Promised to Wolves

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Her fur rubbed softly against my mind as I felt her curling up and settling there with a heavy calmness that reflected my mood. Gone was all trace of her feral temperament. Instead, my wolf was happy and excited like a newborn pup, ready to explore the world again. I only wished she had not taken so long to make her presence known to me.

"Artemis, you need to eat," his soft voice murmured as he approached me like one would approach a wounded animal. "You have been lying there all evening, ever since -" He set down the tray of food beside the bed and I felt the mattress dip as he sat down beside me. "You need to eat."

"I can still taste him in my mouth." My words were softly spoken, but he caught every single letter, wrapping his arms around me and pulling me close to his chest.

"I know, Artemis. I know how hard it is when your wolf takes control and does things you never wanted to do. But you have to push through this." His hand softly tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. "No one blames you for what happened. And there was no harm done. That man is still alive and will be attending his execution."

"But I can still taste his blood in my mouth." I fought the urge to vomit, knowing I had already emptied the contents of my stomach a few hours ago.

His hands were lifting my eyes to meet his before I could blink and he leaned down to lightly brush his lips against my own, sending a flurry of emotions through my quivering form. "Talk to me," he lightly whispered. "I am here for you."

My eyes fluttered down to stare at the bedclothes I was tightly gripping with my fingers. "I don't know how to."

"You do know how to," he responded as he moved forwards and pressed his forehead against mine, the comfort from his warmth seeping into me. "Remember when you told me about Marcella, well this is the same thing. Just tell me the first thoughts that come to mind."

I nibbled on my lip as I pulled the blanket covering the bed over our laps. "I was angry," I started, nervous that he would judge me. But he only squeezed my hand gently to show his support.

"Go on."

"I was angry at myself for failing to protect Marcella. I was angry that her death was so sudden there was nothing I could have done to save her. I was angry that she was not the first person I failed to protect."

"Who are you talking about?" he interrupted, probing for answers.

I took a deep breath and blinked back the moisture in my eyes. "My mother died in front of me at a festival in Santorini."

He inhaled softly and squeezed my hand again.

"The Lamia Queen's brother attempted to assassinate her and take the throne. But my mother saw the arrow and pushed the Queen out of the way during her procession through the streets. The arrow pierced her heart and-" I broke off as my fingers subconsciously traced the scar on my face. "She died almost instantly."

 "You loved her," he stated and I nodded slowly.

"Our parents are the most precious things in the world. Losing them is losing your whole reason for living. You lose the people you strive to make proud of you and the people you know will stand by you no matter what."

He smiled softly. "That is what a parent is, someone who tries to make you the best version of yourself no matter what it costs. Even if it means a mother distancing herself from her son or a father forcing his son to learn from and follow him. I may not have the most conventional relationship with my parents but I do not know what I would do if I lost them."

My eyes drifted across the room and were drawn to the warm glow of the fireplace at the opposite side of his chambers. Standing up, I gently tugged his hand and he followed me, my bare feet relaxing in the soft fur rugs that covered his floors.