Curse Of Blood: Gods & Monsters

Chapter LVIII⎮Brenna

With only the muted light of the moon through a cloud bank, Brenna ran. But she could barely see even a small distance in front of her face, so it was with icy horror coursing beneath her skin that she slowed her pace, lest she turn her ankle; and surrender herself to the nightmare giving chase.

The sylvan moan of a wolf suddenly echoed through the darkling forest — a terrible and excited baying that stopped as suddenly as it had begun. The hunt was on.

She had never known such debilitating dread. Nonetheless, she halted a precious moment to steel herself as she reached into her boot to pull out a blade she'd hidden there. Not in the least would she scruple to use it against her lover, for tonight he was as like to eat her as kiss her.

Hair and earth cleaved to her dampened brow as she sprinted and stumbled, sometimes even falling; but always did she pull herself up and run again. What other choice did she have? It was not in her to surrender, and she would not — not if it killed her — allow Renic to live with the fact that he'd been the means by which she'd died. He would never forgive himself that horror.

As before, she turned ever and anon to catch panicked glances over her shoulder, but the darkness was no friend of hers. She saw nothing. Not till the moon deigned to peer around the clouds did she look again; and then promptly wished that she hadn't.

Just as in her dream she saw them: two hulking beasts giving chase. One a dusky grey and the other a lesser shade of black. Both were bearing down on her with stunning speed, refulgent eyes locked to her fleeing back.

With the blade grasped fiercely in her hand she exhorted her legs to lengthen their strides, which they did. Even the pain and the bruises had vanished in the face of this fatal threat. Although she had not screamed when first she saw the pair, a sudden shriek of terror erupted willfully from her throat as she felt a great, furred head slip swiftly beneath her legs so that she was sitting bestride a wolf.

In her abject panic, she had fetched a quick stab between its shoulders with her hunting blade. But the creature gave only grunt of pain and continued pell mell through the darkness with Brenna cleaving to his back. It meant not to do her harm after all.

"Back stabber!" said the wolf with sibilant reproof.

"Loki?!" she cried, stupefied, pulling her blade free and wrapping her arms about his neck in a paroxysm of teary relief. "Oh! sweet Frejya, thank you!"

"Freyja?" he scoffed in a strange, guttural voice. "Ha! what has she to do with ought? I'd wager she'd not take a blade for you."

Brenna was too relieved to take umbrage and twisted around to see the grey beast bearing down on them. "Faster, Loki!" she urged, her hands tightening in his bloodied fur.

With unexpected promptitude Loki's body began to swell between her legs till he was as large and frightening as a blackfish. And though Renic was not quite as large as a sea wolf, in his present state, he was certainly larger and more frightening than an ice bear!

Safe atop the back of her unexpected rescuer, Brenna turned around again to gauge Renic's distance from them. He was tossing his head with wrathful grunts as he followed suit, but Loki's protracted strides had done much to frustrate his son's advance. Still, he followed, which was, after all, the point of all this madness.

Whooping her great relief, Brenna leaned down to flatten herself against Loki so as to streamline their bodies, her ankles buried in the fur over his heaving ribs. Whilst her face was flush against his pelt, his shifting thews working beneath her, she kissed him soundly. To that he said nothing to rile her, as she might have expected; he only tacitly accepted her gratitude and forged on towards the sanguinary glow lapping sinisterly at the horizon.