ABIGAIL

We were sitting over a dark pit, with ashes and charred bodies all around me.

I had finished off the rebel threat, that was certain.

The trees in the forest were still smoking and crackling, burning; the smell was dense, and the smoke made my eyes sting.

Worst of all was how I’d left Fenrir’s body.

The severe burns were only just starting to heal on his skin; it had to hurt so much, despite his regeneration.

“You… did you hold me during the crisis?” My voice broke as the truth sank in. “Fenrir, you could have died…”

“Then I would have died with you, Abigail, because I have never felt as desperate as when I felt I was losing you,” his voice came out hoarse and tight, through clenched teeth.

I didn’t know if he was furious, worried, desperate, or a mix of it all.

“Do you know the danger you exposed yourself to? If I hadn’t found you, you’d be dead!” he roared, and I could see the desperation in his pupils, a mix of red and blue.

“I didn’t know I was getting close to the rebel ca