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I will show her that even a dire wolf can adapt and think beyond instinct and territory.

And perhaps, in time, she might see that beneath the fur and fang lies a heart capable of more than possession—capable of devotion without demand.

16

Lily

I’ve spent the last two days alternating between sensible self-lectures, “Go home, Lily, this is insane”, and increasingly unhelpful fantasizing about three very different monsters who’ve somehow all decided I’m worth fighting over.

The gifts from Kaelen sit on my kitchen counter—fresh berries I’ve half devoured, wildflowers arranged in a mason jar, and yes, his very own fur, which I may or may not have sniffed a hundred times already today.

The gesture's thoughtfulness, especially after my meltdown, has done things to my heart that no self-respecting modernwoman should admit to feeling about a possessive dire wolf leaving offerings on her porch.

“Get it together,” I mutter, pacing the cabin’s small living room. “You came here to heal from relationship trauma, not jump straight into monster polyamory.”

But my vagina clearly didn’t get the memo.

The truth is, I’ve felt more alive in these few weeks with my three monstrous suitors than I did in the last year with my ex.

I’m more seen. More wanted.

This situation may be unconventional to the extreme, but our connections are undeniably genuine.

No pretense. No games. Just raw, honest desire and… care? Interest? Something deeper than just monstrous lust, though there’s plenty of that too.

I pause at the window, looking at the lake shimmering in the evening light, the forest darkening at its edges. They’re out there, respecting my request for space, probably circling the cabin like overprotective guard dogs.

The thought makes me smile despite myself.

What would my therapist say? Probably something about “unhealthy coping mechanisms” and “overcompensating in the worst way possible.” But my therapist doesn’t know what it feels like to be kissed underwater by a kraken, have a forest troll look at you like you’re the sun after centuries of darkness, or be the focus of a dire wolf’s unwavering protective instinct.

She always said I needed to put myself first. I don't think she meant “become the center of a monster harem,” but technically, I'm following her advice.

A quiet shift happens inside me, subtle but undeniable; I don’t want to fight this anymore. I don’t want to pretend I’m not drawn to all three for different but equally powerful reasons.

I don’t want to choose, and maybe… like Oren said, I don’t have to.

“This is crazy,” I say to the empty cabin, but the words have lost their conviction. Instead, there’s a growing sense of… liberation?

The rules don’t apply here.

The normal societal expectations, the typical relationship structures—none of that matters in this strange little pocket of the world where monsters exist and apparently find slightly traumatized human women irresistible.

I grab my phone, checking the time. 7:30 PM. Still early enough.

“Okay,” I decide, suddenly energized. “If we’re doing this, we’re doing it on my terms.”

I gather supplies from the cabin—matches, a bundle of firewood, a bag of marshmallows I’d brought for solo s’mores therapy sessions, and a blanket big enough to accommodate four. With determined steps, I head outside to the clearing between the cabin and the lake shore.

It doesn’t take long to arrange a proper campfire circle, with rocks from the shore and the firewood stacked in a neat cone. I’m no wilderness expert, but I’ve been on enough camping trips to manage the basics. Once the fire is crackling cheerfully, I spread the blanket nearby and sit, waiting.

I don’t have to wait long.

Kaelen emerges first from the tree line, his massive form silhouetted against the darkening forest. He approaches cautiously, his head tilted in question.

“It’s okay,” I call to him. “You can come closer. All of you can,” I add, raising my voice slightly, knowing the others are watching too.

The lake's surface ripples as Caspian rises, water streaming from his shoulders, his tentacles just beneath the surface. He moves toward shore, and his tentacles shift into legs as he does.Gloriously naked, he wraps himself at the waist with one of the towels I left drying on the deck.