Past the woman’s scent, I could tell the cook was baking dessert for dinner. I had around an hour to play with before dinner was ready.
By the time I returned to the bedroom, I could smell the whore’s enthusiasm.
It wouldn't be a pleasant hour for her.
But this is what I needed tonight.
???
After a shower and dinner, I took a stroll through the back garden, ignoring the voice as I lit a cigarette—a bone of contention with my subconscious.
I inhaled deeply, filling my lungs with thick smoke before exhaling into the night. I watched it dissipate into the darkness.
This was life here one day and gone the next.
Not us.
It is time for the truth, Blaidd, the voice said, no longer a whisper.
What do you mean?I asked, lifting the cigarette for another drag.
Something rippled inside me.
No—not rippled. Shifted.
It was part of me.
My name is Fenrir, son of Loki, destroyer of gods.
The cigarette slipped from my fingers.
Our mother is gone. We only have each other.
I tilted my head, closing my eyes.
My monster.
Yes. I am here. I always have been—from the very beginning.
My body grew heavier as my skin stretched. I surrendered to the sensation, recognising it as something I had been waiting for my entire life. This was why I never fit anywhere. I didn’t fight it.
My hands curled, sharp claws pricking my palms.
I smiled.
By the time the motion completed, the transformation had settled into place.
My eyes snapped open.
Oh. I liked this.
I padded forward, glancing down at my massive paws. Though the night was pitch black, I could see everything as clearly as day. The foliage. The earth. The different trees, each distinct.
I inhaled again and caught the faint trace of the woman still clinging to me, even after the shower.
I stepped onto the grass, feeling every blade beneath me. It was as though my feet were touching the ground for the first time.
Then I felt him—Loki’s son. A myth I had once dismissed as ancient stories embellished by drunken warriors.
