Hello, my lovely readers.

I know y'all have been waiting for this one for a long-ass time, so I'll keep it short!

ONE: You can read this whilst reading Marcus' Prey. They don't interfere with each other. This is a novella, book 1.5 if you will. You don't have to read it, it's purely to tell Fenrir's story. 

I think you should read it, personally.

But anyway! I hope you like it. I'm certainly enjoying it. Y'all know I have a soft spot for our boi Fenny.

Enjoy!

E <3

~~~

Screw the men of this Earth. Send them all straight to the fiery pits of hell and damnation.

"Sweetheart-" the overpaid sack of shit this town called a policeman continued, "-She's been gone for months. Hate to say this, but she ain't comin' home in a piece."

Annoyance. Pity. Condescension.

I could feel every one of them, radiating out from Officer Idiot. It only served to piss me off more.

I took a deep breath in to calm myself. It didn't work. In fact, breathing in his scent of stale coffee and futile breath mints only added to my feelings of utter and complete disgust.

"Officer Hatch, as I've already told you, she wasn't reachable for the past few months. Of course you couldn't find her. But she's back now, I can feel it." I clenched my hands, which were resting on the table, into fists. "Ammi is close. You need to send your officers out again!"

He just snorted, "All due respect, Sweetheart," if he called me that one more damn time- "How would you know Amirykal was 'back' from the mysterious place you won't tell me about?"

As if I would tell him. As if his tiny little walnut brain could possibly comprehend it if I told him.

I unclenched my hands, "It's a mother's instinct, Officer."

Leaning back, he drawled, "But you ain't even her real momma."

My heart stuttered and stopped in my chest, before pure hatred filled my veins, making my hackles rise and evil words form unbidden on my tongue. I had to clench my jaw nigh on painfully to hold them back.

It was only through sheer force of will that I didn't strangle him with my scarf. I did have friends at the hospital. If I hurt him bad enough, they'd finish the job and help me cover it up.

But no, he wasn't worth it. This was my favorite scarf.

And, as much as I hated to admit it, killing this idiot solved nothing. If the police wouldn't help me, I'd just have to find my daughter myself. A woman scorned might be a powerful force, but a concerned mother far surpassed even that.

"Thank you for being supremely useless, Officer. I'll find my daughter myself, and I won't get paid for it." I stood up abruptly, gathering my purse in a fit of rage.

He, too, stood up, running a hand through his short hair.

"Aw, Karin, don't be like that Sw-"

I whirled, jabbing a finger under his nose.

"Call me Sweetheart again and you'll be talking out your ear."

He held his hands up in surrender, backing away. A wise decision. I felt like I could spit fire. When I was satisfied that he'd gotten the message, I turned and marched out of the station in a huff of righteous anger.

What a way to celebrate my forty-first birthday.

It couldn't be helped. I had to find my daughter, if it killed me. She was the little girl I held at night when she cried, the young woman I'd gotten into screaming matches with when she acted without using that stubborn head of hers. She was the baby girl I'd found on my porch when I was twenty-two, and, like the soft-hearted idiot I'd been, decided to keep her. The infant I'd cared for single-handedly for three years before Sean O'Malley, the love of my life, had proposed to me after graduating with our undergraduate degrees.

She was the daughter that I'd unintentionally neglected for what I now realized were my own selfish reasons. Reasons I wished I could erase. Memories that I would bury so deep that the light of day would never touch again. But I couldn't take back that night twelve years ago any more than I could summon my daughter to me with a spoken word.

I'd thought that by pulling away, the blackness, the impurity that was forcefully embedded in my raggedly beating heart wouldn't be allowed to touch her. That if I hid from her and the world, I wouldn't take them down with me when I sank.

At first, Sean had been there, forcing me to see the light, not allowing me to simply sink as I so desperately wanted to. And then, he too was taken away. By the same man that dared to touch my daughter.

I'd left the love of my life that day, dead on the ground. I'd fled not out of fear for my own worthless life, but for the safety of my daughter. We'd run so far that we'd ended up in this little hick town, where we could focus on healing ourselves.

But they'd taken her. And I'd forge a path through far more than brimstone to find my baby.

On the short walk home, with my boots crunching in the snow, I reached out again, and my heart lept into my throat when, for a moment, I couldn't feel it. And then, sure enough, I felt it. Felt her. Her spirit sang for me, and I felt tears well in the corners of my eyes.

For months I hadn't felt her. I was so terrified, and eventually resigned myself to the fact that my daughter was dead. I wasn't sure I could ever be whole again. Without Sean, without Ammi...what was I even worth? I was nothing.

But now my daughter was back. I was someone again. I had no choice but to be.

Hustling into the house I'd lived in for the past year, I unwrapped my scarf, shivering slightly at the cool breeze that had followed me in.

"Colder than it has any damned right to be," I muttered, stamping the snow off my boots, so as not to track it in.

"It's barely even chilly out, woman."

I whirled around, my heart rapping dangerously fast against my sternum at the deep, throaty, distinctly male voice. The owner of said voice leaned casually up against the wall-no, my wall-his gigantic frame sucking all the air from the room, and far too close for comfort. I was about to grab the nearest weapon-like object and demand he leave my house, because lord knows I couldn't rely on the law enforcement in this town.

Then, I felt him. His presence. And I was enraged.

"You." I hissed, narrowing my eyes in fury.

He stepped closer, his size only emphasized by his proximity. Golden-yellow eyes flashed from behind heavy, dark brows. His long, wavy hair was pulled into what my Ammi would've called a "man bun", which suited his rugged face and thick beard. But his appealing packaging wouldn't sway me.

"What do you mean, 'you'? We've not met, kvinne."

Did I catch a flash of fang when he spoke? It wouldn't surprise me, since he was the worst scum of the Earth. If I didn't need him for information, I'd grab a knife from my kitchen and start severing some arteries. I knew where the important ones were, after all.

"You know what I'm talking about, whoever, no, whatever you are!" I snapped, pacing backward despite my bravado. I was all too conscious of the disadvantage I was at. My mind was frantically working, analyzing the ways he could use his strength against me. I was a good foot shorter than him on my best day, and he was made of solid muscle. Most of my workouts consisted of running around, caring for patients. While not insignificant, it rather seemed this thing lifted mountains as a warm-up. I could lay across his shoulders comfortably, and even his pectorals had an inch on me. I wouldn't be winning any arm-wrestling matches with him. And, unlike my daughter, I'd not been trained to fight.

He cocked his head at my words, reminding me eerily of an animal, a predator. My heart began to beat to the tempo of a rabbit, imitating the prey he now made me sympathize with.

"You're perceptive, aren't you." It wasn't a question. Those off-putting eyes of his narrowed in thought as he regarded me. "Mirakel didn't tell me you were an empath."

My eyes widened. Empath? But no, that wasn't important.

"Meerakell? You mean my Ammi?" I demanded, forgetting my fears in my need to know more. "You know where my daughter is? Tell. Me."

He looked almost regretful, but only for a moment before he turned back to stone.

"I will not reveal such information, kvinne. She is safe. That is all you need to know."

Fury.

"That is my fucking daughter, you piece of shit!" I demanded, "You have no right to keep her from me!"
Now he looked almost impressed. "I, unfortunately, must inform you that I do have the right. I'm Mira...Amirykal's father."

Last week, a man by the name of Elias Bellson came into the ER with a shallow bullet wound just below his armpit. It had passed right through him, and the average person would've thought that he'd make it. But it'd torn its way through the cavity of his chest, nicking an artery before it left. We did what we could to stop the bleeding, but to be honest, it was a small miracle that he'd even survived the ambulance ride. He wasn't a DOA, but he'd cut it close. I remembered his blond hair, coated in the deep coppery red of dried blood, the look of pure animal panic in his eyes as he gasped for breath like a fish, the internal bleeding putting pressure on his lungs.

I was suddenly able to sympathize with him, because though this mystery man's words weren't instantly lethal, I suddenly couldn't breathe, and death certainly felt imminent.

"No..." I whispered, my voice cracking even on that small syllable. "No, you can't be. My Ammi is human. She's good. You are neither."

The man flinched, then snarled back twice as furiously, "I am not human like you, and yes, I am no good male. But Ammi is my daughter."

I didn't want to see the similarities. The jaw, the nose, the stubborn set of the chin. But they were there whether I wanted to see them or not.

"I am her mother, I need to know-"

A lethal growl built in his throat, his eyes flashing. "Fy faen! It's for your own good, kvinne. You do not understand what you are tangled up in, what our Mira is tangled up in."

"Then tell me," I demanded, "before I have to find out myself."

"Det er bare dritt. When my pup asked me to look after you, I forgot that she must've learned something from you. Just my luck it was her hard-headedness."

I scowled, "Oh, and she took none of it from you, did she?"

Was that an almost-smile? It disappeared before I could be sure. I probably imagined it.

"Listen, kvinne, my pup wanted me to keep an eye on you until all the...until the situation is no longer a threat. So, you and I will simply have to deal with one another until then."

He sounded about as happy about that as I did. Good. If I had to suffer, I'd be damn sure he did too.

Oh, Jesus, I was sounding like a petty teenager.

Be an adult, Karin.

"I suppose I have no say in this?" I asked, crossing my arms.

His stony face said all I needed to know.

I sighed, my shoulders slumping. I couldn't get him to go, and to be honest, I didn't want him to. Sure, he was absolutely infuriating, but he seemed to know things about my daughter that I would extract from him, whether he wanted it or not. So, though I wanted desperately to send him packing, I couldn't. I needed him. And he certainly didn't seem to be going anywhere.

"Fine!" I threw my arms up into the air as I admitted a temporary defeat. "I can't make you go, and the police here sure as shit can't. So, might as well make yourself at home." I forced my next statement from reluctant lips, "Would you like coffee...?"

"Fenrir. It's a...pleasure to meet you, Karin O'Malley."

Fenrir. I'd definitely heard that name before. Where, I wasn't sure, but I'd find out before tomorrow. In the meantime, I turned to the kitchen to make some coffee.

If I was going to survive this with my sanity and my manners intact, I'd need to make mine Irish.

~~~

DONE! 

First chapter of a book that has been on my mind for a long while. I'm so excited for this one, y'all!

What did you think?

Do you have any questions for me? Promise I won't bite...unless you want me to ;)

Anyway, I'll see you next time!

Epsilon :)