Blaidd
Even as I said the words, my eyes were trained on the tight curves of her arse.
The dark navy denim hugged her like a second layer of skin.
When she began to walk away from me, all I could do was stare as each cheek insolently swayed with every step she took.
Maybe it was a bad idea to buy her feminine clothing.
She hasn’t eaten, Fenrir growled.
What do you want me to do? Rugby tackle her and force-feed her? I snapped as she turned the corner.
Her stomach had shocked me. She’d hidden it beneath my baggy clothing—the ones she hadn’t destroyed. The proof was there: our children growing inside her. My seed. Then she’d resorted to her usual brand of violence when I’d tried to reassure her by holding her hand.
You should have bonded with someone docile, I said snidely—but even as I said it, I realised it wouldn’t be her. Lielit Tolera.
Fine. I get it. What do you want from me? I continued, turning back toward the house.
I wanted to see where she went from a safe distance.
How about you try not being yourself?
Hey—fuck you.
I made her breakfast, didn't I? What more did he want from me?
Prick.
?
?
?
Over the next few days, we were like ships passing in the night. I gave her space—but I still watched her. Fenrir itched to shift again, but I wasn’t ready to relinquish my hold over my body.
For all my idiosyncrasies, I loved the rich scent of tobacco.
Since she didn’t like the smell of me smoking inside, I took to the garden to light up. She stayed in the living room, watching TV, cocooned on the couch beneath the massive blanket.
I liked that she wore the clothes I’d bought her—and that she was using many of the other items I’d chosen. The cream-and-black swimsuit was a particular success. Sand clung to her thighs and arse, and it was a hit for both of us.
Her figure was fuller now, softer—and I couldn’t help wondering how she’d look at full term.
The truth was, I ached to be inside her again. To touch our children while I moved within her, hot and tight—
Good luck with that, Fenrir snorted.
Her bite was the key.
Something had to give, I couldn’t even manage a Friday night wank anymore.
?
?
?
It all began when I started researching the role of a father in a family. A banal Google search at best.
Until I remembered my father turning on me—when there was something wrong with me. I’d been too young then to know about Fenrir’s existence, or the power he carried with him.
I moved on to psychological reports and academic papers on the impact of rejection and the absentee father, which inevitably led me to single-mother parenthood.
As I sat there, contemplating where I came from, the thought of anyone harming my children—or bullying them for being different, wolf or hyena—turned my blood cold.
Two little babies.
My babies.
Rejected by the world.
I exhaled the breath I’d held onto.
We protect with our lives, Fenrir growled. Our pack is our purpose—our legacy.
Do you remember everything? I asked, feeling dull and empty as the words formed in my mind.
I remember it all—from being awake inside your mother to the day I spoke at her funeral.
I can’t keep her on the island forever.
No.
Her family won’t reject our children…
You’ve watched them as much as I have.
They were simple people, leading ordinary lives—family-oriented.
There were no ifs or buts. I needed to be with my children. They wouldn’t grow up without us.
Finally, Fenrir sighed.
Dickhead. You could have helped me understand, I snapped back.
All of my words would have been refuted—and you know it.
I didn’t spiral, and he didn’t lecture. He’d known me my entire life—better than anyone. I didn’t dispute his words because he was right.
I opened the drawer and took out the ultrasound photo. It was small, but that hadn’t stopped me from snagging a copy before Lielit took most of them. I ran my finger over Baby A, then B. They looked so… delicate.
In my line of work, children were leverage. Pressure points to be exploited and never given a second thought.
And now, this single image felt heavier than any dossier I’d ever held. It tugged on something that I never thought I’d feel.
Weakness.
?
?
?
The evening came and went. I walked, smoked, paced, then lay in bed wide awake.
Every problem had a solution.
And there was only one thing left I could offer her.
On my terms.
?
?
?
I waited until she’d finished breakfast and left the kitchen. There were too many blades and pointed objects. She was pulling on her jacket when I decided to follow her outside.
What was she going to do—whip me with a branch?
Sá er eigi heill í hug, Fenrir grumbled in Old Norse.
One who is not whole in the mind.
He only slipped into his old language when he was extremely tense.
You’d let her whip you, wouldn’t you? I smirked, picking up my pace when I saw she was heading for the beach.
I’d let her whip you.
You have let her beat me, you arsehole.
I felt his satisfaction. He’d do it again.
Traitor.
The beach was safe. There was only sand and water.