Page 39 of Fenrir

He started to pull out, but she stopped him.

“It’s okay. I just… I need time to adjust. You’re just much bigger than I had anticipated.”

He shook his head. “No. This is wrong. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Grace. We should have waited. I should have waited.”

She cupped his face and forced him to look at her. “Fen. I wanted this as much as you.”

“We should stop.”

“Do you want to stop?”

His expression went from terrified to conflicted. “I… I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Pain is inevitable in life. It’s pleasure that makes the pain worth it.”

Fenrir pulled out, and when he went to pull her into his arms, he sniffed and then let out a whine as he looked down.

“Grace, you’re bleeding.” He jumped from the bed. “I hurt you. I made you bleed. I am an animal.” He shook his head. “A monster. All I do is destroy. It’s all I’m good for. I should never have done this.”

Grace’s heart crushed inward. “Fen, stop.”

He paced back and forth, hitting himself in the head.

Her spirit self called out to him. Grace rose painfully from her bed and went to him, grabbing his hands.

“Fen. Stop. Stop.”

He refused to look her in the eye.

“Fenrir, look at me.”

He refused to for a moment longer, and then his tormented gaze connected with her.

“Fen. The blood is nothing. It always happens the first time.”

He shook his head. “I hurt you. I broke you. I break everything.”

Grace wrapped her arms around his middle and held him tight. “Listen to me. I wouldn’t lie to you. I’m telling you this is natural.”

“You’re in pain.”

She nodded. “Yes. There is some pain, but it’s okay. I’m okay.”

He searched her face, and a whine escaped him as he cupped her cheeks. “I should kill myself for hurting you.”

“Don’t talk like that. This was our first time. It didn’t work as well as we had hoped. But there’s time to keep trying. Besides, there are other things we can do.”

“Other things?”

Grace smiled and led Fenrir back toward her bed. For a moment, she thought she’d succeeded in calming him, but the moment she let go of his hand to lay down, he shook his head and grabbed his pants, pulling them on.

He reached for his shirt. “I… I can’t.”

“Fen. Don’t go,” she pleaded. “Don’t run from me. Stay. Please. I need you.”

He whined, then his eyes traveled to a dark spot lower on the bed. She looked down at the bloodstain on her comforter and knew it was useless.

“I’m no good for you, Grace. You are an angel. A Goddess of moonlight, and I don’t deserve you. I don’t deserve good things. I’m nothing more than a beast.” And without another word, he raced from her room.

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