My Second Chance Mate is a Barbarian (Sera and Fenris) novel Chapter 74

Sera

"What about you?" Fenris asked. He turned his head and looked at me. "What did you do when you were a child in the South? Before the political training started."

I thought about it. The memory of Valdris felt like a lifetime ago. It felt like another girl's life entirely.

"I hid," I said.

Fenris raised an eyebrow. "From what?"

"My tutors. My mother. The etiquette lessons," I answered. I pulled my knees up to my chest and wrapped my arms around my legs. "There was a small pantry right behind the main kitchens in the Blackwater palace. It smelled like yeast and burnt sugar. The cooks kept the sweet rolls there. I used to steal two of them, crawl behind the heavy flour sacks, and sit in the dark for hours."

"Just sitting in the dark?"

"It was the only place nobody expected anything from me," I explained. "I didn't have to sit up straight. I didn't have to lower my eyes. I just ate stolen bread and listened to the cooks yell at each other. It was peaceful."

Fenris stared at me. "That breeds weakness. A child should not have to hide in the flour to find peace. They should be taught to carve out their own space."

"Not everyone is born a wolf, Fenris," I argued, my tone sharpening. "In the South, if a girl tries to carve out her own space, they lock her in a tower until she learns how to apologize for existing. Hiding wasn't weakness. It was survival. It was the only way I could keep a piece of my mind for myself."

"And look where it got you," he countered bluntly. "Sold to a dead man and traded to a stranger."

"And look where your violence got you," I shot back immediately. I pointed at the white stone platform. "Sitting in the dirt, talking to a grave."

The words hung in the humid air. It was a brutal thing to say. I instantly regretted it.

Fenris didn't flinch. He didn't yell. He just looked back at the white stone. His jaw locked.

We fell into a heavy, suffocating silence. The only sound in the garden was the bubbling of the hot springs and the faint rustle of the leaves overhead.

I looked at him. I looked at the massive width of his shoulders and the dark, messy hair falling over his forehead.

My mind violently snapped back to the abandoned cabin in the woods.

The memory did not feel distant. It felt completely, physically present. The cabin smelled of damp pine, old dust. The fire popped loudly in the stone hearth. The heat hit my shivering skin. Fenris stood in the center of the small room. He unbuckled his heavy leather belt. The metal buckle hit the wooden floorboards with a loud smack. He pulled his ruined tunic over his head. He pushed his pants down.

He stood there completely naked.

The sheer size of him dominated the room. His chest was corded with thick, heavy muscle. Deep, jagged scars cut across his torso. His thick, heavy cock rested against his thighs, completely relaxed but terrifyingly large. I remembered the absolute panic in my chest. I remembered waiting for him to force my legs apart and rape me right there.

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