oh yes. This feels blissful. Absolutely blissful.

I think my time is almost up now. I need to wait for two turns to get mine. Not a problem I shall go annoy Phobos during the waiting period, despite him never getting annoyed no matter what I do even if I commit them purposely.

Deimos's speed picks up suddenly and I am caught off guard. My hands. Wait I need to hold the ropes tighter.

"D-Deimos wait," I mutter with a low fearful gasp but he does not hear it for he is involved in a deep conversation with my brother.

My eyes widen whilst I struggle to sit properly on the suddenly slippery seat while at the same time try to grab on to the ropes that keep slipping from my grasp.

I am going to fall. I should have been more careful. With one final jarring shove from Deimos, I lose my balance and am flung down onto the hard ground.

"Theia!" Cronus and Deimos shout my name with concern and fear together. I hear quick rushed footsteps as if a wolf was running toward me.

Clenching my eyes shut my heart pounding I prepare to take the hit. But before I could crash I am caught swiftly halfway by two warm hands as he grunts with the force I am seized from and am quickly brought into his chest.

"I've got you, little one," Phobos says with a sigh of relief. Nose tucked into my neck not touching but taking a soft whiff his clutch on me tightens.

Phobos has a habit. A weird habit. He keeps smelling me. Especially my neck. He does it at least a few times when I am in his presence. Yes, father sniffs my neck affectionately but not as long as Phobos. Why does he do it? Perhaps he is checking if I am doing well? I do not feel uncomfortable when he sniffs me rather curious. I do not see him doing this to others, so why just me?

Cronus and Deimos quickly come to our side whilst Phobos lets me down to stand on my feet. His eyes sweep down my body a quick check to satisfy his worry that clings to his flesh.

"I apologize. I was occupied. I should have been paying attention." Deimos comes to my side whispering his apology to me patting my head gently with his palm as an action of his regret.

"The fault lies with both of you. Deimos, you should have watched and controlled your pushes. Theia, you should have kept your grip on those ropes. You were careless. Deimos has apologized, where is your apology, Theia?" Phobos asks whilst peering down at me.

I clasp my hands holding them over my stomach. Eyes glued to my bare feet I whisper, "I am sorry."

"Good, little one," Phobos replies to me. "Next time look me in the eyes and apologize so I can see your truth. As for that matter, you must do so with every wolf."

I give him a nod a bit embarrassed with the fact that I would have fallen face-first onto the grass floor if Phobos hadn't been my saviour.

"Do you wish to play more, Theia? I will let you play as long as you like as an apology." Deimos peers in with his question voice soft and comforting.

Phobos smiles at his brother's words with affection. Cronus stands by not interfering merely allowing the scene to unfold despite him wishing to intervene to check up on me as always.

"You two males go ahead and play. Theia will spend some time with me." Phobos says peering down at me whilst giving me his open palm for me to take.

I swiftly grasp it with no hesitation. Spending time with Phobos is way better than playing on the swing. It is more fun and exciting.

"Is that so? Understood." Deimos replies as he heads back to Cronus whose eyes still linger upon my flesh waiting for my eyes. I look at him and offer a small smile of acknowledgement.

"Come, Theia," Phobos says guiding me by my hand towards the dark shadows of the dense trees. Into a small clearing, we walk through on the other side of the garden protected by a locked gate.

"Are we going to head outside past the gate? Are you finally going to take me?" I question my heart pounding with excitement. I had always asked him to show me what resides over the gate but he refused, saying I still need to be trained further.

"No, Theia." He replies.

"But why? Why? Why? Why?" I whine dragging my feet upon the muddy feet upset that in a way I am still not ready to his satisfaction.

"Because it is not safe." He says taking a swift turn into the familiar arch of vines. This is his pack lands and only pack members reside. The borders are always watched over by scouts. Who or what could it be that he acknowledges as unsafe?

"May I ask why you are walking so slow?" I question peering up at him straining my neck trying to meet his eyes. I often compare him to a giraffe for Phobos is quite tall for his age. Many juveniles get intimidated by his height and he tends to take it to his advantage of remaining peaceful for no wolf dares to disturb him. Except me that is.

"So that your little legs can keep up with me." He looks down at me noticing my struggle. Once he sees that I am satisfied his eyes steer forward leading us on the straight unwavering path until the gate comes into view.

"You have never brought me this close to the gate before." I state whilst exploring the place eyes staring at the target boards plunged deep into the ground. Bows and strings are tied together with several arrows kept separate on the other side. Perhaps warriors practice archery here.

Phobos is busy by the wooden table that holds a variety of knives and blades. Some tiny that can be hidden within any part of one's clothes and some big enough to wield as swords or axes. I stride towards him to stand by his side. There are more arrows here of all kinds as well some silver-tipped and some coloured with a deep shade of red.

Curiosity surges whilst my hands reach to pick one of the knives. I have never been this close to weapons in my life. Cronus has, Deimos has and Phobos definitely has. Every male except me. "Theia!" His voice is raised at me with swift fear pacing within him as I startle and halt my actions, my curiosity dying as soon as it came alive.

"Do not touch them. You do not know to wield any and it shall cause you harm even with the slightest of mishaps like the way you pick it up."

"I...I am sorry." I quickly apologize lowering my head chewing on my lower lip taking a step back feeling bad for I scared him. My curiosity seriously needs to get stolen from me. It always puts me in the path of danger.

There is a minute of pure silence between us the heat of his gaze making me shift further into my shell. Can one turn themselves into a ball and never face any other again? A soft sigh he releases from his lips as he moves towards me. Kneeling holding my hands in his he peers up at me. I do not allow him to meet my eyes waiting for him to deliver his shouting despite him never had done so.

He grips my wrists with a gentle tightness indirectly asking for me to look at him. "I adore your curiosity, little one." He says which makes my eyes broaden and snap to his earning a low chuckle from him. "But you need to have it on a leash. You need to know which certain situations to unleash it and which others to grasp it tighter and disallow it slip past your holds."

"It is hard. I do not know how to control it." I reply.

"Indeed for pups your age still struggle with this." He whispers easing my discomfort.

"Then...did you? Did you have a difficult time too?" I ask my hands still held softly in his.

"In certain ways, yes. But not with curiosity. I dealt well with that." He replies.

"Will you teach me?" I ask.

"That I cannot help you with for that lies within you. Only you shall be able to fight against its power." He replies. "Understand?"

"Yes." I nod heavily showing him with my actions just how determined I am. I will conquer everything to grow into a juvenile like Phobos. I want to be as perfect as him. I shall make the females that surround me envy my strength and power.

"Good. You may stand at my right and watch but do not touch anything." He says whilst shifting to the side allowing me the space to peek at the weapons on display.

"Are you going to teach me to hunt?" I ask my eyes sweeping past the blades that glimmer in the sunlight.

"No. Not today. Today you will be learning something far more important." He replies whilst finally picking up two knives which seem to satisfy his wishes. He flips them over bringing them close to his eyes checking it's build and weight.

"Then what shall I be learning?" If not to hunt or kill what are knives used for? Perhaps to cook?

He turns to me his eyes plunging into mine. "You will be learning the art of knives."

"What?" I question frowning confused at his words. Art of knives? What meaning does it hold?

"It is a dance, Theia." He replies. A dance? He is teaching me to dance? I snort trying to ease in my laughter that wishes to pour.

"My mother already teaches me these things, I do not wish to learn that from you as well." I chuckle whilst showing him my disinterest moving away trying to search for something far more interesting.

"This dance is different. You will acquire two things. Status and the ability to protect." He says as I stop mid path the word 'protect' fighting for entrance into my mind than the others he spewed.

"Status? Protect? How can dance do this? Is dancing not for pure enjoyment?" I question. He tends to mix up things, confuse me with his ways. He turns everything I learn at home upside down.

"This dance is special, Theia. You must learn this for it is important to your future." He mutters.

"My future? Then why did you learn this dance? It does not carry importance to you?" I question with heavy confusion that is unable to rest to his words.

"It is important but not as much as it is to you. I learnt it so that I can teach you." He replies. Teach me? What is this male saying?

"At what age did you learn it?" I ask.

"When I was fourteen." He speaks his truth. He met me merely four years ago. He didn't even know he would meet me so how can he say he learnt it to teach me?

"Show me, this dance of yours. Show me." I say taking a seat on a cut-down tree bark crossing my legs folding my hands across my chest. I shall decide. If I wish to learn it or not depends on how he can captivate me with it.

He stares at me for a minute contemplating whether he should or not but I push him with my eyes and he gives in with no further hesitation. He heads back to the table picking up two knives different to his prior selection for their blades are pitch black in colour whilst their handles are of hardwood.

"These here are called obsidian knives. These are made by peeling a long, thin sliver from the core of the volcanic glass. Sharpest knife of all." He explains as he gets himself into position at a distance from the target board. "Watch carefully, little one."

Eyes closed taking a deep breath he begins to move with elegance. An elegance that catches me off guard for even as I female had none like his. Hands held above his head spine bending backwards he slowly twists his body whilst his wrists rotate the knives captured in his palms. He allows them to slip past one finger to the next with ease.

Foot movements are free sometimes they are pushed forward to stand on his tiptoes heels held above the ground and the other times he propels them back to slide across the mud in a circular manner. He is quite fluent with this dance the years of practice wishing him well.

I watch him dumbfounded for he has managed to capture my complete attention which is impossible with my wavering mind. It is as if he has cast and bound me under his spell for I cannot take my eyes off his flesh. 

His movements change swiftly with no warning eyes snapping open the knives thrown high up into the air. He catches them before they kiss the ground and flings them straight at the throat of the human-shaped target board one striking after the other.

With the force, he used to hurl it the carboard splits easily tearing into two pieces. My mouth wide open in astonishment I stare at the destroyed target.

He turns to me and I meet his eyes mouth still open no words daring to come out. His seriousness disappears and he smiles at me. "It looks as though you are speechless. I shall take that as a compliment."

"How did you- Who taught you- What is this- Wait why?" The questions held in my mind spill free into a product of broken sentences.

"Theia. What are you saying?" He laughs confused at my incomprehensible words.

"What is this dance?" I ask swiftly getting up taking a small step towards him.

"It shall help protect you, Theia. The dance is merely for status and tradition but the knives are for the kill. You will learn both." He says.

"Tradition? Status? I do not understand." 

"You will. But do not think too much of that. Focus on the knives. I will teach you to defend yourself." He says heading back to the table picking up the previous knives he had picked before.

"They look different compared to the obsidian knives." I declare.

"Indeed. These are ceramic knives. They will not cut flesh so it is safe for you to use and you can practice with them." He says.

"By what age must I master this?" 

"Before you reach ten." He replies handing me the knives whilst I remove them from his open palms. They are quite light which shall make it easier for me to swing. By ten? He learnt it by fourteen which means only one thing. I am acing him. 

"Dig your feet into the soil little one. It shall keep you in place. I will teach you to throw first for that is more important than the dance. You must learn to protect yourself, Theia." He says whilst coming to stand behind me for I feel the warmth of his heat.

Hands clamped around my wrist he leads me into position. "Like this?" I ask.

"Yes. Leave your wrists free, you are putting to much strain upon them. They need to sleep if you wish to strike properly." He advises and I pay heed to his words my grip on the knives loosening.

"Where must I aim? The head? The throat?" I question trying to hold my breath whilst he leans into me at my side eyes serious plunged into the target board. "Phobos?" I call him for his attention is elsewhere. On my neck, eyes closed he takes a deep inhale. 

"Phobos!" I call him with a deep annoyance, a shrill to my voice which resurrects him from his haze.

He draws my hand back and propels it forward with a heavy force. My eyes broaden as the knives slip past my fingers striking right at the throat of the target.

"The throat. Once you master it well I shall teach you the head. The head is harder for the skull protects it and your strike needs to possess precision to hit the crucial point that shall c***k it. As for the throat, it is easy to aim for the jugular." He finally answers my question leaving my side to stand in front of me. 

"Why do you keep doing it?" I ask as he holds my shoulders twisting me into a different position. 

"Doing what?" He answers my question with his own demanding further explanation. 

"Smelling me?" His movements halt and his eyes slide up my flesh to meet my eyes. 

"Because I was trying to figure it out. I have done so now." He replies.

"Figure what out?" I probe as I take a step forward and he takes one backward. I am cornering him.

"Your smell. Rather your scent that sticks to your flesh." He answers delivering my answer with truth. 

"And what do I smell like, Phobos?" Is it perhaps a good smell? Is that why he keeps sniffing me?

"Like a flower. Not any flower. In particular, a sunflower." He whispers.  

~~~

A/N

Hello, my little wolves,

I hope you enjoyed this chappy. I know you all have questions about the dance/ art of knives. It will be cleared up later in the book but it is sort of a tradition he is teaching her. His pack's tradition that is. I have a question for you my little wolves!

Do you think Phobos values tradition or not at the current moment in time?

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