His words, so sincere and filled with determination and strength, make my heart swell. I grin at him, feeling a warmth spread through my chest. “You won’t get sick of me?” I ask, half-joking but also seeking reassurance.
“I might.” He nudges my shoulder playfully, a smirk tugging at his lips. “But you’ll have to work really hard to make that happen. We are Anam Cara.”
We sit there for a moment, the world around us fading into the background. The fireflies continue their dance, the twilight sky casting a gentle glow over us. Fenris’s presence is comforting, a steadfast promise of protection and friendship. I lean into him, feeling the truth of his promise, knowing that whatever the future holds, we will face it together.
“Mother is taking me into the village tomorrow. Want to come?”
Fenris looks away, focusing on the setting sun. “I can’t. I have to train.”
I can’t help but sigh at the thought of him not being able to accompany us. “You’re always training,” I complain.
“Someone has to protect you.”
I smile. “I will bring you back those pastries you love.”
Fenris's eyes light up, and he grins. “You better.”
“I will, I promise.”
“You shouldn’t make promises, Vera,” Fenris says sternly.
I grin over at him. “I promise you and I will be best friends forever and ever.”
Fenris’s growl deepens, a warning that drags me back to the present. My legs feel like lead, and I gasp, blinking back tears as I focus on the wolf pacing back and forth in front of me. Thememory that overwhelmed me was of us, just two days before my parents were killed and I was sent to the human realm.
“Fenris,” I breathe, emotions well up at the thought of the pain my childhood friend must have gone through. He had to endure my sudden disappearance, and worse, my return with no memory of him.
I’m about to take a step forward when Eve suddenly blocks my way. Her hand snaps out, flicking Fenris on the ear with surprising authority.
“Boy, you should know better than this,” she scolds.
Fenris stops pacing, his wolf eyes meeting mine with a mixture of sorrow and longing.
“Eve, it’s okay,” I say, my voice shaking.
Valric appears at my side, his arms crossed over his chest. “It’s not. We can’t have him letting his emotions control his actions. I taught him better than that.”
Fenris shifts back to his human form, his eyes locked onto mine. “Do you remember now?”
“Yes,” I breathe. “I’m so–”
“It wasn’t your fucking fault!” he yells, the sound ripping through the air.
I hear footsteps approaching from behind, but I can’t tear my eyes from Fenris. Despite his outward display of anger, his eyes reveal a deep sense of hurt and anguish. He has been keeping it bottled up since he got here. My chest splinters as I imagine the pain he must be feeling.
“Boy, you need to take a walk!” Valric barks, striding over to him.
“Don’t speak to me, old man. You left; you have no right.”
Confusion clouds my brain as I blink, trying to make sense of what he said. I watch as Eve cups Fenris’s face gently in her hands. Then, like a lightning strike, realization hits me. Eve is Fenris’s mother, and Valric is his father. That is the reason why his eyes are a combination of violet and brown, and even though he’s a shifter, he has pointed ears.
A hand slips into mine. I look over my shoulder to see we have an audience. Zaria squeezes my hand, understanding reflecting in her eyes. She heard what was said. Scarlett stands with Mia behind Kian and Tristan. All the other soldiers training have also stopped to watch the scene unfold.
“What is going on here?” Raiden’s voice booms through the arena.
I take a hesitant step toward Fenris. I don’t care about the questions or the looks from those around us—I care about him. I see it now, the truth I should have recognized all along. He doesn’t hate me. The anger, the coldness, the distance—it wasn’t about me. It was about what happened to me, about the pain and helplessness he couldn’t bear.
“Fenris,” I whisper, my voice barely audible over the blood rushing in my ears. I want to reach for him, to ease the torment written in every tense line of his massive form. But as I take another step forward, his head snaps up, and he shakes it, a silent plea for me to stop. His bright eyes are conflicted, swirling with emotions I can’t quite name—regret, pain, guilt.
