--- Cain's POV---

Knowing who he was did make him more intimidating. Before, I had suspected him to be a shifter of shorts, perhaps a werewolf. But not the Father of wolves. A being often seen as a God itself. I glanced at him, watching how he paced the library, eyes darting from door to door before flicking back to the books.

He was always on edge, expecting an attack any second. The slightest sound set him off, from distant footsteps a floor above us to the light twittering of birds darting past the window. Each sudden motion made him jolt and snarl under his breath, shoulder tensed and hunched.

And all I could do was watch sadly as he cycled through his emotions like a violent tornado, slowly ripping himself apart.

How much of those legends were lies? I might not be part of the Norse Pantheon but I knew enough of their lore to know that this being before me was supposed to bring the end of the world upon his escape.

According to legends, if Fenris were to escape from his prison deep in the bowls of the Earth, Ragnarök would commence. A war between Gods would start, ensuring the end of the world as we knew it.

Odin, Thor, Thyr, Loki, Fenris... they along with many, many others would fall in the gruesome battle and the Earth with all its Norse worshipers would be flooded, leaving only two alive.

But as I looked at Fenris, I couldn't imagine him start a war. He wasn't insane and foaming at the mouth, eager to rip apart anyone standing in his way, nor was he salivating for a fight. Hell, all he wanted was to be left alone, to hide from human contact and live his life as a wolf. My eyes darted to his wrists, the scars there thick and bulging from the skin.

I had caught some glimpses when he had his flashbacks. Even if he tried to block me from his mind as much as possible and repress the memories, he wasn't trained enough to keep an impenetrable wall up. I had witnessed his upbringing as a mortal, had felt how he truly loved his mortal family before it was revealed that Fenris himself was not one of them.

My knuckles drummed a beat on the wooden table as I observed the man, watching how he wandered through the room, eyes narrowing at the covers of the books, trying to read the titles and growling in annoyance when he failed.

A smile pulled at my lips; many of these books were written in forgotten languages, maps of eras long ago and scribes who have long since died. His fingers reached out, delicately tracing the letters curving along the spine, as if feeling them would make him understand the language.

For once, with his attention focused on something else, I could see him. I could catch a glimpse of the unguarded curiosity and awe as he glanced from book to book, language to language. In a way, it reminded me of a child discovering the world for the very first time.

Especially when he looked around the room at the common appliances spread throughout the house. I might not be too modern but Fenris seemed stumped at the electric lighting, head tilting at the feint buzzing sound when the lights jumped on.

And it ached so badly to see how sheltered Fenris truly was. He was no monster, if anything he was like a stray pet; lonely, wounded and longing for comfort but too terrified to approach. And for good reason too, if those scars and his demeanor had anything to say.

Nor could I forget the other memories I caught snippets from. Memories of darkness and cold, of pain and blood, whips, chains, torture, molestation...

I shivered in disgust and curled my nose at the thought. Of course Fenris wouldn't trust the gods, as they were the one who used and abused him. I suspected Odin wanted to train Fenris originally, to build a bond of trust and loyalty to him.

Odin himself had two pet wolves after all, Geri and Freki. The later was actually a reference to the man standing in front of me, somehow underlining the irony of the situation even more. Fenris wasn't abused because of a hatred of wolves, nor was Odin opposed of having wolves in his presence.

I hummed softly, leaning against a bookcase as I pondered on what the reason could be. Since Fenris wasn't an actual wolf, he posed more of a threat if he didn't align himself with the Pantheon, I guess.

If he became a loose cannon and lashed out, lives would be lost. A lot of them. But Fenris wasn't a violent man, even with what was done to him. His mannerisms were gentle and hesitant, hidden from view but still there.

I could see it in the way he barely touched the books, almost reverently brushing the spines, nudging open old scrolls with respect as his eyes skimmed over their contents.

But violence wasn't just an innate ability; it could be taught as well. Fenris would've been their ultimate weapon of destruction, if he heeled to his master's call. Whatever had happened, Odin's idea obviously failed and Fenris was bound.

I cleared my throat softly, yet it still caused Fenris to jolt and bare his teeth in defense. Instantly his features hardened as he turned his full attention to me, guard rising and muscles tensing. If he had been able to shift back, no doubt his hackles would've stood on end, snarls rumbling through the room in warning.

"Who did this to you?" I asked softly, hearing his breath stutter as his body flinched, anger burning in his eyes.

His lip curled, white teeth flashing in anger while he sneered. "What do you want from me?" He snapped, avoiding my question by presenting me with one of his own. A soft sigh escaped me but I understood perfectly why he reacted the way he did.

Gods have given him nothing but pain, betrayal and hatred. Everything Fenris did was scrutinized, warped and slapped back in his face until he eventually stopped caring. I could tell he didn't trust me for one second and would rather be anywhere else than here.

"All I want is for you to calm down Fenris. I know you think it means nothing, but you do have my word that you're safe here. Nobody will harm you in my realm. "He snorted at that and rolled his eyes. "Spare me your lies. The second that Odin and Thor come knocking at your door when they find out I'm here, you're telling me you're not gonna hand me over to them?"

Fenris sneered in sarcasm but paused as I calmly said, "That's exactly what I'm saying. I won't be the one to tell them you escaped nor will I hand you over when they find out where you are." I walked closer, slowly, not wanting him to feel like he was being trapped. "I just want to understand Fenris. All I have to go on is the legends they've told about you and I rather know the truth than try and build on lies."

He stayed silent at that, eyes distant as they looked through the windows. His hands reached up, unconsciously rubbing over his arms as if to comfort himself in a loose hug. I would've hugged him myself, if I didn't know he'd probably rip my arms off for even touching him in the first place.

Or at the very least lash out at me, thinking I might be trying to overpower him. I shuffled my weight in discomfort, remembering how he had frozen in my hold when I had to coil around him so we could change him to human.

There were too many bad memories trapped underneath his skin to distinguish a friendly touch from a hostile one. "Fenris..." I started softly, pausing as I didn't really know how to continue. I didn't want to pry and reveal horrid memories and have him relive them when he obviously wasn't ready.

"What are those legends you speak of?" Fenris asked softly, tone ice cold as his hands clenched tightly. I swallowed and walked past him, well aware of his eyes burning in my back. I flicked a book out of the shelf and let it fall open, searching for the story I needed to find before clearing my throat.

"Basically Ragnarök is a series of prophesied events, starting with Baldr's murder by Loki's hand. "I flicked my eyes to Fenris, who's brows arched in surprise at his father's name. "I can't say the reason to why your father murdered the God, but what happened, happened, and he was banished from the Norse pantheon, losing his status as Norse God completely. Most literature nowadays claim he is not even an Odin-son to begin with."

My finger traced over the worn letters as I explained, "Due to his betrayal and the murder that has been foretold, Odin gathered many soothsayers, mentalists and the like, to try and predict what could happen. One of them was able to predict a series of events that have all happened; starting with Baldr's murder, the creation of Vali to avenge Baldr and the humans starting to lose faith in their pantheon."

Fenris was quiet as I tapped on the page, "The next prophesy would be your imminent betrayal of the pantheon, which is why they bound you." He shook his head at that, eyes filled with anger yet fighting back tears.

"But I didn't even know of them in the first place! How could I destroy them if I believed them to be more powerful than I could ever be?! I revered them, worshiped them and saw them as family. They even treated me as family, until-" He paused, fingers touching his wrists as he no doubt remembered how he got bound.

I closed the book slowly, placing it down as I watched Fenris shake, his hair flashing between its chestnut to pure white, showing his internal struggle as well. "Who even predicted this? Maybe they were a fraud, making up lies and-"

"Freya... it was Freya who saw the future."

Fenris stilled and his shoulders drooped. He knew as well as I did that Odin's wife is a well renowned seer and her visions so far had never been wrong. Yet in my heart, I felt she was wrong of this. Perhaps in trying to avoid their destiny, the Norse Gods had instead rushed to meet it. It happened to many people, god and human alike.

"I... I don't." Fenris murmured, hugging himself as his shoulders drooped, eyes heavy lidded and damp with tears. "I don't want to cause the Norse any harm. All I want is to be left alone and I'll die happily if I never have to see any of them again."

I swallowed thickly, stepping closer and reaching out on reflex, only to pull my hand back at the last moment. The torment and pain in Fenris' eyes was too much to bear as he stood there, believed by an entire pantheon to be a murderous monster.

All I saw was a lost boy, wishing for comfort as he hugged himself in the middle of the room, attempting to disappear in thin air. "What have they done to you Fenris?" I wondered out loud, watching his eyes brim before the liquid spilled over his cheek in a crystal trail.

"I don't want to talk about it." He whispered, his voice hollow, broken and filled with such agony that I couldn't speak. Fear and pain filled my own chest and there were fragments, snippets of memories that flashed through his mind.

But enough that I didn't press on. I actually wished I hadn't asked because the truth was far worse than the beautiful lie they had woven around Fenris.

As horrible as it sounds, I'd rather believe the lie. And the sad thing about it?

So did Fenris.