Page 112 of Blood of the Fairest

Until I see Verena peering out of a window. She flinches back, eyes widening.

Like cold water to a flame, I realize that, once again, I have frightened the woman I am sworn to protect.

27

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.