Wulf
I had hoped Verena would never see my cursed form, but she must be repulsed by the sight of me.
She will not wish me to be near her ever again, let alone allow me to protect her as I am magically bound to.
The thought of how terrified she must be makes me halt outside the cottage and desperately attempt to shake off the curse.
Sometimes, returning to my human form takes hours.
It can even take days if I continue to kill in this form.
Forcing a transformation so soon after shedding blood is more excruciating than the curse setting in.
Still, I huff and snap my teeth, forcing the pain to overtake me.
At first, I fear I will give out under the strain—but with a great shudder and a snarl of agony, my bones finally begin to break once more.
Several long, hellish minutes later, I am left naked and panting on the forest floor.
I blink moisture from my eyes as I gaze up at the twisted canopy of the Loomdark. Strength has deserted me momentarily from the sheer effort of becoming a man again.
Still, I must rise and seek out Verena.
I loathe frightening her. I must apologize again and ask her not to fear me. I must—
"You give another layer of meaning to choosing the bear."
Turning my head, I realize Verena stands in the doorway of Ida's cottage, the door wide open as she stands watching me. Her delicate floral scent coasts over me, welcoming me back to humanity.
Although her nose wrinkles in obvious repulsion at the gore dripping off me, she is not cowering. In fact, she does not seem to fear me at all, though I was just a mythically large bear.
She misunderstands my confused frown.
"Don't worry about it, big guy. Just another reference to my world." Then she makes a face. "Why aren't you a wolf?"
"What?"
"Your name is Wulf, but you turn into a gigantic bear. That makes no sense."
"That is the part you're questioning?" Eris scoffs from somewhere nearby, though I do not yet see him.
With effort, I rise to my feet, grimacing already at the soreness of my body. I will ache for days.
Not wishing Verena to see her sworn protector so weak, I do my best not to show pain as I brace myself against a nearby tree.
"My full name is Beowulf—meaning, bee wolf. It is a figurative for bear."
After being among the few who have ever witnessed what I become, the elders of my clan renamed me. They thought themselves clever, but I never minded it.
It was merely the truth.
"Oh, my god. Beowulf? As in, that Beowulf?" Verena exclaims, startling me. She looks me over as if seeing me again for the first time before smacking her own forehead. "Holy fuck. One of the Three Stooges mentioned Grendel."
I wipe blood from my face. "I defeated Grendel. His arm hangs as a trophy in my homeland."
"I know! I read about it," she says enthusiastically.
"You can't read," Eris reminds her.
Verena becomes oddly nervous. "Oh, uh…yeah, I meant back in my world.
There are stories about Beowulf there, too.
I'm not sure how that's possible or how accurate they are, considering how this world compares to some other stories, but a few years ago I went through a phase of reading tons of classic world literature, and—wait, where's Little Red Riding Hood? "
I try to keep up. "Little Red…you mean the child Eris mentioned?"
"Yeah. You're supposed to be the guy who cuts open the belly of the wolf and rescues her and her grandma. Didn't you kill those things?"
I finally spy Eris in the broken mirror on the door. When he meets my gaze, I can tell he is also contemplating her particular wording.
Supposed to.
Does this mean she sees the future? Or perhaps she knows of things yet to come because she has read tales of this world in her land, aside from mine.
I notice Verena's gaze has drifted down to my nakedness. My cock twitches as I enjoy her staring, but she swiftly meets my eye once more.
"The leibwraiths are dead," I confirm. "Any souls they consumed were spilled."
"Great. Then let's go grab their souls and pop them back into their bodies, right after you cover up.
Please tell me you packed a change of clothes, because again, I'm only human.
And despite all of that—" She motions vaguely at the dead monsters scattered nearby, refusing to look at them.
"I'm still somehow way too fucking tempted. "
After relishing a bout of bloodshed, I only long to relish her all the more.
However, leibwraiths are far from the only danger in the Loomdark. The sooner I can have my vantaei back to safety, the better.
Now that I have regained some strength, I stride to pick up my bag. As swiftly as I can so Verena is not left defenseless, I rush to the babbling brook and rinse off the worst of the leibwraith blood.
Returning in fresh clothing and a spare set of boots with my bag slung over one shoulder, I find Verena standing in front of Ida's cottage near a fallen monster.
She stares at her hand, which glistens with the monster's foul-smelling blood.
"—telling you, it will not sate you," Eris is in the middle of warning from the shattered mirror on the front door. He spies me and points at Verena. "Wulf. Good. Don't let her lick that. It's revolting."
"All blood is revolting," she grumbles, rubbing the liquid between her fingers. "Besides, how do you know the queen can't drink monster blood? Did you ever see her try it?"
"She mentioned it made her ill."
"That's just the kind of thing a horny, man-eating bitch would say to justify only ever feeding on hot guys," she points out. "Maybe I just need to try it. Even if it tastes like shit, at least I won't have to hurt someone else or make them horny out of their mind, just for me to survive."
"Wulf," Eris repeats plaintively.
I gently take Verena's hand and wipe it on my shirt. She protests getting it dirty, but cleanliness never lasts in the Loomdark, anyway.
"Enough. If you thirst, feed on me."
"As someone who's very against animal cruelty, I can't feed on a bear."
"My curse only makes me into a bear when I spill too much blood."
"Not the best curse to have when you're a kick-ass warrior, huh?" She looks up to examine my face. "I can't believe I've been snacking on the legendary Beowulf this whole time. I'm a nobody in my world. You're a hero."
A hero would not torture an innocent maiden.
He also would not daydream of fucking this beautiful redhead against the nearest tree until her pleasure became too great to bear, as I now daydream. I want Verena flushed with pleasure upon her knees, tasting our combined pleasure on my cock as she milks it with her sweet lips.
I look at our hands, allowing myself to rub the softness of her wrist with my thumb. She claims she is tempted by me—but if she discovers everything I long to do to her, she might fear me again.
But though my lust for her is maddening, it does not compare to the need I have to show Verena she can trust me to protect her.
She must know she is safe with me, always.
"Whatever I was before my misdeeds against you, now I am yours." I meet her eye, needing her to understand this clearly. "No matter what world you occupy henceforth, this will not change."
Her lashes flutter, and her gaze drops to my mouth. I cannot look away from her lips, either, and the small beauty mark posed above one corner. I dare not breathe, praying to the goddess that Verena will close the space between us.
Instead, she steps back to break the spell, pulling her hand away from mine.
"The dead wolf things. Where are they?"
I resist the urge to pull her closer once more and nod in the direction of the massacre. "Your stomach will not enjoy the sight."
Surely enough, when we reach the remains of the other leibwraiths, Verena makes a sound of distress, shutting her eyes. She covers her nose and mouth once more, so her voice comes out muffled.
"Holy fucking gross. Note to self: Never get ripped into a bajillion pieces by a bear."
"No other bear will touch you," I growl immediately, kicking aside a leibwraith head.
"I think I saw a bunch of nasty guts. Are those glowy things the souls?"
I look down at the spilled innards nearby, where the two glowing orbs lie upon the bloodied ground.
"Yes."
"Can you pick them up?"
When I try, my hands pass through them as if they are moonlight. I straighten and start to say they are immovable—but my attention snaps to a cloaked figure in the distance, moving toward us through the trees.
It slows when I spot it, maintaining a careful distance but not leaving.
One of the witchfolk.
The bones of common monsters like these are not valuable to them. Is it these disembodied souls that draw the witch?
If so…
"Perhaps you can," I tell Verena. "You possess the queen's magic."
"Shoot me now," she groans, eyes still shut.
Then she inhales and exhales a few times quickly.
"Okay. It's fine. They're just some slimy guts, Verena.
You've touched guts before, and you survived.
Do it for Little Red Riding Hood and the really pretty dresses you want to give Snow White. One, two, three—trauma time."
She opens her eyes and crouches, scooping up the souls with ease. It is difficult not to laugh at the expression she wears as she gags once more before turning to flee from the carnage.
We return to Ida's cottage, where Eris waits impatiently in the door's broken mirror. As a precaution, I retrieve my uncleaned axe from the carcass-covered ground before following Verena inside.
Though small, the old woman's house is tidy and filled with beautiful ornaments. Rolls of ribbons dangle along one wall beside countless colors of threads.
A mirror is mounted on another wall, since Ida is Ismerian and they cannot seem to go a day without admiring themselves.
A spinning wheel and a loom sit in one corner. Ida lies in her bed in the opposite corner. The wrinkled old woman stares at the ceiling, expressionless and unmoving aside from the rise and fall of her chest.