Fenrir knocked the entrance door out with his foot, Astrea’s bleeding body in his hands, his heart racing the way it didn’t for the past century. If he lost her this lifetime like this, he wouldn’t be able to go on anymore...
She was so tiny. Every time he was forgetting how small she was in comparison to him, how fragile…
A mortal, not a deity.
Her life was slipping away, and he couldn’t take it.
“Fenrir, she is a traitor!” Salome insisted. “Heal her if you are so kind, but—”
A loud growl was his response to her, and the witch shuddered, exchanging glances with Warg and Bash.
“Fenrir!” She let out a frustrated sound when they followed him upstairs, and she realised he was taking Astrea to his bedroom. “Doesn’t she have her own room?”
“Does it look like I give a damn?” The man grow
