Freeing Fenrir

Chapter 1

The night that our fates entangled, I was meant to die. The reaching nails were supposed to latch into my flesh, tear me to pieces, and return me to dust. I was not destined to survive. I was not destined to have a future. And I certainly was not destined to cross paths with the most destructive force in the universe.

It goes to show that nothing is set in stone. We are made to believe that our fates are static. Once they are determined, there is no force in the universe that can change their course. The reality is that every one of us has the power to rewrite our own chapters.

Several moons ago, if someone tried to tell me that I'd be put in the position to determine the future of the nine worlds, I would have quirked an eyebrow with a comical grin as if to say, "Who, me? You must be kidding." I would have been even more amused to hear that I would one day consider destroying the universe. I guess life doesn't always play out the way we expect.

But this story isn't mine. Not really, anyway. I was just an ordinary girl who happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time, and as a result, I was thrown into the world of Gods and Giants.

This is the story of the war between all species. Of the betrayal that terminated the relationship between mother and son. Of a broken soul whose hatred has been misunderstood for centuries.

This is the story of Fenrir.

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"I have an important question for you. I must emphasize that your honesty is imperative... hey! I can see you rolling your eyes and I'm serious!"

Alertness crashes into me at the sound of the harsh whisper, alarm bells whirring in my mind at the realization that there is an unfamiliar male presence in my room. My breathing hitches and I find myself unable to even it out as a creeping sense of unease constricts my airway. I keep my eyes glued tightly shut.

When they think we are asleep, they don't hurt us. Harassing the prisoners is no fun when they are too dazed to put up a fight. This is a lesson I learned only a few weeks into my capture. Struggling makes the game more exhilarating. Submission is the key to survival.

There's a steady pause. My wrists tingle with a nagging itch and it takes every ounce of willpower to remain still- to refrain from scratching at the irritated spot. The heavy stare of the speaker weighs upon me and I know that he is waiting for me to slip up. Light snores spill from my mouth instinctively as I pray that he leaves me alone.

Finally, there is a response. The second voice echoes back in a thundering boom, just mere inches away from the solid mattress I lay on. Visible trembles spasm through my body.

"You imbecile of a God, look what you've done! The girl nearly woke up because of your carelessness. What you have to say better be the difference between life and death, or I swear I'll knock all the teeth right out of your blabbering mouth."

"My, my Tyr. You're always so quick to turn to violence. You best calm that raging temper of yours before you unleash it upon someone who will put you in your place," The man who first spoke taunts the other. "I just wanted to ask... does my hair look gorgeous? The locks are just as luscious as always, right?"

The one called Tyr groans. "Are you a Lady or a Lord?" He quips with a sharp tongue, rousing an offended gasp from the first man. "I swear that your obsession with beauty is turning you into more of a woman with every passing second. You look fine, for Gods' sakes!"

There is another tortuously long pause.

I count each agonizing second in my head as it passes, every muscle in my body tense as I wait expectantly for at least one of the two men to pounce on me, jeering and spitting in my face while hands roam wherever they please. The moment never comes.