Someone put a coat on me before I went after Trevor, but I don't remember who. I was reeling from the loss of my husband and of my dignity. My other lovers and my lions had witnessed my shame, and it felt as if every time they looked at me, they condemned me for it. Deep down, I knew it wasn't true; I was responding to the poisonous feelings Katila had shoved inside me using Trevor's body. It was my own revulsion that I saw in their eyes; my own condemnation.
That didn't make it any better.
I didn't stop moving; I traced to Moonshine, my house in Hawaii, and finally, Fenrir's island. All in a coat and nothing else. I must have looked insane. In fact, I know I did. Fenrir said as much when I burst into his bedroom; calling for Trevor. My other lovers were struggling to keep up with my tracing; using my ring to follow me, no doubt. But I was fast with fright, and I kept ahead of them. Which meant that I was alone when I barged in on the Great Wolf; no one with me to explain my frantic state.
“What happened to my son, Vervain?” Fenrir roared.
I had a feeling that he'd been asking me this for awhile; most likely since I'd first stormed into his bedroom. I'd gone through room after room in the Froekn hall systematically—a method to my madness—entering Fenrir's bedroom near the end. I'd startled him and Emma from sleep, and I was lucky Fenrir hadn't attacked me before he recognized me. But I had only stayed a few minutes; just long enough to be sure that Trevor wasn't there. Then I moved on to the next room. I searched under beds, in closets, and behind curtains. It would have been hilarious if I wasn't so scared.
“Vervain!” Fenrir grabbed me by my arms and shook me. “What happened to Trevor?”
I took one look into Fenrir's eyes—so much like Trevor's—and fell apart. I crumpled into his arms and started sobbing; brokenly telling him that I had betrayed his son, and Trevor had left me for it.
“What did you say?” Fenrir asked as his eyes filled with fury.
I kept seeing Trevor in Fenrir and that self-destructive part of me wanted him to hurt me again. Maybe it wasn't self-destructive; maybe there was some sense to it. Physical pain was so much better than emotional. I could deal with physical pain; gods know I've had enough of it that it should feel like pleasure by now. It was the heart that healed the poorest; the slowest. Cuts there could take years to heal, and even then, they might remain vulnerable to the slightest hit. So, please; hurt my body instead. If I bled enough, maybe it would wash away this guilt.
“Vervain would never betray Trevor,” Emma said reasonably as she grabbed her husband's thick bicep. “Look at her, Fen; something has affected her mind.”
Fenrir frowned in confusion as he sniffed at me. “I smell Trevor on her.”
“Trevor,” I moaned and started to cry again. “I hurt him, Fenrir!” I rose up suddenly and grabbed his shoulders. “He shifted into a wolf and ran from me. Don't you want revenge?” I shook him. “Come on! Fight me, Wolf God! Where are those famous claws? Those teeth? Avenge your son!”
“Little Frami,” Fenrir's eyes filled with tears. “What's happened to you?”
“The demon-killer possessed Trevor,” Odin said as he rushed into the room. “He used Trevor's body to...” Odin couldn't even say it; he let the sentence loom there unfinished.
“No,” Emma whispered in horror.
Emma had been abused for months by Demeter; forced to have sex with numerous men for Demeter's entertainment. She was familiar with this self-disgust and impotent anger; with the burning it sets in your belly and the screams it holds just above that fire. A hand fluttered to her mouth as her eyes went wide and filled with tears.
Fenrir's hands tightened on my biceps as he shifted his stare to Odin and then back to me. Processing all the details. Then it clicked. All I'd been saying made sense to him. I saw it in his eyes; in the tension strumming through his shoulders. He knew that I hadn't been a true mate to his son. If I had been, I would have known that it wasn't Trevor touching me. Mates knew each other's souls.
“Make it stop,” I whispered to him. “Please; tear me open and take this pain away. Take his soul and give it back to him. I don't deserve it anymore.”
But Fenrir didn't tear me open, he didn't take back Trevor's soul, and he didn't condemn me. Fenrir howled as he yanked me forward, clutched me to his chest, and rocked me. He kept howling as I sobbed; his embrace tight and unyielding. It was what I needed; strong arms and the scent of wolf to snap me out of madness. I'd been here before; stared down into that endless gulch and listened to the beckoning screams rising from it. I knew exactly where I stood and how close I'd come to falling over the edge again. The knowledge made it easier to take a step back. Slowly. One foot after the other.
I took a shuddering breath at last and went limp. Only then did Fenrir stop howling. Only then did he loosen his terrible grip. He lowered his head to mine and kissed my forehead as he continued to rock me. Gentle swaying; hypnotically soothing. Fenrir had been the Wolf God long enough to know how to calm the savage beast.
“Little Frami,” Fenrir whispered; his voice gone hoarse with howling. “I could never hurt you. Please don't ever ask me that again.”
