Fenrir
I didn't chase after him. Part of me wanted to—wanted to sink my teeth into his arrogance, to finally show him that I wasn't the boy he used to sneer at. But if I did, Isolde would see more than a wolf. She'd see the monster everyone said I was.
So I stayed rooted in the meadow, fists clenched, chest tight, the scent of Alaric's departure still sour in the air.
Isolde's voice pulled me back.
"You two…" She shook her head, stepping closer. "It's like nothing's changed. Always circling each other, ready to tear each other apart."
I tried to laugh, but it came out rough. "Because nothing has changed. He still thinks he can control you. He still thinks I should stay away."
Her eyes softened, and gods, I hated the way my heart stumbled under that look. "Maybe he's just… worried."
"Worried?" I snapped before I could stop myself. "Isolde, he's not protecting you—he's protecting himself. His kind doesn't care about rules, or promises, or anyone else. They care about power. That's it."
She flinched, and instantly I regretted it. Not because I thought I was wrong, but because I hated seeing her retreat even an inch from me. I reached for her hand again, slower this time. She didn't pull away, though her fingers trembled when they met mine.
"I won't let him—or anyone—decide what happens to us," I said quietly. "I swore it when we were kids, and I swear it now."
Her lips parted, as if she might answer—but before she could, the sharp snap of a branch cut through the meadow. Every nerve in me lit up. That wasn't Alaric. That wasn't her. It was the pack. And if they saw her here, with me… The promise I'd just made might be broken before it ever had a chance to live.
The wind shifted, and I caught it—the musk of fur, sweat, and iron. The pack. Too close.
Before I could move, shadows spilled from the treeline. Three wolves in their human skins, but no less dangerous. Their eyes glowed faintly under the moonlight, a reminder of what coiled just beneath their flesh.
"Fenrir."
The one in front—Kaelen, broad-shouldered and twice as smug—folded his arms. His gaze cut past me, straight to where Isolde stood frozen by the riverbank. "Well, well. What have we here?"
A growl rumbled in my throat before I could stop it. "She's with me."
Kaelen's smirk deepened. "A human? Out here? With you? Does the Alpha know about this little hobby of yours?"
Heat rushed through me, anger and fear twisting tight in my chest. They couldn't know what she was—not her power, not the truth that made her dangerous in ways they couldn't even imagine.
"Leave her out of this," I snapped.
The other two shifted restlessly, teeth flashing in the dim light. Kaelen, though, looked delighted, like a wolf who'd found an injured fawn. "Funny. I thought humans were forbidden. Or are you special enough to rewrite the laws?"
Isolde took a step forward, voice steady even though I felt her pulse hammering in her hand. "I can speak for myself."
Kaelen's laughter was sharp. "Oh, I like her."
I stepped in front of her before he could take another look, my body between her and the pack. The wolf inside me surged, claws itching beneath my skin.
"She's under my protection," I said, low and certain.
That earned me silence. Heavy, dangerous silence. Even Kaelen's smirk faltered, just a fraction. Because those words weren't a joke, not in our world. To claim protection was to claim blood, bond, defiance, every single one of us knew it.
For a moment, no one moved. The meadow had gone still again, but not with peace—with tension so sharp it could cut.
Kaelen's eyes glittered, a predator's amusement giving way to something hungrier. He leaned just slightly forward, enough to make the others shift closer, their scents flaring with anticipation.
"Your protection, huh?" His voice was mocking, but I heard the edge beneath it. "That's a dangerous claim, Fenrir. Especially when she smells so… breakable."
The wolf in me surged to the surface, my vision narrowing, claws prickling at my skin. But before I could lunge, before blood could spill, Kaelen lifted his hand and stopped the others with a flick of his fingers.
"Not tonight."
The disappointment in the air was almost tangible. The two at his back growled softly, but Kaelen only grinned, stepping back toward the treeline. "I think the Alpha will want to hear about this little… discovery. Let him decide what to do with you and your human."
My heart hammered. I wanted to tear his throat out, to silence him before the words could ever reach the Alpha's ear. But I couldn't—not here, not with Isolde behind me, her fear a trembling flame I was desperate to shield.
So I stood my ground as Kaelen and the others melted into the darkness, their laughter trailing behind them like claws scraping stone. When they were gone, Isolde finally spoke.
"Fenrir… what happens now?"
I turned to her, every muscle in me straining against the answer I didn't want to give.
"Now," I said, voice low, "I fight for us. Or I lose everything."
The silence after they left felt heavier than their presence. My breath came harsh, my pulse still burning with the wolf's fury. She was there, close enough that I could feel her warmth, her fear, her trust.
"Fenrir," she whispered, her hand brushing my arm. "You shouldn't have done that. You shouldn't have claimed me like that."
Her words cut, but not in the way she meant. I turned to her, catching the shimmer of moonlight in her eyes. "You think I regret it?"
"You've just painted a target on your back. On mine," she said, voice trembling. "The Alpha won't—"
"I don't care about the Alpha," I snapped, then softened when I saw her flinch. I lowered my head, trying to steady the storm in me. "I care about you. I've always cared about you."
Her lips parted, like she wanted to argue, but nothing came. Only silence.
I took her hand again, slowly, giving her the chance to pull away. She didn't. Her fingers curled into mine, hesitant but certain.
"You're not just some human to me, Isolde," I said, barely more than a growl. "You never were. And if standing between you and them makes me an enemy of my own blood…" I lifted my gaze to hers, fierce, unyielding. "Then so be it."
Her breath caught, and for a moment, I thought she might cry. Instead, she stepped closer until her forehead pressed against my chest.
"I don't want you to lose everything because of me," she whispered.
I wrapped my arms around her, holding her tighter than I should've. "Then don't give me the choice," I murmured. "Stay. With me. Always."
The night seemed to breathe with us, the meadow alive with old promises and dangerous new ones. And though the threat of the pack loomed larger than ever, for the first time in years, I felt whole again.