Page 104 of Sacrifice
"Your mother would have loved her," Fenrir says quietly, and Emil goes still. His biological mother's been gone for years, rarely mentioned. Charm is the only mother Emil has known since then. "Strong, fierce, doesn't take your shit. Just like her."
"Thanks, Dad."
Fenrir nods, pats Emil's shoulder carefully, then moves away.
I see Emil swallow hard, affected by the comparison.
"You okay?" I ask.
"Yeah. He just... doesn't talk about her much."
"Want to tell me about her?"
"Later. When it's just us." He brings my hand to his lips. "But he's right. She would have loved you."
As the evening winds down, people drift away.
Elfe's taken home by her parents, and promises to text me later about dog breeds.
The old ladies clean up dinner, shooing me away when I try to help.
"Take your man to bed," Everly orders. "He looks ready to drop."
She's right.
Emil's flagging, the day catching up.
I get him back to his room, help him out of his clothes.
"I can manage," he protests weakly.
"Shut up and let me take care of you."
He submits, letting me get him comfortable.
Once he's settled, I change into one of his shirts, curl up beside him.
The cut hangs carefully over the chair, a reminder of what we've committed to.
"Thank you," he says into the darkness.
"For what?"
"Saying yes. Taking care of me. Being you."
"Sweet talker."
"I mean it." His good arm pulls me closer. "Never thought I'd have this. Someone who sees all of me—the violence, the damage, my need to control—and doesn't run."
"I'm not running anywhere. Except maybe to look at dogs online."
He chuckles. "Already?"
"I'm thinking a Rottweiler. Maybe a German Shepherd. Oh, or one of those huge Mastiffs that drool everywhere but look like they eat people. We’ll have to see what’s at the shelter, of course."
"Whatever you want. Long as they protect you."
"They'll protect all of us. Our little fortress family." I trace patterns on his chest. "Elfe is excited about moving in, she almost started crying."
