𝒯.𝒲

Leon was beside you before your eyes had even opened. "Easy, baby.." he murmured, one hand finding your shoulder. "I've got you."

You only buried your face deeper into the pillow, whining. "It still hurts."

"I know."

"No.." Your voice cracked. "You don't."

He didn't answer, because you were right. He'd been shot, stabbed, beaten half to death more times than he cared to count, so he knew pain. But watching you curl tighter and tighter into yourself while there wasn't a thing he could do about it, that was something else entirely. He rubbed slow circles against your lower back.

"Little higher?" You shook your head. "Lower?"

"It all hurts.." Your words dissolved into another miserable groan as your stomach clenched again.

"Jesus.." Leon exhaled quietly. "I hate this."

A weak laugh escaped you. "I noticed."

"I mean it." His hand never stopped moving. "If somebody was doing this to you.." He stopped himself. "I'd know what to do."

After another few minutes, you whispered into the pillow "I just want to sleep."

"I know."

"I don't even care if it still hurts.." Another cramp hit. You squeezed your eyes shut so tightly tears escaped anyway. "I just.. I can't—"

Leon watched you for a long moment, thinking. "Can I ask you something?"

You made a tired little sound that could've meant yes.

"I read something once–"

"You read?" One if your eyea cracked open as he rolled his own. "Very funny. I'm serious, baby."

You waited.

"It said–" He rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly looking far more uncomfortable than he'd been while stitching gunshot wounds. "Sometimes orgasms help."

You blinked. "What?"

"With cramps."

"Who told you that?"

"I don't remember."

"You don't remember?"

"It was a long time ago." Another pause. "I think it was Claire..?"

"Didn't you say you read about it?" That actually made you snort before immediately regretting it as another cramp twisted through you. "Ow.."

Leon frowned. "I'm not saying we should! I'm saying..." He sighed, searching for words that didn't sound insane. "I've watched you hurt for almost twelve hours and we've tried everything else."

You stared at him. Despite everything you laughed only a little. His shoulders relaxed the tiniest bit.

"There's my girl.. I missed that."

Your smile faded as another wave of pain settled low in your stomach. "I don't know if it'll even work.."

"Neither do I. And if you don't want to.." He gave your hand a gentle squeeze. "We won't."

You looked down at your intertwined fingers.

For a little while, neither of you spoke. The apartment was quiet except for the rain tapping softly against the windows and the occasional hum of traffic somewhere far below. Another cramp came without warning. You sucked in a sharp breath, your fingers tightening painfully around his.

"I feel ridiculous."

"You aren't, baby." His brows pulled together while you shrugged weakly.

Your eyes stung all over again. "I'm sorry.."

"What for?"

"For ruining the whole weekend.."

Leon let out a soft breath that almost sounded like a laugh. "You think this weekend mattered more than you?"

"I just..." You looked away, embarrassed. "I know it's gross."

His expression changed immediately. "What?"

"My period? I've got blood on the sheets, I've been crying all day, I probably smell awful and now we're sitting here talking about..." You gestured vaguely between the two of you. "Fucking."

He stared at you for a second as though he genuinely couldn't understand where your mind had gone.

"Honey. I've stitched my own leg closed with used fishing line, I've crawled through sewers, I've had zombie guts thrown on me. I don't think a little blood is going to gross me out."

A tiny laugh escaped you. "Okay.. Fine, let's uh— let's do it."

"You sure?"

You rolled your eyes, though there wasn't much strength behind it. "If I change my mind, I'll tell you."

"Okay.." Leon nods. "Come here."

You shifted closer, settling against him with a quiet sigh as he wrapped an arm around your waist. He kissed your forehead first, lingering there for a moment before brushing another kiss against your temple. "You tell me if anything hurts.." As his fingers slowly pull at the hem of your comically thick sweat pants. The towel underneath you gets shifted to accommodate his knees between your thighs as he pulls you down, down, your blood soaked panties long thrown on the floor.

In a few seconds he discards his undergarments as well, spreading your thighs for more room, before his pelvis dips down. His already hardened cock poked at the clenching entrance, as the suddenness of the situation gets you all flushed.

"I'm sorry if it hurts more.." Leon hums before letting the tip slip inside. With ease, he manages to push in inch by inch before he's completely burried in you.

"Good?"

You nod, eyes already teary. "Mhm.. y-yes, you can move.." Slowly and softly he holds your hips down as he starts to gently snap his hips, the wetness surrounding him making muffled squelching sounds.

"S-Shit.. it's like a slip'n slide.." He chuckles all breathy as his hips stutter a little.

"Leon!" A small whine escapes your lips, hitting his chest in a futile attempt to make him focus.

"Sorry, baby, sorry, I– fuck.." He cuts himself off with another moan when your walls contract around him.

After a few more pumps you were a moaning mess, the pain long off your mind as you urged Leon to go 'faster' 'harder' 'deeper', which, of course, he obliged.

"You're s'pretty.." He mumbles more to himself as his thumb runs through your slick folds, over your clit and around it.

"Leon– mnh, I'm close.."

"Yeah? You wanna come?"

Eagerly you nod. "Ye-yes.. please?"

Leon chuckles low in his chest as he shifts closer, his pace steady as his finger circled your puffy clit "Go on, you can come.."

"Th-thank you.." your eyes close as a small frown forms onto your face, the flush of your cheeks wilder by the minute.

"No need to thank me, baby.. You're doin' so good.."

Leon lifted your hips slightly, his palm pressing into the small of your back, and the position had been good before, but it was dangerously good now, the sort of angle that left you feeling like you’d just run a bloody (haha get it?) marathon. His fingers tripped over your clit, movements becoming clumsy.

"Oh, mnh, gosh— please don't stop.." You moaned again, higher this time.

He nodded jerkily and picked up the speed, not much, but god, it was enough, and you could feel the unbearable tension start peaking in your gut, and it was only a few more thrusts, only a few more passes of his fingers, before you were coming. You weren't alone either because Leon followed soon after. He slowed, his fingers pressing into your soft hips and his rhythm erratic as he fell apart. You watched the orgasm blossom across his face, the flush on the high points of his cheeks, the way he tipped his head fovard as his eyes fell closed before he stilled.

He took a second breath before, still inside you, he lowered himself down onto his forearms and kissed your bitten lips.

"You–" he said between kisses "Are gorgeous." You smiled up at him and reached up to brush the hair from his forehead.

"The pain still as bad?" Leon asks, still slightly panting. You lay there for a moment, taking inventory of your own body. The ache was still there, but distant, no longer the sharp, relentless thing that had held you hostage since morning.

"No.." Your voice sounded surprised.

Leon searched your face. "No?"

You shook your head, a sleepy smile finding its way onto your lips. "It still hurts a little.." You let out a slow breath. "But not like before."

The relief that crossed his face was comical. "Thank God."

You laughed softly. "I think you're more relieved than I am."

"I absolutely am." He brushed his thumb lazily over your cheek. "I was starting to think I'd have to fight your uterus."

"I'd have paid to see that." You reached for his hand beneath the blankets, threading your fingers through his. "Thank you."

Leon looked at you with that same impossibly soft expression that always made your very soul ache.

"You never have to thank me."

"I love you." A smile spread slowly across his face, warm enough to make the whole awful day feel distant.

"I love you." As he leaned down, pressing one last lingering kiss to your forehead before pulling you gently against his chest.

Every fairy tale teaches us that happiness comes after the dragon has been slain. They never speak of what happens when the dragon survives, nor do they mention the men who return with torches after the story has ended, eager to finish the work the monster had begun.

Peace is a fragile thing, it asks for very little of the world, only that the world leave it alone.

History has never been particularly kind to such requests. There are those who believe evil dies once it has been driven out, but fear is a curious creature, it rarely leaves with the monster.

More often, it stays behind. It gathers around dinner tables, beneath church roofs, sharpens axes in barns, until one morning it convinces otherwise decent men that cruelty is righteousness.

There is a peculiar sort of happiness that asks for no witness. It is not the kind sung about in great halls, the kind immortalized in painted glass, it has no desire to be remembered by history. It lives instead within ordinary things, that is why it is so easily overlooked.

You stood upon the little stool Leon had carved for you only a fortnight before, your fingertips carefully tying bundles of drying plants to one of the rafters overhead. "It is crooked." you declared, leaning back to inspect your work.

"It is."

You looked over your shoulder. "And you are not going to tell me?"

Leon rested another split log beside the chopping block before driving the axe cleanly through the next. The sound echoed between the trees. "You seemed pleased with it."

"I was."

"Then why should I interfere?"

A reluctant smile found your lips. "You encourage my bad habits."

"I encourage your happiness."

You shook your head, pretending to sigh as you climbed carefully back down from the stool. "You always know how to answer."

"I have had many years to practice."

"Not with me."

"No." A softer smile touched him then. "Not with you."

You crossed the clearing with slow steps, brushing stray leaves from your skirts. The hem caught against the grass, still damp from the morning dew. "You make it difficult to scold you."

"I know."

"And— You enjoy that."

"I do."

You reached him at last, brushing a speck of sawdust from his bare chest. "There."

He glanced down. "I am much improved."

"I should hope so."

His hand found the small of your back without thought, drawing you just a little closer. It had become second nature now.

The breeze wandered lazily through the clearing as Leon leaned down to kiss your lips softly. Somewhere beyond the trees, a squirrel scolded no one in particular.

You laughed quietly. "I think he disapproves of us."

"He disapproves of everyone."

"Even you?"

"Especially me."

"You have offended a squirrel?"

"I suspect.. I looked at him the wrong way this morning."

Your laughter answered. Leon watched you with that same fondness he had never quite learned to conceal. What a silly wolf.

"I shall not be long."

You smiled as Leon gathered your face between his hands, his thumbs brushing absentmindedly over your cheeks the way they always did before he ventured deeper into the forest.

"You always say that..."

"Because it has always been true." His forehead rested briefly against yours. "I shall return before the sun begins to sink."

"I know... Still, I will miss you."

He kissed you once, as no morning ought to begin without it. When he finally drew away, he hesitated. "What is it?" you asked.

"Nothing." There was the faintest crease between his brows, gone almost as soon as it appeared. You reached up, smoothing it away with your thumb.

"You worry too much."

"I have spent many centuries learning that worry often keeps one alive."

"But you found me."

Something softened in his expression.

"I did."

He kissed your forehead once more before stepping back.

"I shall return soon, my sweet girl."

For another moment he simply looked at you then he disappeared between the trees until the pale gold of his hair had vanished beneath the endless green.

The day slipped into afternoon. You had grown to love that hour most for it belonged to no one.

The little cabin felt no emptier in his absence.

It still had him everywhere, his cloak hung beside the door, his sharp axe rested against the chopping block, one of his shirts laid folded neatly upon the table where you had mended the sleeve only yesterday. You smiled to yourself because he would tear it again, you know.

Outside, the breeze stirred gently through the pines. You gathered your basket, humming a little melody as you wandered no farther than you ever had before. Wild thyme grew just beyond the clearing, and mushrooms beside the brook where the ground stayed damp even through the warmest days. You crouched amongst the flowers, cutting only what you needed, telling quiet apologies to the stems you left behind.

"You will grow back.." you promised them.

The basket slowly filled. You brushed the dirt from your palms as you stood.

The world was still, not unnaturally so. Simply.. still. You tilted your face toward the canopy. "I suppose you've all found somewhere prettier to sing." The birds had done that before so you thought nothing of it.

Turning back toward home, you had taken three steps before something caught hard around your ankle. Your balance vanished and the basket flew from your hand. Everything scattered across the ground. For one bewildered second you thought you had stumbled over a root. Then someone seized the back of your dress and he fabric bit painfully into your throat as you were wrenched backward. The rough rocks struck your knees first then your hands as stone tore through your palms.

You gasped, twisting instinctively, but another force slammed into your shoulder, sending you flat against the forest floor before you had even understood what was happening.

Your mouth opened soundlessly. A boot pressed between your shoulders, pinning you where you lay. "Hold her!"

The voice sounded human. Another pair of hands caught your wrists roughly

"No—" The word dissolved as your cheek scraped against the earth, dirt filled your mouth, someone pulled your arms behind your back ans pain shot through your body.

You kicked wildly, striking nothing but air before your heel connected with someone's shin. A curse rang through the trees.

The weight on your back doubled. "Keep her still!"

Your heart beat so violently you thought it might burst.

You could not see them, only boots and mud and the hem of dark robes. A wooden cross swinging wildly from a man's neck.

You tried again to scream. "Leon!" The name tore itself from your throat.

No answer came only another rough hand catching a fistful of your hair pulling your head backward until tears sprang instantly to your eyes.

"There she is." someone breathed. "The witch.."

"No—" you choked. "Please.!"

"Poor child." The voice was almost gentle but it made your blood run cold. "You needn't fear anymore." A length of coarse rope bit into your wrists. "You've been under the beast's spell long enough."

You stared at him. Spell? Your thoughts would not gather, nothing made sense. You looked desperately toward the clearing.

Someone stooped to retrieve the overturned basket. He looked at its contents with disgust before emptying it onto the ground, then the basket was crushed beneath his boot.

"Take her."

The forest did not protest. It had watched kingdoms rise and crumble. Men had come with axes, with fire, with prayers upon their lips and blood upon their hands and it had outlived every one of them.

Yet for the first time in many years, something precious had been torn from its heart. The little basket lay where it had fallen, one ribbon loosened from your hair in the struggle had caught upon a low branch, the cabin door stood open as the pie cooling on the table remained untouched. Nothing inside the little home knew its mistress would not be returning.

Leon came back not long before dusk, a young stag slung effortlessly across his shoulders. He smiled to himself as he crossed the clearing, already imagining the little frown that would appear between your brows when you saw the state of his boots.

"You will scold me again.." he said beneath his breath. "And then pretend you were never upset at all."

His eyes drifted past the broken basket almost absently at first, still searching for the pale blue of your skirts between the trees. Perhaps you had wandered farther than usual. Or maybe you had heard him returning and decided, for reasons known only to yourself, to tease him with another little game of hide and seek.

"You have become terribly bold!" he called with a smile that had already begun to fade. "Come now, my sweet. I know you are somewhere close.."

Only when he stooped to right the basket did he notice how badly it had been crushed. One side had splintered completely, the wicker stained dark. His fingers lingered there before his gaze followed the disturbed ground a little farther on.

There was blood, enough to soak into the moss and gather in the grooves between the roots, where the forest floor had drunk greedily from it. Branches had been snapped at shoulder height and the ferns were flattened. Something had struggled here. Someone.

His hand closed around the little ribbon caught amongst the broken wicker. "No.."

His eyes darted wildly across the clearing as though you might step from behind one of the trees at any moment, laughing at the poor jest you had carried too far. "My sweet?"

He took another few hurried steps, following the churned earth until the trail simply ended beneath a dozen overlapping footprints.

"No!" This time it sounded strained. "Enough! You have frightened me enough!"

Leon dropped to one knee, pressing his palm into the blood soaked dirt. His nostrils flared sharply. He could smell your fear, he could smell the salt of your tears, he could smell where they had laid their hands upon you.

The growl that escaped him was unlike anything human. It rolled deep through his chest, low enough to make the branches overhead tremble as birds burst from the canopy all at once.

"No!" His fingers tightened around the ribbon until the silk tore between his claws. "I left you.. I left you alone." Another breath drew through his nose, shuddering as your scent tangled with blood, smoke, and the stink of strange men. "They touched you.."

His shoulders lurched violently. Bone shifted beneath skin with a sickening crack. He bent forward, one hand digging deeply into the earth that roots splintered beneath his claws. "Laid their filthy hands upon you!"

His spine arched unnaturally, muscles twisting beneath his flesh as though something immense struggled to free itself from the prison of a human shape. "I should have buried that cursed village beneath these mountains when I first found you!"

His jaw snapped sharply to one side, then the other. A guttural groan tore from deep within "I— showed them mercy."

His words dissolved into a growl as his ribs widened with another grotesque series of cracks, his hands sinking deeper into the moss while claws lengthened against the stone. "And they answered it with this? The crows shall grow fat before my grief is spent!"

His breathing became ragged, faster, hungrier.

"They will beg their god to make the earth swallow them before I am through."

Bones split and reformed beneath taut skin, tendons strained. "And when I am finished, mothers will frighten their children with my name." His back rose higher and higher until the last remnants of the man who had kissed your forehead that morning disappeared beneath coarse fur.

"I shall teach them what beast they have stolen from." One final howl cut the evening, then the wolf ran.

By the time they hauled you into the village square, the last of the daylight had begun to dissipate across the rooftops. The church bell rang once, then again. Its heavy toll rolled over the village until doors began to open. People emerged slowly, clutching rosaries, little wooden crosses, prayer books worn soft with age. Mothers pulled their children close as fathers stood before them, shoulders squared as though preparing for war.

The preacher stood upon the old stone well at the centre of the square, his hands lifted toward the heavens. "Our prayers have been answered." A murmur rippled through the gathering. "The Lord has returned His lost lamb to us."

"Amen."

"Amen."

"Amen."

You struggled weakly against the ropes biting into your wrists. "I am not lost!"

The preacher's voice only grew louder. "For months we have mourned the loss of Father Aldren, the closest thing this village ever knew to a servant of God.." His eyes swept over the crowd before settling upon you. "And who slew him?"

"The beast!" several voices answered.

"Who desecrated the church?"

"The beast!"

"Who stole this poor child from her mother's embrace?"

"The beast! The abomination!"

You shook your head desperately. "No! No, that is not what happened!"

One of the men behind you struck the back of your knees and you fell hard upon the cobblestones. "The Devil does not enjoy being contradicted, you see."

Pain shot through your legs, but you forced yourself upright. "He never stole me!" you cried. "I went with him willingly!"

A horrified gasp swept through the square. The preacher closed his eyes. "You hear it.." His voice was almost mournful. "The corruption has rooted itself deep!"

"No!"

"He has poisoned her soul!"

"He is my husband!" The words tore themselves from your throat before fear could swallow them. "Do you hear me? I am his wife!"

A sharp crack echoed through the square as your head snapped sideways. The taste of blood bloomed across your tongue.

A woman hurriedly covered her little daughter's ears. Another crossed herself. "The Devil speaks through her.." someone whispered.

"No..." Tears spilled freely down your bruised face. "Please— Please listen.."

The preacher stepped down from the well until he stood only a few paces away. He stepped down from the well until only a few paces separated the two of you. He looked upon your bruised face before turning sharply back toward the crowd.

"Look at her!" His voice rang across the square. "And look well!"

People leaned forward, children peeked from behind their fathers.

"This..." He pointed at you as though you were no more than an animal dragged in from the hunt. "This is what becomes of those who forsake the Lord!" A chorus of amens answered him.

"To hell with the beast!"

"No!" You lurched against the ropes, nearly losing your footing. "He never forced me!" A fist crashed into your stomach and air fled your lungs. You doubled over with a broken gasp. "He is my husband—" you managed between breaths. "I chose him.."

The preacher threw both hands into the air. "You hear it!" His face twisted with righteous fury. "She speaks of the beast as though he were a man!"

"He is!" Another blow. Your lip split anew against your teeth. "I am his lo-lover, his wife!"

The square erupted. "She belongs on the pyre!"

The preacher smiled victorious. Your head snapped upward.

"Your mother waited. She waited for the daughter stolen from her."

The crowd murmured, women weeping.

"She begged God every night to send you home."

"I—I.."

"She died with your name upon her lips, yet you were not there to close her eyes. You were not there to bury her."

"No.. Stop it—"

"You were lying beside a monster while your own mother was laid beneath the earth!"

A cry tore itself from your throat, your sobs breaking against the empty square as the cold stones beneath your knees greedily drank your tears.

The preacher turned slowly toward the villagers.

"Do you see?" He spread his arms wide. "Even now the Devil clings to her!"

"I love hi-him!" you sobbed, barely able to breathe. "He loves me!"

A man spat at your feet. "Beast's whore!" As several others laughed.

The preacher raised his hand once more. "She threatens the souls of every child in this village."

As though summoned by the words, a little boy peered timidly from behind his mother's skirts and his eyes found yours. They were frightened but curious. You looked back at him through tears, your swollen lips trembling into the faintest, most broken smile you could manage.

The boy frowned. "Mama.."

"What is it?"

"Why is she crying..?"

The woman looked from her son to you. For the briefest instant, pity flickered across her face.

Then the preacher's voice boomed through the square. "Do not let your children look upon her!"

The woman gasped, yanking the little boy behind her so sharply he stumbled.

"Down!" she hissed. "Eyes down!"

"But Mama–"

"She'll poison your soul!" The little boy buried his face against his mother's skirts.

The preacher watched the exchange with quiet satisfaction. He turned slowly, addressing not you, but every soul gathered in the square. "The serpent has no fangs of its own." He pointed toward you. "It borrows ours."

His gaze swept over the frightened children. "It smiles. It weeps. It speaks with the gentle voice of a beautiful woman. And before you know it.." He spread his hands. "Your own child calls evil love."

"Amen."

"Amen."

The man descended the final step. His boots stopped an arm's length before you. You refused to lower your eyes and for that alone, he smiled.

"So much pride." His hand shot forward without warning. Fingers buried themselves in your hair, wrenching your head back so sharply a cry slid past your bloody teeth.

"There." He studied your face as though searching for something beneath your human skin. "Can you hear Him?"

Your breathing came ragged.

"L—et go."

"Pray!" The word rang loud and ugly. "Pray with me, child."

You glared up at him through tear stained lashes.

"Ask the Lord's forgiveness." His grip tightened. "Show Him there yet remains the smallest ember of holiness within your soul."

He leaned closer, his voice dropping low enough that only those nearest could hear. "I would spare you if I could. But first..." As he gave your hair another cruel tug. "The beast must loosen his grip upon your heart."

Around you, the villagers had already begun.

"Our Father, who art in Heaven..." One voice became five then five became twenty. Soon the entire square was praying. Louder, louder still.

The preacher looked down at you expectantly. "Pray."

But you said nothing.

"Pray." His jaw tightened. "I said—"

You drew in one slow breath then spat. Blood and saliva struck his cheek. The crimson slowly slid down his face. For a moment, he simply stared at you and you met his gaze without flinching.

"He— has shown me more grace with blood upon his hands." Your voice trembled, though not with fear. "You are a coward dressed as a holy man! If this is the face of God's servant.." you whispered, your eyes burning into his "Th-Then I should sooner kneel before the Devil."

The preacher wiped his cheek with the back of his hand, turning the bloodstained flesh toward the villagers as he began. "The beast has taught her well."

The preacher had only just opened his mouth to speak again when shouting erupted from the far end of the square.

"Father!"

The crowd parted instinctively as two watchmen came stumbling between them, breathless, one clutching his side where he'd clearly fallen in his haste.

"Father.." one gasped. "He's here."

"Who?"

"The Beast."

"I saw him!" the younger watchman cried. "By the treeline! He's watching us!"

The preacher slowly lifted one hand. At once, the panic quieted. "Do not loose your arrows."

The hunters stared at him. "But Father—"

"I said." His voice rang like thunder. "Do not loose your arrows."

"He'll slaughter us."

"Let him come." Several heads turned toward him in disbelief. "Today..." he continued "The Lord Himself shall judge between beast and man."

The wolf was here. The crowd slowly parted, leaving the road to the forest completely bare. Nobody breathed for nobody dared to.

Beyond the final row of cottages, where the pines swallowed the last of the evening light, something moved. Branches bowed aside before him like loyal followers.

Several villagers immediately fell to their knees.

"Oh merciful Father..." Another man crossed himself over and over, his lips moving in frantic prayer. "He is enormous.."

Leon stood at the edge of the trees carved from the mountain itself. His silver coat was soaked dark in places where branches and stone had torn through skin during his desperate pursuit, blood disappearing beneath thick fur. His chest rose and fell in heavy breaths, each one curling pale mist into the cooling air.

All of it ceased to exist when there you were, bruised, bound with blood upon your face.

"Leon.. Don't—"

His ears twitched as the only sign he had heard you at all.

"So." His voice carried through the silence. "The wolf comes to reclaim what he believes belongs to him?"

Leon did not answer. His lips peeled back just enough to reveal the gleam of impossibly long fangs, the expression of a starving wolf's might.

The preacher did not take his eyes off the wolf. A smile spread across his face. "Untie her."

Several hunters hesitated. "Father.."

"I said untie her." Just like that the ropes fell away from your wrists.

"Leon—!" Your legs gave beneath you and you stumbled across the square, scraping your knees against the stones.

"Leon.." He never took his eyes off the men surrounding you. Only when you reached him did his great head lower. You threw your arms around his neck, burying your face into the thick silver fur. "Oh, Leon.."

A soft, aching whine rumbled from somewhere deep within his chest. His tongue brushed the blood from your cheek. Your hands buried themselves in his coat.

"I'm here.." you whispered through tears. "I'm here." His enormous body shifted, placing itself between you and the village without thinking.

Behind you the preacher lowered one hand.

And so, the bowstring sang. Your scream never had the chance to leave your throat.

The arrow buried itself deep beneath Leon's shoulder with a sickening sound.

His howl split the evening and the mountains answered. Pain overtook him, then the instinct to shield. His enormous body lurched sideways despite the hurt, forcing itself between you and the village. One foreleg buckled beneath him, but he planted the other, lowering himself over you until all you could see was silver fur and blood.

Another arrow could not reach you, not while he still breathed.

"Leon!" you sobbed.

His breath shuddered, he barely seemed to hear. The muscles along his back trembled violently as he searched the crowd, ears flattened, lips peeled back over crimson teeth.

One more step, and another. He tried to drive them back but his legs gave. The blood was coming far too quickly so the great wolf staggered once before the magic began to unravel. Bone shifted beneath skin and the monstrous frame folded inward with awful cracks until Leon collapsed into your arms, his breathing ragged, blood soaking the front of his shirt.

"My fawn.." His voice was so small. You caught his face between bloody hands. "I am here."

His eyes found yours. "Do not cry.."

The preacher stepped forward, his voice ringing across the deathly silent square. "Behold!"

He pointed toward the bleeding man in your embrace. "The abomination that desecrated God's house!"

He looked down upon Leon with open contempt.

"Look well. This is the monster she chose over her own salvation."

You stared at the arrow slick with Leon's blood as the monster's words rang empty. "I'm sorry.." Leon's eyes widened ever so slightly because he knew. Before he could stop you, you wrenched the shaft free. Leon cried out as the arrow teared through meat and flesh.

The sound shattered whatever remained of you.

"I'm s-sorry.." you sniffled, your hands slick with his blood. "I'm so, so sorry.."

His fingers caught weakly at your wrist.

"My sweet fawn.."

You looked at him one last time then you stood. No one moved to stop you. Perhaps they thought you meant to surrender, perhaps they believed you too broken to do anything at all.

The preacher smiled. "There now.." he said, opening his arms as though welcoming you back into the fold. "The Lord's light has finally reached your heart. Come, child."

The bloodied arrow hung limp in your hand.

"You have suffered greatly.." he continued. "But He is merciful! Kneel before—"

His words vanished into a startled gasp as you drove the arrow into his throat.

His eyes searched yours, wide with confusion, with disbelief, as though he could not fathom how the frightened little girl he once pitied had become the thing standing over him now. His lips parted, but only wet, choking gurgles escaped as blood spilled down his chin.

You pulled the arrow free and struck again.

And Again. Again. Again!

Each blow came with another cry of your own, shoulders shaking so violently you could barely keep your footing. "You—" you choked, driving the shaft forward once more. "You hurt him!" Another strike. "You dared to hurt him!" Another. "You hurt.." Your voice broke completely. "My husband..."

The preacher stumbled backward, his robes darkening as he tried to raise a hand toward you. The monster's body struck the cobblestones with a dull and final thud.

The arrow slipped from your fingers. For a long moment you simply stood there as blood dripped from your hands.

Slowly, you turned. The entire square stared back at you. The hunters still held their bows, yet not a single one remembered how to draw the string.

Your chest rose and fell in ragged breaths as tears still streamed down your bloody and blossoming face.

"You wanted a beast..?" You took a single step toward them. Immediately, three men stumbled backward. "You wanted one? Come." Your voice cracked. "Come and see one.."

But no one moved. "Come!" The scream birthed itself from somewhere so deep inside of you that it didn't sound human.

A little girl burst into terrified sobs. One of the hunters looked desperately toward the preacher's body, waiting. Waiting for an order that would never come.

Their shepherd lay dead and their certainty had died beside him. The square, so full of righteous fury only moments before, suddenly felt very small, very quiet and very afraid.

You looked from one face to the next. Faces that had watched them beat you, that had cheered, that had called your husband a devil. Not one of them met your eyes now.

"Sweet girl..."

Heart lunching, you spun around at once.

Leon had managed to push himself halfway upright before his strength deserted him again, one blood soaked hand pressed uselessly against the wound in his chest. "Leon, do not move.."

Both hands found his face, brushing blood matted strands of hair away from his brow. "Can you stand?" you whispered.

He tried but his knees buckled almost immediately, a pained sound escaping him.

"I-I've got you," you whispered, gathering him into your arms as though nothing else in the world existed. "I've got you.."

His forehead rested against yours. Even now, with the square frozen in horrified silence, his only concern was you. "My brave.." he began, his voice barely there. A faint smile was on his lips despite the pain. "My brave girl of the moon.."

You gathered him against your chest, letting him rest where your heartbeat was strongest, and through trembling lips you sang the very melody that had once guided a frightened little girl through the same woods he had watched over for centuries, long before you had ever known the wolf's name.

Far where the spring begins and winter ends..

Caught on a death-ill wind, the river bends.

A dear woodpecker that sings my plight,

Of one thirsty summer, when one had might.

The rain that knows my sorrow, the willow tree...

Has its roots of autumn remember me.

You take a deep breath as tears fall upon his still, but barely, smiling face. You brushed the hair from his face with careful fingers as you continued.

So sleep, my dearest child, your mother's here.

As flowers bloom with life, no monster's near.

The sound of midnight stars shall keep us safe.

None shall hurt thee, dear, in mother's wake..

The last note lingered only for a moment before the forest claimed it. You rested your forehead against his, crying. "You promised—" you whispered with a smile that fought apart beneath fresh tears. "You promised you'd never leave me alone again.."

Still, the wind had no answer.