Blaidd
The pain was instant—searing through my eyes, my vision exploding into white heat. Tears poured down my face as my body tried to flush the substance out. Fenrir’s fury slammed beneath my sternum, a violent pulse that made it hard to breathe.
My useless guards shoved fucking napkins at me as if that would help.
“Get me to my doctor,” I snapped, blinking blindly, “and bring cold water. Now.”
I tried to focus—tried to find her through the blur.
“She ran, sir,” one of the twats said, gripping my arm.
Like a fucking invalid, I was guided into the car. Another bottle of water was pressed into my hand. I didn’t dare tip my head back yet—didn’t trust myself not to make it worse.
Oh, that bitch would pay.
She would pay dearly.
She thought she could survive.
No one survived me.
Even with Fenrir’s healing blood flooding my system, the pain lingered—raw and relentless. Pepper spray was illegal, but she was a chemist. Any lethal capsicum with a high Scoville rating would’ve done the trick. If not for Fenrir, I could be fucking blind.
I forced myself to douse my eyes, again and again, blinking through agony until blurred shapes finally emerged.
Relief came in fragments.
Rage, whole.
I would burn her in ways she couldn’t imagine.
Water streamed down my face, my neck, soaking my shirt and ruining the suit as I rinsed again.
Oh, she would burn—when I stripped her down to flesh.
It was only then that I understood I had never truly known pain.
Scratches. Cuts. Minor wounds—all of it healed within a day. Forgotten.
This was different.
This was excruciating.
The car came to a stop. I heard my doctor’s voice somewhere nearby, urgent, controlled—but I didn’t move.
My mind was already elsewhere.
Lielit wouldn’t suffer physical pain alone. That would imply mercy.
I would dismantle her slowly—thought by thought, certainty by certainty—until there was nothing left of her but fragments.
I wouldn’t destroy her body.
I would erase her. Until nothing remained.
?
?
?
I lifted the mirror again, staring at my bloodshot eyes. Each time I caught sight of the burst red vessels and the raw skin around my eyes and nose, I cursed her to Hel.
The guards were gone—fired. Two new idiots had already taken their place.
Fenrir had been silent. It wasn’t until I lit a cigarette that he finally spoke.
We take her. Hold her captive. It’s the only way to ensure our safety.
A pause. Thoughtful.
Now I understand why they kept me in chains.
I closed my eyes against the smoke and took a slow drag, flicking the lighter toward the table. I heard it bounce once before clattering to the floor.
“You fear her?” I scoffed.
But the idea lingered.
Breaking her down, day by day. Stripping away her resistance until she knelt—not forced.
Willing.
My eyes would heal, but her scars would be mine.
Because they wouldn't show on the outside.
?
?
?
The pain faded, but the bloodshot veins lingered. Calm settled between us as I planned ahead.
It took three weeks to finalise the purchase of Caer Virel, and another to relocate the remaining inhabitants. The island was remote—close enough for a helicopter commute, yet distant enough to keep her contained.
This was the most significant acquisition of my life. Not the land, but the woman who had dared to fight back. The one person who wasn’t quite human. There was something dark residing in her blood, waiting.
The boathouse by the dock would house the staff, kept well away from the estate. As for her? Where would she go? A swim into open water, or the jagged rocks beneath the cliffs that crowned the house?
The tunnels and the old cellar were ideal. A perfect training ground. To preserve the property’s history, the iron loops remained embedded in the stone walls. She would learn gratitude when she earned the right to a glimpse of sunlight.
I left the house and tunnel floor plans spread across my desk. Each day grew more exhilarating than the last.
Killing her without understanding what lived inside her would be foolish. There was no other half-god wolf in existence. That distinction belonged to us alone.
She was a puzzle.
And we would unlock her—then contain her.
She might be a survivor, but so were we.
?
?
?
I checked the little red dot on my phone. It blinked her location. A false emergency for her colleague meant she was alone in the office.
“Drive,” I said and sat back in the leather seat.
Fenrir quivered. Not in fear but anticipation. The type he had when we had live prey. When we gave them a glimmer of hope and told them to run.
I texted the man on standby for the next phase.
Me: Deliver her coffee.
It was from the same shop they always frequented—one they trusted. Routine and ritual were something I knew. It was comforting.
I messaged the man on the inside at the docks.
Me: Is my shipping container ready and the paperwork complete?
Both replied.
I slipped my phone into my pocket to enjoy the sight of the city. My hunting ground for the weak.
Soon, everything would go back to normal.
Business as usual.
?
?
?
The car door opened, and I stepped out, straightening my jacket before entering the rear of her office building. We could smell her before we even reached the stairs. Soon, that scent would be locked away from everyone but us.
“Wait here,” I told the guards as I approached her office door.
The gold plaque beside it almost made me smile.
Her Glow.
The polished wooden door had two narrow glass panels. I pressed the handle down and peered inside. No one was visible.
I stepped in and went straight to her office.
She lay slumped over her desk.
The room was saturated with her scent. It infuriated me that she didn’t stink like the rest of them.
She wore a deep, dark purple blouse.
I touched her shoulders and pulled her back. The silkiness of the fabric nearly made me withdraw my hands—but as I bent closer, her pulse beat slow and steady at her jugular. I inhaled carefully.
The scent radiated strongest from her neck.
It was fucking unnatural.
Fenrir stirred—just a flicker. I paused to decipher it, and it turned out to be recognition.
What is she? I pressed.
I don’t know, he replied faintly.
It was gone.
Something was wrong with him, but I didn’t stop. I breathed through my mouth and hauled her over my shoulder.
The guard opened the door as I approached. I jogged down the stairs, checking once more that there were no cameras I hadn’t already accounted for.
When the other guard opened the car door, I shook my head.
“The boot,” I said.
He didn’t hesitate. Just obeyed.
I didn’t want to smell her on the way to the docks.