I'd been correct, Conn hadn't wanted to talk. Pushing him would've done more damage than good and so, for a while, we'd just sat together under the ash, not quite touching, not speaking, and both painfully aware that sooner or later we'd have to part company. When he finally decided it was time for me to 'return to my wolf', my aching heart gave another lurch, but there was nothing I could do to ease it. I knew that no matter what happened, I was going to hurt. That was the curse of loving both Leof and Abroðen.
Before we left, Conn placed his hand on the trunk of the ash, letting his magic flow into it, manipulating its cells to carve a promise into its bark.
Even when we cannot help, we see. We care.
I touched the tree too, adding another line to the etched promise, which I hoped would help us gain some of what Tiw was claiming with his cult; belief. Power.
Woden, Rightful King of Ésageard, and Fríge.
We said very little as we made our way back to our bikes, except when I demanded that he text to let me know he'd reached Milbank in one piece. He'd laughed but conceded that he'd do so, as long as I let him know I'd reached the camp safely. I agreed to that.
My mind whirred as I rode north, repeating everything Conn had said over and over like a broken record, while my heart continued to wage war over which man I wanted to devote myself to. Should I fight for Conn but lose Fenn? Should I allow what was growing between Fenn and me to go as far as it could, and concede to Conn's insistence that we were over? I would love and be loved either way, it would hurt either way. But what was I supposed to do?
I was no further forward with that conundrum as I parked my ride and text Conn with a simple 'home safe'. He'd already messaged confirming he was at Milbank and suffering Gunner's wrath. Personally, I'd rather be facing a berating off our Second and Head of Security than returning to Fenn, at least while feeling as conflicted as I did. Avoiding him was out of the question, though. Especially as I could feel his anxiety and an irritating resignation that revealed that he still believed the decision I'd make to be a foregone conclusion.
Making my way back to the bonfire, I was surprised by just how many wolves were still up. It had gotten late in the time I'd been with Conn. Many would normally be asleep. However, concern for their chief had kept them from leaving him to fret. Fenn's pack loved him, far more than they necessarily had months previously. He'd earned their trust by caring for them deeply and I admired both his people and him for the relationship they'd developed since he'd taken over, just as I'd often admired how deeply Conn cared for his cohort, and they for him.
Hesitating just outside the circle of light cast by the fire, I lingered in the shadows, out of sight of the wolves. They talked quietly, whispering to each other and casting furtive glances at their Chief as he gently strummed his guitar, a deep frown pulling his dark brows down as he stared into the fire. Aetherwig leaned towards him, whispering something I couldn't make out. He shrugged and shook his head, replying with something that looked like 'I don't know'.
He was as stunning as ever, even though his expression was pensive, with dark waves of unkempt hair framing his face and green eyes reflecting the orange of the fire. His stubble covered jaw was strong, his straight nose proud, his size and stature giving him the appearance of a mythological hero, even though Fenrir would never be recognised as such. Everything about him attracted me. It always had. But what I loved was his heart. He'd sacrificed any dreams he'd ever had to protect his pack. He'd become something he hadn't wanted to be to try and ensure his people's safety. Despite having been beaten and berated, he cared deeply, offered love without expectation. I adored him. The idea of him not being in my life was enough to cause my throat to constrict and bands of pain to tighten around my chest.
