Chapter 1: Chapter One

With my life placed before me, I had a safe path planned. Safe, not sensational. That’s what Sister Marianne told me over and over as a girl. Whenever I told her I wanted to grow up to be like Irian, the half-dragon who challenged a wizard school that only taught men, the old nun would roll her eyes. 

“You should spend more time with Paul and less time with Le Guin, Lea. Your mind is too wound up in storybooks,” she’d scolded. “You want to read about a strong woman? Try Ruth. Now that was a powerful woman, taking care of Naomi and winning the love of Boaz!” 

Gross, I always thought. But she never let up, unto her dying day. 

“In life, one should always strive to be safe, not sensational,” Marianne recited often. 

That’s what I got for growing up in a Catholic orphanage. 

Eventually, Sister Marianne won. Because I did plan out a safe path. Good grades in high school, a math scholarship to college, a degree in accounting, and a finance job working for the largest insurance company in Boston. 

I traded out my Ursula K. Le Guin and Madeleine L'Engle novels for autobiographies and podcasts like “Planet Money.” 

By 25, I was the spitting image of safe, not sensational. I had a small studio apartment in Boston’s Chinatown neighborhood above a dumpling house, a closet of clothes from Goodwill and other thrift stores, and a daily route that allowed me to walk 10 blocks to work. 

I never let my curly black hair fall below my shoulders. Always dressed moderately in slacks or skirts. And I was always too busy to date, not that I had any interest in the one or two guys that’d asked me out to coffee. The girls? Well, Marianne always told me the sin wasn’t in attraction, but acting on it. So I was too busy for them, too. 

Checking account, 401k, high deductible health insurance, health savings account, flexible spending account, gym membership used twice a week, including a self-defense class? Safe. And dreadfully dull. 

But that was okay! Because safe people have everything they need. A roof over their head, food in their bellies, shoes on their feet, coats, and a warm bed. These were all blessings I thanked God for every day, though more out of habit and tradition than belief. 

And I told myself, if I say busy, then I won’t realize how miserably empty my life is. So, if I wasn’t working, I was exercising. And if I wasn’t exercising, I was volunteering at the orphanage, usually cleaning. 

One particular Saturday night, when the children were in bed and the nuns were having a Bible study, I was scrubbing mirrors in the girls’ bathroom. I’d finished the first two and was wiping some kind of smeared smudge from the last surface when I finally got a good look at my face. 

Covered in sweat, green eyes staring back at me. A crooked nose that never quite healed right after being broken on the playground as a kid. Mostly-straight teeth courtesy of the world’s oldest retainer I’d been forced to use growing up. That was me, the happiest girl alive. 

“Look at you, Lea Trello. Polishing mirrors on a Saturday night when all the cool kids are out on dates or singing karaoke with their friends. But not you,” I said, staring at my reflection and sighing. “But hey, it gets better. Because as soon as you’re done with this mirror, there’s a toilet behind you that needs to be unclogged and sanitized. Blessed are the meek for they shall live boring lives and die in a nunnery.” 

I almost felt bad saying that last part. I expected to turn and find Sister Marianne staring at me from the doorway. No leaning, mind you. Because she had proper posture, even at 85. The old bat would probably live to 115 without a single slouch. 

But there was nobody there. The chipped wooden door with its mismatched handles and hinges stood closed. I stared down at the brown tile floor, eyes moving across the squares between stains from ages of water stains until my gaze fell upon my cleaning cart. 

Dropping my dirty rag in the center compartment, I sighed and leaned against the wall next to a shuttered window overlooking a backyard from five stories up. 

Fuck me, I thought. What I would give to be. . . 

My thought trailed off. I was too scared to finish it. If I did, it’d become a wish. And wishes were dangerous. They were sensational, not safe. 

Shit, what I’d give to be someone brave enough to make a wish. 

“I wish. . . I could be—” but my voice trailed off, still lacking the required bravery to finish speaking my greatest desire. 

That’s when a woman’s voice spoke up behind me, causing my heart to leap seven stories into the air, or at least to the bottom of my throat. 

“You wish you could be what, dear?” she asked. 

Slowly turning, my blood pressure rising with every inch of the bathroom that came into view, my eyes settled upon the image of a translucent woman standing on the tile, towering over me. 

My eyes widened as I took in the visage of this. . . ghost? What exactly was standing before me? She must have been at least six feet tall with long wavy hair the color of leaves in autumn. Her violet eyes pierced my own as though I could keep no secrets from her. The woman’s gaze penetrated every defense as I tried to slow my breathing. 

Her ghostly form wore some kind of cracked leather armor over a purple blouse and dark trousers with the left pants leg torn at the knee. And as if being a see-through spirit wasn’t the weirdest part, I noticed two pointy dog-like ears twitched on top of her head. 

When she took a step toward me, I saw a bushy tail the same shade as her hair swishing from left to right. On each hand, claws at least two inches long protruded from every finger. 

I froze, panicked. Was this a demon of some kind? I tried to recall what the Bible said you were supposed to do when you encountered an evil spirit, but my mind went blank. That wasn’t uncommon though. It did that all the time. If someone asked me what I wanted for dinner, I suddenly forgot the name of every restaurant in my neighborhood. What was food? I didn’t know.

“Wh-what?” I stammered, finally finding my voice. 

The woman stopped a few feet in front of me. 

“What were you going to wish to be?” she asked. 

I shook my head. 

“I don’t understand,” I said. 

She smirked. 

“I’m not going to hurt you, dear. I just wanted you to finish your wish. What do you want to be? Because apparently, it’s not a janitor,” she said. 

Outside the window, I heard a truck backfire as it continued down a nearby street. Then there was a crash as it struck a garbage can. The driver got out and swore loud enough I heard every word up here. And that made more sense to me than this woman’s question. 

“What are you?” I managed to choke out. 

She shook her head and grinned. 

“I’ll tell you when you answer my question,” she said. 

What was her question? Oh, right! My wish. What was I going to wish for exactly? I don’t know. . . to be someone else, I guess. But that would be sensational. And I felt stupid telling this ghost about that. 

“I. . . guess I was going to wish I was someone else, doing something more exciting than scrubbing bathroom mirrors,” I said. 

The woman’s smile only grew, revealing a canine overbite on the left side of her lips. I gasped, one more detail for my poor brain to process, assuming I was even awake to think through anything right now. 

“Now that is exactly what I was hoping your wish would be,” she said. “I’m a goddess, well, slain goddess, from another world. And if that really is your wish, I could grant it here and now.” 

Shaking my head, my earbuds fell out and dangled on their off-white cable hanging from my shoulders. A slain goddess? Was it possible I’d inhaled too much cleaning fluid? There’s a downside to the orphanage only buying the cheap stuff that comes in bulk, I pondered, staring over at my cleaning cart. 

“I don’t understand,” I said. 

“I’ll give you the basic rundown. I’m from another world. It’s called Gyrrelle. There, I was the Wolf Goddess, protector of wild canines and the hunt. But I was killed by another god and lost all my followers and power. So, I lingered somewhere between life and death for a while until a tiny piece of my strength returned. And I used it to come here,” she said as if I was just supposed to take everything at face value. 

Everything she said sounded like the truth. I wasn’t sure if it was because nobody would make up a story that crazy, or if she was just that convincing. At the very least, she believed everything that came out of her mouth. 

“Okay. . . so you died. How did you get some power back?” I asked. 

She shrugged. 

“I guess someone must have kept on praying to me for a long time. I’m not sure,” she said. 

“And you used that power to come here? To my world?” 

The wolf goddess nodded and sighed, not out of impatience with my questions, but out of apparent exhaustion. I imagined dying and traveling between worlds took it out of ya. 

“If you used all your power to get here, how are you going to grant my wish?” I asked, cocking my head to the side. 

There was that wolfish grin again. 

“Well, Lea, I didn’t use all of my power. I used most of it. And I’ve got plans for the last bit,” she said. 

I motioned for her to continue. 

“If you truly wish to be someone else, then here’s what I propose. Let me use the last bit of my power to merge my remaining essence with your soul. Then I’ll take us back to Gyrrelle. And you’ll be the new wolf goddess,” she said, putting her claws on her ghost hips, waiting for an answer. 

I shook my head again. 

“Wait, you’d. . . merge. And I’d be. . . you? How on Earth would that even work? And why me?” I asked. 

The goddess scoffed. 

“Well, I’ll answer the easier question first. Why you? Luck of the draw, kid. When I got to your world a couple of hours ago, I showed up here. I don’t know the first thing about this place, but I saw you walk by and decided to follow. All night I’ve watched you clean this place. You sigh a lot. Your back droops. You’ve got several knots in your shoulders. I think it’s clear you’re wildly unhappy. And I figure, if you’re someone who freely spends hours cleaning shitters for underprivileged children, you must have a decent heart. I think you’d make a decent goddess.”

As if to prove her point, I sighed. 

“See? Right there. That’s what I’m talking about. You do it so often, you probably aren’t even aware anymore. So here’s my offer. You go back to Gyrrelle and pick up where I left off before the Bear God killed me. You’ll reincarnate as me with a fraction of my power. Then you can track down the four pieces of my heart that fucking Bear God split and hid across the continent. Devour them all, and then you’ll have all my power at your disposal.” 

Now I scoffed. 

“And then what? Avenge you? Track down this Bear God and get killed a second time?”

She vanished before my eyes, and I jumped about two feet off the ground. Sudden movements and noises freaked me out a little bit. 

“Sorry about that,” she said, now sitting on the edge of a sink. “I think my power is about spent. Your window for the wish is closing faster than I anticipated. But, to answer your last question, no. I don’t expect you to avenge me. Once you’ve got all my previous power, you can do what everyone else does.” 

“Like?”

“Travel. Make friends. Try new food. Dance under the starlight. Swim in lakes with names you can’t even pronounce. Fall in love,” she said. “All the things you’re clearly not doing in this life.” 

When she mentioned the part about falling in love, the Wolf Goddess’ eyes looked at the floor for just a moment. And it looked like she was suddenly much older, as though a forlorn feeling robbed her of any remaining vitality. 

I rubbed my hands through my hair and counted to three. When I opened my eyes, the Wolf Goddess was still there, kicking her feet under the sink. 

Why the fuck am I even considering this? It’s nuts, I thought. People don’t become goddesses.

Pacing across the bathroom between stalls, I continued to think of questions I didn’t have time to get into. There were so many points of logic to ponder here. In the end, I settled for looking right into those piercing violet eyes and asking, “So. . . what? You merge your essence with me? What’s that like? You possess me?” 

Pretty sure there were stories in the holy book I’d forgotten the name of that discussed the subject of possession, none of it good. 

That forlorn expression recaptured the goddess’ face again. 

“No, dear. I merge with you, you go back to Gyrrelle as me, and then you don’t see me or hear me again until you’ve obtained my full power,” she said. “I become some part of your subconscious. Beyond that, I have no clue what’ll happen.” 

She flashed out again and reappeared a minute later with a hand on her chest near the window once more. 

“Time’s about up, Lea. If you don’t want this, just say so now. You’re under no obligation to become me. But if you’ve ever thought, just once in your life, about how amazing it’d be to live in a world of magic and beasts you didn’t even have names for, this is your ship. All aboard,” she said, growing more transparent. 

I started to cry. I’m not sure why, but this was a lot of pressure, and I didn’t handle that kind of thing well. Not very goddess-like of me. 

“Why can’t you just use your power to reincarnate yourself? Why do you need someone else to become you?” I asked in a panic. My breathing was growing more shallow, and I ran my fingers through my hair again, snagging some. 

The goddess fell to her knees, shivering. 

“In my world, Death has strict rules for slain gods. No returning to life. No direct reincarnation, the price we pay for the power and longevity we carry. But if someone else becomes us? Well. . . that’s a bit of a loophole,” she said, coughing. 

“Wait. . . I become you? Like, I’ll eventually cease to be?”

She nodded. 

“What is life, Lea? It’s a collection of experiences, relationships, deeds, and memories. Your life here seems unremarkable thus far. So if someone offered you a chance to stop being Lea and instead become a goddess, an entirely different person, wouldn’t you take it?” 

I didn’t know how to answer that. I wasn’t happy with who I’d become in this life thanks to constant prodding from Sister Marianne to squeeze into a tiny, neat box. But to become someone else entirely? That seemed drastic. 

Or. . . sensational, I thought. 

“It’s not like upon regaining my power I’ll squeeze your soul out, and you’ll die. You become me, my habits, my memories, my powers, and my burdens. All of that. . . you. But it’s not like you’ll wake up one day and realize something is different. The transformation will be gradual and feel right as it happens, I promise. Trust me, between the powers, the new world to explore, and. . . her, you’re gaining so much more than you’ll ever sacrifice here.” 

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She fell to all fours now, coughing and fading in and out like a television with rabbit ears, struggling to pull in a signal. The goddess was becoming static between channels. 

Rushing to her, I screamed, “Take me from this world. Make me someone new in an exciting life. I want everything you mentioned, travels, adventures, friends, and love. If all these things you promise, then I will become you. I will leave Lea behind and become the Wolf Goddess.” 

Somewhere outside, I heard Marianne calling. 

“Lea? What’s all the noise? Are you okay?”

The stamp of her cane on the concrete floors outside started to get closer. She was coming to see me either crying in an empty bathroom or. . . who knows what. 

A rush of wind burst through the window and slammed all the doors of each stall shut. Fog rose from the sinks, and the mirrors steamed over in crystal ice. 

Power. This was a piece of her power granting my wish. Had I made an error acting so sensationally? I didn’t even know the goddess’ name I’d vowed to become. 

Her ghostly hands grasped my shoulders, and I felt an icy chill emanate through the upper half of my body. My breath steamed as I breathed, and my lungs suddenly carried winter air from a land not my own. 

“I grant your wish. No more are you Lea Trello, a human from this realm. From now on and forever more, you are Ruka the Wolf Goddess. Find my heart. Consume it. Protect the canines of the tundra, the forests, the mountains, and the prairies. Honor the hunt. And live a good life, Ruka. You’re me now. Try not to fuck it up,” she said, winking.

With that, her body dissolved in a cloud of snowflakes and flew straight into my heart, as though flesh and ribs were no obstacle. Just as the bathroom door opened, and I heard Marianne ask a question, I fell to the floor and breathed my last. 

 

***

 

I’m not sure how long I was out. Minutes, hours, days, and years all felt the same to me, drifting in the void of black. And while I’m not sure how long it took, I did eventually notice a smell, old trees, vines, wet leaves, and chilled stone. But if I could smell, surely I wasn’t— what, dead? Is that what I was considering? Had this all been some cruel trick? 

Was I in a hospital bed somewhere? No, then the smells would be different. And believe me, smells were different. 

It was like. . . before I collapsed, smells were simple colors: red, green, yellow. But now. . . smells were specific colors, the kinds you only saw on the back of the Crayola box, turquoise, cyan, chartreuse. They’d taken on a new life. 

And then the sounds did as well. I heard running water, slight, but continuous. And the sound of leaves rustling. Branches groaning in the breeze. In the distance, the howl of wolves. So very far away. But. . . it felt like all of them. Every wolf. I heard their cries as their echoes carried through the skies. 

My eyes gradually opened, and I was grateful for the dark. There was no piercing light to hurt me, only something dancing nearby. Candles?

Groaning, I realized my body was collapsed onto stone covered in vines and fronds piled here and there. 

As feeling returned to other parts of my body, I began to ponder that I could rise, maybe even come to a full stand, wherever I was. 

It took several minutes, but eventually, I did stand, climbing up from my knees on some kind of stone railing. Looking around, I saw four lit candles in a square around me, each flame a different color, green, purple, blue, and red. 

Somehow, I’d been moved to a platform of some kind. Beneath me in the stone, carvings of some kind of runes and a large circle pattern, glowing green, then purple, then blue, and finally red, over and over in that cycle. 

“The fuck?” I croaked, immediately placing my hands over my mouth. My voice did not sound right at all. I’d always had a fairly high and airy voice. In the church choir, I sang soprano. Now I had the husky voice of a. . . oh, fuck me. 

Looking down at my hands, I saw familiar claws, ones Ruka had in her ghostly form. Pulling my hair around, I found it twice as long and the color of leaves. 

This isn’t happening, I thought. 

And where I should have been hyperventilating. . . I just. . . wasn’t. I was startled, but not panicked, which felt strange because Lea always panicked. I was a panicker from ages 2-25, starting right about the time I had a concept of myself. 

Running down long flat stairs before me to the even grassy ground I found the source of streaming water I’d heard. It was a fountain with two layers. The bottom was a large shallow dish with moss hanging from several sides. Above it sat a smaller bowl that a little bit of water trickled out of, falling into the basic below. 

As I came to the water, I took a deep breath and then leaned over, looking at my reflection. Ruka the Wolf Goddess stared back at me, same violet eyes, same pointy ears on my head, and same sharpened canines with an overbite on the left side. Somehow I was even paler than I was in my prior Boston tan (my one joke back home). Nobody gets a tan in Boston. 

Twisting behind me, I saw Ruka’s bushy tail, waving back and forth uncontrollably. Well, that wasn’t right. It was my bushy tail now. Because I was Ruka. 

“I’m Ruka,” I spoke aloud for the first time in several minutes. The voice was still strange, but not as weird as the first time I’d heard it. And the name fit like a glove. 

“Hey Ruka, wanna grab some dinner?”

“Hey Ruka, that’s a cute sweater.” 

“Ruka, can we walk out to the parking lot together?”

I practiced saying the name using several things coworkers had said to Lea in my other life. And each time, Ruka felt exactly like my name. Like one a mother and father had given me. . . if goddesses even had parents. 

“Motherfucker. . . she actually did it. I’m the Wolf Goddess,” I said, looking around the grotto I found myself in. 

Druidic statues of hooded figures with mallets and cudgels stood in the four cardinal directions. A large stone arch covered in drooping branches and cracks stood at the entrance to what felt like a sacred space. 

Around me, trees pushed in thick with undergrowth and roots ranging from on the soil to several feet above it. Oaks, pines, ash trees, and more I couldn’t identify surrounded the grove I’d woken up in. 

From the arch, I heard cracking twigs. It wasn’t something Lea would have picked up. But Ruka heard it and smelled the odor of men covered sweat and dirt. Not long after I detected them, they appeared, three of them. Two of them were younger and bald, wearing leather armor that appeared to be in much better shape than mine. The other was an older man with a head of gray hair and a matching beard. 

“Holy shit. . . it actually happened,” the older man said. 

He was holding a bow with a quiver at his side, and the men behind him each held silver daggers, tightly clenched. I heard their heartbeats, rising tension within each. But the older man. . . his shoulders popped as he came to a stop. 

“What is it, Otto?” one of the younger men asked. That’s when the older man spoke up, raising an eyebrow. 

“My great-grandfather used to tell stories about the slain Wolf Goddess, how she died in these woods. He fought against her pack that day, servant of the Bear God. I always thought he was full of shit, but he made quite an impression on my grandfather who made an impression on my father to keep our family here. . . just in case the bitch came back. And here she is.” 

None of that sounded good to me. 

“I don’t suppose if you continued that story, it’d pick up right around the time you disavowed your family’s heritage and decided to serve the Wolf Goddess instead?” I asked. 

To my credit at attempting diplomacy, Otto laughed. 

“Fraid not. We’re servants of the Bear God, long may he reign. When all the wolves of the Agraste Forest started to howl in unison, I figured something was up. Glad I decided to head straight here. The Bear God will reward me nicely for bringing him your resurrected corpse.” 

Before I could retort, he drew back and fired. The arrow scraped the top left of my shoulder, tearing flesh and drawing silver blood. Heat and pain seared through my shoulder. I cried out and clutched the torn flesh with my left hand. 

“Son of a bitch. C’mon, you guys. I just got back. Can’t you give me a five-minute headstart or something?”

Otto laughed again and drew another arrow, firing it off. It landed in my right thigh with a sickening squish and five times as much searing pain. I fell back onto my ass screaming. It missed my bone, but torn muscles and ligaments still hurt like a motherfucker. 

My heart started to speed up, and I growled with a deep resonance that rattled the water in the fountain behind me. It seemed to stop the two younger men in hesitation. But Otto continued to advance, drawing another arrow. 

“This one goes right through your throat. And you can die in the same spot you did 200 years ago, Wolf Goddess. Who knows? Maybe you’ll see my great-grandson in another 200 years. If so, tell him I said hello.” 

I closed my eyes, apologizing to Ruka for ruining her whole reincarnation scheme before it even really got started. I felt silver blood streaming down my knee with the torn pant leg. 

The old man nocked his arrow, and I heard the stretch of the bowstring as he drew back, Otto’s elbow popping like his shoulders. 

And then there was a crack of splintered bone, the spray of fresh blood upon the grass, and the sound of an arrow scraping the stone railing to my right. 

“That’s no way to treat a goddess,” a woman said, walking into the grotto. 

Daring to open my eyes, I saw a woman shorter than me, probably closer to Lea’s height. But she was packed to the gills with sturdy muscle. Long black hair tied back into a braid, a jagged scar on her left cheek, brown eyes out for violence, and a double-headed great axe strapped to her back. 

She was covered in a forest-green cloak secured at the neck by a small decorative bronze wolf skull. Under her cloak, I spotted a chain mail shirt covered in dirt and shredded leaves and dark trousers tucked into chipped, faded maroon boots. Her skin a bit more tan than mine, the axe-wielder took another step into the grotto. 

Otto was on his stomach, bleeding out from the back of his skull courtesy of a hand-axe sticking out of it. I assumed it’d been thrown by the woman I desperately hoped was on my side. She didn’t have to worship me. I just wanted her to rescue me. She could worship Cthuhlu for all I cared. 

Turning to face the newcomer, the two men with Otto held their daggers toward her. 

“Who the fuck are you?” the one who’d been talking to Otto asked. 

“Me? I’m Jenny Red, mortal wife of Ruka the Wolf Goddess. I’ve been convicted of murder, arson, assault, abduction, treason, regicide, and many more charges than I have the patience to recite. So drop your little knives and run, or suck your last few breaths of air before I send you after the old man,” she said. 

Goddamn! She’s a spitfire, I thought. Then my brain finished processing everything she’d said. Wait. . . wife?! 

The smarter man threw down his dagger and ran by Jenny. She let him go without looking back. The dumber man rushed her, and, true to her word, Jenny Red sent him after Otto. I wondered if he’d eventually travel to another world to ask someone to reincarnate with him. 

My thoughts were interrupted by Jenny pulling her hand-axe from Otto’s head, wiping it clean with the edge of her cloak, securing it to her belt, and walking over to me. I stood stunned, but she didn’t hesitate. 

Jenny Red pulled me down into a fierce kiss with both of her scuffed-up hands on my cheeks. And where I should’ve pulled back from this stranger, my body instead melted into her embrace and continued to kiss her. Ruka needed this. . . badly. And I was Ruka now, so I needed this badly. 

Brief flashes of mental images show through my mind like lightning, a wedding ceremony in a sacred grove not too different from this one, running across the tundra with a pack of wolves all around us chasing down a caribou, fighting our way through a line of poachers we’d tracked for days. This was Ruka’s wife— my wife. 

I’d met her two minutes ago and two lifetimes ago. Fuck, this goddess reincarnation thing was tricky. 

When we finally parted to breathe, Jenny, who I remembered liked to be simply be called “Red” when it was just the two of us, spoke with a single tear falling out of her right eye. It slid down her cheek as she gasped. 

“Two hundred years of prayers to you, knowing you were out there somewhere. It’s felt like a fucking eternity, Ruru. But I’m so fucking glad to have you back,” she said, kissing me again. 

I didn’t stop her this time, either. But I did eventually pull back and stammer. 

“I. . . I’m not. I mean— Jenny— Red. . . listen. I know I look like Ruka. And, I am now, I suppose. But I’ve come from another world,” I managed to choke the words out. 

The huntsman stood there, just watching me patiently. She waited for me to get more sentences out.

“Your wife came to me in another world. She asked me to, I dunno, reincarnate into her and come here. The Wolf Goddess merged her essence with my soul and asked me to find the four pieces of her heart. I don’t want to disappoint or deceive you, but. . . I’m not your wife,” I said. 

Red raised an eyebrow. 

“Never was too keen on magic. That was always your department. I just swing my axe and kill our enemies, Ruru. But answer me this, because you certainly kiss like the woman I married. Do you remember me?”

I couldn’t lie to Red. I did remember her, but those were Ruka’s memories. . . the old Ruka, not me Ruka here and now. 

“Do you remember the day we got married, and you wore a dress made entirely of sewn leaves?”

That image came to my mind. I felt the leaves rattling on my body as we walked down the aisle and joined our lives together. I nodded. 

“Do you remember when we killed those fuckers that’d been poaching red wolves down in the Woods of Calla?”

Suddenly I remembered the smell of their blood, and I heard myself howling to signal the start of the hunt, chasing each one of them down and sending them into oblivion. I nodded again. 

“Last one. Do you remember the feel of my tongue between your legs when we made love in Della’s cabin they frequently loaned to us?”

I felt heat in my groin and blushed something fierce at the sudden memory. Before things got too moist, I shook my head. 

Red chuckled. 

“So you see, Ruru, you are my wife. I don’t give a fuck about the technicalities. You started as someone else. You’re gradually becoming the Wolf Goddess. Whatever you want to call it. Your body calls to mine. Our hearts beat as one since the day we joined them in marriage. You are and will always be my beloved,” she said, wrapping her arms around me and pressing her face into my chest. 

I exhaled suddenly. Her grip was strong. But again, I folded into her embrace without question. Even if I didn’t know her before now, this body did. This brain did. Maybe that was good enough for the moment. 

After several long minutes of embracing each other, Red pulled back, wiping another tear from her cheek. 

“Okay, I’ve got a camp nearby where we can bandage your wounds. After that, we’ll go get your heart put back together. I know where the first piece is, and it’ll take a few days to get there.” 

I nodded, and Red took my hand, leading me out of the grotto, one limp at a time until she grew tired with the pace and carried me. The Wolf Goddess and her wife. Fuck, this was definitely sensational. Wish granted, I guess?

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