The Complete Fenris Series

by Samantha MacLeod

  “It’s fine.” I waved him off. Exhaustion pressed down on me, heavy and thick, like a wool blanket. “Please. Let’s just get some sleep.”

  I PULLED AND WIGGLED my way out of the constrictive dress then collapsed onto the feather bed, wrapping myself in the furs, lost to sleep before Fenris even had the chance to crawl in next to me. My dreams were dark and troubled, full of the hot spray of blood across my face and the wet smack of the soldier’s body hitting the cobblestones. At some point I became aware of the sun filling the cave with gentle, diffused light. I rolled over, ignoring it.

  Some time later, Fenris ran his fingers gently across my shoulder and down to the base of my neck. My stomach rolled, but I remained motionless. He withdrew his hand. Several minutes later, the furs rustled heavily as he pushed them aside and left the cave. Sleep pulled me back into its dark depths.

  When I finally extracted myself from the tangle of furs on our bed, the morning birds had fallen silent, and the light seeping through the cave’s entrance was thick and strong. It was already late morning, then. How Ma would have screamed if I’d slept until late morning at home! I wiped my eyes and stretched, feeling deliciously lazy.

  The motion made my stomach churn. I bent over, gritting my teeth and trying to breathe through my nose. Trying to will myself not to throw up again.

  Bile rose in my throat; I jumped to my feet. I wasn’t going to win this battle. I squeezed through the cave’s entrance and fell on my knees outside, emptying my stomach onto the leaf-dappled scree surrounding the cave.

  “Shit!” Fenris said from behind me.

  I wiped my mouth and turned to see Fenris, his brow furrowed and his lips curled into something that almost resembled a snarl.

  “It didn’t work!” he cried.

  I tried to stand, but my legs trembled, and my stomach still felt raw and angry. Instead, I forced myself to breathe, letting the nausea wash over me. It would ebb soon, if past experience was any guide. I’d be able to eat in just a few minutes.

  “I’m fine,” I said, although my voice wavered.

  “Shit!” Fenris spun and slammed his fist into the slender trunk of a birch tree, releasing a torrent of golden leaves.

  “I’m fine!” I snapped, louder this time.

  Fenris turned to me, his bright eyes wide and wild. “What in the Nine Realms was the point? Why did we go to Evenfel at all if the food didn’t make you better?”

  I stood and reached for him. When I leaned against him, I heard his heart thudding as though he’d just run a race.

  “I’m fine.” I ran my fingers up and down the bare muscles of his back. “I feel better already. It’s just—I just feel sick in the morning sometimes, is all ...”

  My words trailed off as the full impact of what I’d just said hit me.

  Everything in my life shifted and then fell into place, as though I’d been looking at the same picture for days, but someone just flipped it upside-down. And now it all made sense.

  “I’m pregnant,” I whispered.

  Fenris’s body went very stiff in my arms. “You’re what?”

  “I’m going to have a baby.”

  He pulled out of my arms and took a long, slow step backward. “A what?”

  I ran my hands through my hair. My fingers trembled, catching the tangles of my curls. “I mean, it’s too soon to know for sure. We won’t know that for a few more days ... not until I miss my flow on the new moon. But it makes sense! Why I’ve been so tired. Why I’ve been sick. Oh, Fenris!”

  My entire body started to tremble. I took a step toward Fenris, wanting the comfort of his strong arms. A baby, by the Realms! Was it just a month ago I’d seen the blood between my legs and mourned that I had no baby to take with me to Nøkkyn’s castle?

  Fenris took a step back. “No.”

  “What?”

  He shook his head. “No. No, you can’t be.”

  Something broke inside me. Something with sharp edges.

  “Did you say ... no?”

  “We can’t,” Fenris said, still shaking his head. “We can’t have a baby. Not here. No.”

  I froze as the burst of joy which had just blossomed deep in my chest curled in on itself. My vision started to blur.

  “We ... can’t?” I echoed woodenly, my voice cracking.

  “This—this is all wrong.” Fenris’s voice sounded high and pinched, like something was tightening around his ribs.

  Heat flared in my chest and grew until it hardened into anger. The injustice of his response rose in my throat like hot bile.

  “Well, excuse me if I didn’t ask your permission first!” I snapped. “Do you realize this wasn’t my decision? I didn’t just wake up one morning and say, hey, I think I’ll throw up for days on end!”

  “No—”

  “Do you think I decided to make a baby all by myself?” I yelled.

  “I— I—” Fenris stammered. As if his protest would change anything.

  “This!” I thrust my hands down the length of my own body, the body that now carried part of Fenris as well, and then raised my arms to wave them toward the cave and out over the entirety of the Ironwood. “All of this! This is your fault!”

  Fenris stopped speaking and stared at me, his mouth and eyes round. His face had gone very pale.

  “What, in the Nine bleeding Realms, did you think would happen?” I yelled. “What did you expect, damn it!”

  Fenris opened his mouth, closed it, took a step backward. Rage burned inside me as hot and bright as the sun.

  “You kept planting your seed in me!” I cried. “Over and over, you fucked me! Didn’t they teach you where babies come from in Angrboða’s castle?”

  Birds flew from the trees around us, frightened by my screaming.

  “I guess even a whore like me will get pregnant, if you Never! Stop! Fucking! Her!” I spat.

  I regretted the words as soon as they’d flown from my mouth, but by then it was too late. Fenris recoiled as if I’d slapped him. I couldn’t stand to watch him any longer; I spun on my heels and ran for the cave.

  “Sol!” he called.

  “Fuck you!” I cried. “Leave me alone!”

  My words were so choked with tears, I doubted he’d be able to understand them.

  THE MONSTER’S WIFE: CHAPTER NINE

  I collapsed onto the mattress and pulled my knees to my chest as though they could somehow contain the vast, aching hole in my heart. I sobbed, drifting in and out of the dark comforts of sleep, my thoughts a knotty tangle. My chest felt tight, as though something deep inside me had clenched around my heart and lungs.

  There weren’t many options for me, honestly. If Fenris no longer wanted me here, I’d have to return to my family. Ma, Jael, and Egren would take me in, of course, although in their secret hearts they may curse an extra mouth to feed. Two extra mouths to feed, actually.

  And I wouldn’t be able to help them fulfill their lumber quota for next year, not burdened with pregnancy and an infant. Come the next Reaping, they’d have King Nøkkyn’s taxman on their doorstep and no whore to sell him.

  No whore anyone would want, at least.

  The light vanished from the cave. I heard the soft scrape of Fenris’s body pressing through the entrance crack. I scrunched my eyes closed and rolled over on my side, facing the hard stone wall.

  He said nothing. I heard him shift on his feet for a moment, then sink to sit beside me on the mattress. I cracked open my eyes just enough to see his shadow on the wall. The shadow moved, reached out a hand to touch me, then pulled it back. Tears slid down the curve of my cheeks.

  Fenris cleared his throat. It sounded loud in the small space.

  “I’m sorry,” he said.

  I shifted just enough to let him know I was awake, and listening.

  “Sol.”

  His voice was so small, almost timid. I’d never heard him speak like that before, and it sent a chill down the back of my neck. I pulled the heavy fur off my head to meet his eyes. They looked r
ed and puffy, as though he’d been crying, although the idea of the great monster Fenris crying seemed ridiculous.

  “I don’t want a governess,” Fenris said. It sounded like he was speaking through gritted teeth. “I hated mine, and I don’t want to do that to our child. No tutors either.”

  I pushed the furs off my chest and sat up. I must have misheard him, because what Fenris had just said made no sense at all.

  “A what?”

  His red-rimmed eyes met mine. “A governess,” he said, almost apologetically. “I don’t want one. If that’s acceptable.”

  Oh, stars, I should not have laughed! I just couldn’t help it; the giggle welled up from somewhere deep inside me and slipped free from my lips before I could clamp them shut. Fenris’s frown deepened. I grabbed his hand.

  “I’m sorry. But...a governess? Here?” I swept my hand around our cave, my fingers almost scraping the rock wall. “Where would she sleep? Between the two of us?”

  Fenris gave me a sad smile. “We can’t stay here.”

  “What? Why not?”

  He closed his eyes and took a long, shaky breath. “Sol. Where would we put the baby?”

  I glanced around the cave’s tiny, sunlit interior. The huge feather mattress, now more of a dusty gray than a bright white, extended from the narrow crack of the entrance to the far wall. There was only one small square of dirt not covered by the bed, and that lay directly in front of the fire ring Fenris had built into the wall. It wasn’t much, but it would be big enough for a cradle.

  Of course! The image of a cradle, hand-carved from purple oak, small but sturdy, flashed through my mind. That little cradle had held me, as well as each of my two brothers. Now it was tucked under an eve in the hayloft above my family’s barn, covered with dust and cobwebs.

  “Ma has a cradle,” I said. “I haven’t seen it in years, but I’m sure she still has it.”

  Fenris’s face contorted like a wild animal about to flee, then stiffened as he brought it back under control. “Live with your family? Are you sure that little house has room for us?”

  I rocked back in the mattress. I hadn’t meant to suggest moving in with Ma; I thought the small cradle would come with us to the cave, and rest wedged between the bed and the rock walls. But now, as I watched Fenris struggle to control the downward curve of his lips, I realized how impossible that would be. I wasn’t even certain the cradle would fit through the little entrance to our cave.

  For that matter, how would I fit through that tiny crack once my belly swelled with a baby?

  I stared at Fenris. It was odd to think of him as a child, but he had once been an infant, my handsome husband. And his childhood was so far removed from mine it might as well have taken place in another realm, or in a distant storybook. Somewhere, once upon a time, Fenris was a child in Angrboða’s castle. A prince. With a governess. And a tutor.

  Stars, how awful my family’s tiny cabin must appear to him! The horses of Angrboða’s castle probably had more room in their stables than my family had to offer us. I pulled my hand away from his and dropped my gaze to the furs piled in my lap.

  “We wouldn’t have to live in the house,” I said. “There’s the barn ... ”

  My voice trailed off. It must have sounded horrible to Fenris, but the idea of returning to my family’s cabin made the tight band around my chest slip a little, allowing some warmth and light back into my heart.

  After all, the barn wouldn’t be so bad now that we had no dairy cow and pigs to shit all over the floor. It would be cold, but we could stuff the cracks between the boards with straw. We could even bring the furs, and the feather mattress. The little hayloft which now held the cradle might even be bigger than this cave.

  I looked up. Fenris’s eyes were dim and far away; the band around my heart clenched tighter again.

  “It’s not exactly a castle,” I whispered. “But the barn won’t be too bad, I think.”

  Fenris shook his head, then hid his face in his hands. When he looked up, silver tears traced a shimmering track down his cheeks. My stomach heaved. Seeing Fenris crying was like watching the stars fall out of the sky, or the trees uproot and float gently into the sky. If Fenris could cry, then absolutely anything could happen.

  “Sol...” His voice trembled. He took a deep breath, wiped his hand across his eyes, and began again. “I was miserable in the castle. When I finally reached the Ironwood, and I knew I’d actually escaped that prison, it was the happiest day in my life. Until—”

  He swallowed hard. His shoulders trembled, and fresh tears cut a path down his cheeks.

  “Until?” I pressed.

  “Until the first morning I woke up in this cave, and you were sleeping next to me.” The words tumbled out in a rush. He reached for my hand, but hesitated before touching me. “You’re not a whore, Sol. You’re my wife. I love you. And if we’re going to have a baby, well, that’s the way it is.”

  “But you were so unhappy!” I blurted.

  His teeth closed around his lower lip. “I never thought I’d go back. I told myself I’d spend the rest of my life out here, living like an animal.” He sighed, twisting his hands in his lap.

  “I’m not asking to go back to Angrboða’s castle,” I said. “We can stay right here, if that’s what you’d like.”

  He met my eyes for just a heartbeat, and the tiniest hint of a smile flickered across his lips. “You really think this is any place for a baby?”

  It wasn’t, and I knew it. Fenris had recognized it even before I had.

  He rubbed the palm of his hand against his chest and sighed. “I was an idiot, I guess. Of course I know how babies are made.”

  I winced at that. If he noticed, Fenris didn’t react.

  “I just ... I thought we’d have more time,” he finished.

  “I’m sorry. It wasn’t my choice.”

  My voice cracked at that. For a moment it occurred to me how ridiculous we both must look, sitting on opposite sides of the vast feather mattress, tears streaming down our faces as we tried to look at anything other than each other.

  Fenris’s shoulders slumped. “I’m not doing this very well,” he said.

  Silence stretched between us, filling the tiny cave to the brim. Fenris coughed, straightened his shoulders, and fell silent again. He ran his fingers through his auburn hair, pulling it back from his shoulder. I wondered how that shoulder would look with a baby nestled against it, resting in the hollow of his neck, and the thought made my chest ache so fiercely it was almost hard to breathe.

  “I never expected to fall in love,” he said, speaking slowly. It sounded like those words hurt, like they were dragged out of some dark place in his mind. “Because who would love me? I drank too much. I was always fucking things up, disappointing people. Even before I learned how to turn into the wolf, I was a monster.”

  “You were a prince,” I said, almost to myself.

  “Yes,” Fenris sighed. “That’s another part of it. Any woman who married me would have been one of Angrboða’s plans, you see? My wife wouldn’t have loved me. She would have been forced to marry me to secure some alliance or to buy off some threat.” His laugh was sharp and bitter. “Shit, she probably would have ended up hating me.”

  He rocked forward on the bed, burying his face in his hands, and then turned to stare at the roof of the cave as if the right thing to say was etched in the soot above us. “When things fell apart in the castle,” Fenris continued, “I told myself I didn’t want a lover. Or a wife. That I was better off alone.”

  “I understand,” I said, although I wasn’t sure that was the truth.

  “When I left Angrboða’s castle, I ran. I ran like a hunted animal. Then I reached the Ironwood, and I hid. For years. I came out only at night, hunting in the darkness. I changed out of my wolf form when I needed to sleep. And only when I was hidden.”

  “That must have been ... lonely,” I ventured.

  He shrugged. “I don’t know. It was, I suppose. But it was libe
rating, too. I never did very well in the castle. There were always so many things I did wrong without even knowing. I’ve never been very good with people.”

  He sighed and wiped his cheeks again. “When Týr showed up, he brought bread and mead and said Óðinn wanted to know about the biggest monster in the Ironwood. And then he came back, month after month, and I said, ‘This is good. I have my freedom, and I have a friend. This is all I need.”

  Fenris smiled at me. It was a small smile, but it made my heart sing all the same.

  “But you ... When I met you, Sol, it was like the first time I realized I could transform my shape and become the wolf. Like the entire world opened up for me, and suddenly I knew I hadn’t been living any sort of life at all. Because I’d been missing you.”

  I tried to say something, but my tears choked me.

  “I guess,” he continued, “what I’m trying to say is, if we leave the Ironwood to have our baby, it’s going to be fine. Wherever we go. Because I’ll be with you.”

  I couldn’t stop myself; I jumped into his arms, throwing him back against the bed. But Fenris flinched as I pressed my lips against his.

  “We don’t have to ... to fuck anymore.” He pushed me gently off his chest. “If you don’t want to.”

  I laughed as the noose of fear and pain around my chest began to dissipate. Fenris frowned. I ran my fingers down the ridges of his chest, stopping just before the tangle of hair between his legs. His magnificent cock wasn’t hard, not yet, but it surged in response to my touch. I traced the skin on his thighs, feeling his muscles tense beneath my fingertips.

  “No one’s ever said anything that kind to me before,” I whispered.

  Fenris turned away from me. I followed him, wrapping my arm around his waist. His body tensed. I kissed him softly on the delicate skin just beneath his ear. He tasted good under my lips, salty and warm.

  “I don’t want to live in a castle,” I whispered. “I don’t even want to leave this cave. I’m happy here, husband. Happier than I ever thought possible.”

  I dropped my hands to rub the thick muscles of his upper legs, and Fenris’s breath caught in his throat.