In a perfect world, Celine would have woken and escaped her nightmare.
Except her world wasn’t perfect.
And the nightmare was real.
Her only chance at salvation is a stranger who makes no promises, and leads her on a journey into the very darkness she thought she had escaped. As their forbidden romance grows, Celine discovers that it takes a monster to defeat a monster.
Fenrir has endured a lifetime of servitude, bound to a destiny ordained by the gods. Until he meets Celine, and the delicate human steals his heart. When the world shatters around them, and war looms on the horizon, Fen is forced to make the ultimate choice between love and fate.
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Fen’s eyes went from blue to a glittering black, as he faded back into the shadows, practically turning into one himself. Fascinated, Celine breathed, “Show me what you really are, Fenrir.”
Fenrir shook his head. “The monster is not some plaything. In your mortal world, he doesn’t come out gently, and he only comes out to hunt. My other side is a beast, Celine, a monster. Do not ever ask me to show him to you, do not ever ask for him to reveal himself to you.” Fen took her by the arms until she listened. “Do you understand me? He would kill you, he would tear you apart, for in this realm, he is a monster and knows only how to kill.”
“But in my dreams he didn’t hurt me?”
“In different realms, he is a different sort of beast. In that place, calmed under the spell of the Otherworld, he’s safer, more controlled by the layers of magic there. But here? Never, ever call him out. Never, ever ask me to show him to you. Tell me you understand.”
He let her go, running his hands apologetically down her arms. “I am sorry, but you can’t do that. He would… He would be dangerous.”
“So you really are a wolf?”
He nodded, falling into the chair again. Her smile turned part mischievous, and she teasingly ran a finger across the expanse of his shoulders, listening to his breathing turn ragged. “I love wolves. Have I ever told you that?”
She circled him, feeling cast adrift, as if he was the anchor and she was a whirlpool, being drawn inexorably inward. Reaching out a hand she traced his arm, chest, shoulder, back, slowing as the gravity of him pulled her in, pulled her to a stop right in front of him.
“I can’t seem to think straight today, Fen,” She whispered, leaning in. “All I can do is feel. And I’m feeling way too much.” She ran her hands up to cup his face, searching his eyes, that beautiful darkness shining inside of them. Before she changed her mind, she pulled his mouth to hers. She wasn’t sure what he was going to taste like or even what she was going to do, but she wanted to feel those lips against hers, she wanted to feel him against her. She liked how she felt when she was around him.
Grounded, instead of feeling like she was about to fly off the edge of the world.