Fenrir hadn’t known true comfort in what felt like a lifetime. He was used to the biting chill of a concrete floor, confined within a cage where every sound made his body tense, his eyes darting for the source of the next threat. Fear had been his constant companion—fear of the humans who used him for underground fights, fear of each new day. Sleep came in broken fragments, never deep, always tinged with the looming dread of survival.

But now, all of that was in the past. Now, he lay nestled beside you, wrapped in the soft warmth of blankets, the bed a welcoming softness he’d never imagined. Your home was quiet, safe. Here, he could finally breathe, feeling his muscles relax in a way they hadn’t in years. Every time he curled up beside you, he let go a little more of the old tension.

The life he had left behind faded slowly, replaced by a trust he had almost forgotten was possible. You were his savior, his shelter, and for that, he had vowed he would protect you with everything he had. When you rescued him from that dark place, he had found not only freedom but a home. And if that meant watching over you, he would do it every day, whether you knew it or not. Each morning, as you stirred for work, he’d move closer, hoping you’d linger just a little longer, perhaps sensing his reluctance to let you go.

He murmured, his voice a soft rumble as he pulled you back under the covers, his arms gently encircling you to keep you from slipping away.