While Holly and Pip played, Briar attempted to open the window. He jerked the latch in frustration, but it wouldn’t budge.

And his expression grew tense.

The window opened fine this morning.

He tried again.

If they could escape and make it across the river, the forest would be too thick for a wolf to chase them. They could hide until Briar’s husband returned home, and, hopefully, the wolf would be gone forever.

“Mama.”

Briar turned with a gasp.

Holly and Pip sat surrounded by small toys and clouds of white steam. They watched him curiously, and Holly was the first to speak.

“It’s too cold to open the window.” She said.

Briar slipped into a chair and took several calming breaths. He worried both children might catch a whiff of the danger they were in if they saw it on his face or heard it in his voice.

Pip leaned over the edge of the tub and tapped his mother’s hand, his tiny, spotted ears dropping against his hair. “Mama, are you sick?”

Briar stared at Pip’s hand, then cupped it with his own and gave it a kiss. “I’m fine, my sweet boy. I-I’m only a little tired.”

What am I going to do?

Holly scooted closer to her brother, making a little room on the other side of the tub.

“Do you want to take a bath too?” Her voice was an echo behind Briar’s anxious heartbeats.

He can eat me. He can do it slowly if he wants. I’ll take whatever pain just as long as he doesn’t hurt them.

Briar stood, unable to sit and wait any longer. He stepped closer to the tub and touched both children on the cheek.

They smiled, sinking into their mother’s warm, soft hands as he rubbed behind their ears.

“I’ll be right back with fresh towels, so don’t make a mess.”

“We won’t!” Pip bobbed happily in place.

Briar smiled and made sure to shut the door tight after he left the washroom.

Their home suddenly felt so quiet.

No footsteps or voices.

His ears turned and tilted, listening closely for any movements or foreign breathing. He heard the children, the wind outside—but no sign of the wolf.

Was it foolish to hope he left?

Briar hugged himself and cautiously approached a ray of light coming from the doorway.

The glow and crackle of the fireplace had deepened as if someone had fed it more wood. And from the hallway, Briar could see the kitchen where dinner continued to cook over the stove.

But a scent in the air, one thicker than iron and more poignant than a fresh wound, prevented him from taking another step.

His ears dropped against his oaken hair, and he flinched with a gasp.

A shadow—or something more solid and real—lurked past the light of the doorway.

Briar closed his eyes and hid behind his hands like a frightened child.

But, nothing happened.

He took a peek.

Still. Nothing.

Briar retreated backward and felt something move behind him. He turned with a half-scream caught under his palms, and a large hand seized his waist.

The wolf pulled Briar into his chest, where the smell of blood made him dizzy with fear. He squeezed Briar’s ass until flesh gathered in between his fingers.

“You haven’t had your bath yet, madam,” A roll of laughter echoed past the shadows of his fangs.

“Please…” Briar managed with shivering lips. His head fell back, baring his neck under the weight of instinct and inviting the wolf to gather the sweet scent of his skin.

He felt claws grazing the base of his tail, and every sharp, threatening caress made him hard and wet.

“Please, what, little wife?” The wolf asked in the gentle tone of a false friend.

Briar couldn’t stop his body from shaking nor control the tears running down his face. Threads of saliva dripped onto the nape of his neck, and he whimpered after the wolf tightened his grip to demand an answer.

“D-Don’t eat my children…” He begged. “You can...eat me. I won’t resist. Anything you want...just...don’t hurt them. Please, let them go.”

“Anything?”

Though he was too afraid to look upon the wolf’s face, Briar could hear the delight woven within that one word.

“What if, dear madam, I wanted your eyes?” He asked, taking the little wife’s chin and lifting his gaze.

It was difficult to stand the longer Briar stared into the wolf’s eyes, a look urging him to beg to be fucked or eaten, whichever felt better. And if it weren’t for the wolf’s firm grip around his hips, Briar would’ve fainted across the floor like a storybook maiden, still breathing and ready for the taking.

“Would you let me pry them out of your skull?” Both his thumbs swept over the tender bones of Briar’s dark-bright eyes. His teeth looked bigger with every word, and the corners of his mouth began to split into a predator’s true smile.

“What about your lips?” The wolf lowered until his breath danced along Briar’s lips in a daunting promise to bite them.

“Would you give me your teeth? Your ears?” He asked. “Say I wanted your fingers, your limbs? What if I wished to turn you into a cripple under my shadow for the rest of your life?”

Bumps rose all over Briar’s arms. His heart pounded to the rush flooding his body with a foreign desire, feelings made of awful, ugly temptations.

And he nodded desperately.

“Ah, then your flesh too? Your bones?” He added like a gluttonous man ready to savor another meal. “What about the blood that keeps your insides tender or the tears you weep. Will that do?”

A claw traced the full shape of Briar’s mouth, turning any response into a breathy sigh.

“What if, madam, I wanted...this?” A long finger slid from the base of Briar’s frightened little tail to the cleft of his ass.

Briar exhaled a shivering moan. His eyes fluttered shut, and he sought the wolf’s massive shoulders for stability.

The wolf continued to play with that tender spot, finding nothing but satisfaction in watching the young, deprived wife bring himself closer and lift his slender hips in a silent, shameful cry for more.

Briar soaked the wolf’s shirt with tears and saliva as he started to lose himself to the heat moving through him. He rubbed his hard, swollen nipples against the beast’s body to tame their desire to be licked and sucked.

“S-Stop…stop,” Briar begged, his cheek pressing into the wolf’s chest where he heard heavy, endless heartbeats. And he prayed his children didn’t come out of the washroom to find him writhing and wet over another man—over a wolf.

Then, everything stopped.

The wolf pulled away, leaving Briar fighting the desire to seek his touch once more.

“Go have your bath, madam,” The wolf said, silencing Briar’s desirous noises with his thumb. “Then, we will eat.”

His eyes faded like lamplight, and he walked past Briar, taking the scent of midnight lust and blood with him into the other room.

And Briar returned to his children, but not before making sure his eyes were dry.