"Honey." 

Skylark's eyes shot open at the sound of his mother's voice entering his ears. He sprang up to a seated position, which was a mistake. He couldn't deny even for a moment that what had happened was a dream. His back and thighs were radiating with intense pain. He was sore beyond sore. A wave of nausea rushed over his body worried about the state of himself. What would his mother think? But much to his surprise he was fully clothed and seemingly scrubbed clean. His mother stood in the doorway, awaiting a response from her beloved son.

"You must have had quite the return." She stated, "You've been out cold for two days." 

"I'm sorry mother." Skylark cleared his throat, "It was just a rough journey." He assured her.

"Come, it's almost time to give thanks to Coyotl." She smiled warmly before she left, walking down the hall to head towards the church.

Skylark let out a heavy sigh as he lay back on his bed. Staring at the ceiling. If he thought about it for too long, he could still feel the wolf inside him. He shuddered and shivered as he shook his head; as if to shake away the sensation and memory. He promptly willed himself up from the bed and to the bathroom where he stripped. A sensation of unholy betrayal swept over his body as he stared at the scar on his neck. He ran his fingers along the bite mark, remembering instantly how it felt to receive the mark as though it was currently happening. He swiftly pulled his fingers away as he trembled. Somehow the injury he had received not long ago was fully healed. It was impossible. He remembered Wolfgang aggressively licking and kissing the area which only made him more confused. Lunar-mates could heal each other with their saliva, but that was a wolf thing that was shared between wolves. Coyote's were incapable. His saliva should not have worked on Skylark. There were bruises riddled over his body from the wolves that had attacked him. He couldn't stand to look at himself for too long so he quickly showered and got dressed in his Sunday best. 

As Skylark stepped foot on the sacred and holy grounds of the church he felt as though his presence itself was a disgrace. The sermon was well underway as he sat in the back. There was a young man dressed up as Coyotl, a great honor, in flowing vestments that resembled a starry night sky. A long silver wig attached to a porcelain painted coyote mask. Skylark watched as he danced gracefully to the beat of the drummer's drumming. Sweat began to drip down his neck and chest. With each pounding of the drum he could feel it strike his body and remember the force of the wolf claiming him. 

"Skylark." That dreamy voice bit at his earlobe.

"Sky." Skylark's parents stood before him causing him to spring up. People were filing out of the church, some staying behind to socialize. 

"We have someone we want you to meet, son." His father said.

Ah, yes, the reason he came home in the first place.

The young man who was dressed as Coyotl approached.

"This is Sunny Lightpaw." His mother explained.

He was younger than Skylark. Meeker and more mild. Strawberry blonde, red tinged hair. Green eyes and tan skin. He smelled of orange and lavender. There was no mistaking that he was an omega. He was blushing like a schoolgirl. "Hello." His voice was almost angelic. Any alpha would be thrilled to be introduced to him.

"Hi." Skylark replied as he could see something move in the farthest corner of his sight. 

"He will be your mate." His father informed, nonchalantly.

Skylark could feel his heart drop. His eyes wandered to the edge of his vision. Out beyond the stained glass window, behind a grand tree overlooking the area, he swore he saw Wolfgang standing there staring at him with an intensity that could paralyze someone on the spot. But that was impossible, no wolf would ever dare to get this close to the enemy. Although, Wolfgang had gone above and beyond that. The coyote could still taste the wolf on his lips. Skylark bit into his bottom lip as his skin vibrated with excitement. His parents exchanged a glance, thinking his reaction was for the coyote standing in front of him. They were pleased with themselves as they stepped away, allowing the two to get better acquainted, unknowingly signing the poor young and unassuming coyote's death warrant with the simple traditional act. The executioner circled the coyote territory, keeping a close eye on his prey but most importantly his prize.