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Wick tried to tell her again to run. But the only thing that came from his throat was a roar, rough and hungry. His claws burst from his fingers, digging into the Titan’s arms. A redtinge enveloped the world. He could only hope that he devoured Marigold’s body first, giving Briar enough time to flee.

The being that was once Marigold glowed brighter, the white light bleeding red.

“You are ours,” the voice said.

Wick squeezed his eyes shut. The world disappeared, leaving only a wild pounding of his own blood through his veins, telling him to strike, to hurt, tokill.

But there was something underneath it. Something small and stubborn and beautiful, even when she was tired or pained or sleeping.

She did not run. She had stayed with him, her voice cutting through his frenzy. She was saying many things, but only one word made it through:

“Wick.”

Wick growled, prying his eyes open to meet those of the glowing Titan’s.

“I am not yours,” he managed, the word thick and thorny. “I am HERS!”

His grip tightened. The Titan’s arms broke underneath his hands, its flimsy mortal bones splintering.

“Good,” the Titan said.“Let it consume you. Become what you were always meant to be.”

“Let me show you,” Wick demanded. “Let me show you what I am, what I truly am. You will see.”

With every piece of will he had left, he pressed his forehead to the Titan’s.

The Titan paused. “Very well.”

Its glow was so bright it made his eyes water, even when he closed them. Still, he stayed, Briar’s voice finally fading as the Titan did as he asked.

The world fell away. He could feel the Titan groping through his head, watching his memories with detached curiosity:

The first time he attempted to make a friend, a frog he dubbed Froggy, who met an untimely end on Wick’s claws. The first time that he was chased out of a village. His first nest, covered in as much softness as he could find. Waking up time after time from a blood frenzy, the anguish fading to quiet disappointment after so many centuries.

Then, finally: Briar. The shock in her gorgeous eyes as he instructed her to hurt him. The delicious stretch of her hole, the contentment of curling up around her in sleep. Her wary gaze, filled with disbelief and lust and finally trust. The bliss of tasting her, of feeling her tighten around him. Her tearful eyes as he told her to hurt him once again in the ravine. Her careful hands rubbing cream into his burns, feeding him rabbit, and tending to him with a care no one had ever shown him.

He wanted to keep her safe. But mostly, he wanted to keep her. And the Titan saw all of it, every small second.

At the end of his memories, the Titan sighed in disappointment.

You really should have eaten her,it said inside his head.

Then it withdrew. Wick stumbled, the forest flooding back into place around him as he righted himself.

Briar grabbed his side, as if her small stature could help. “Wick! Are you alright? What happened? Your eyes were glowing!”

“I am fine,” he assured her.

He blinked hard. The red haze was dimming, but the frenzy was still there. He could feel it at the edges of his mind, waiting.

“Please,” Wick rasped. “You can do it. I know you can.”

The Titan drifted from his grasp. Its skin was broken, light showing between the gaps. It looked down at him, its glowing eyes fixed on its creation.

At first, Wick thought it would forsake him. He could feel its contempt, in the end. But its next words were not a condemnation; it was a command.

“Break the amulet,”it said.

Wick looked down at Briar, who clutched the amulet protectively.