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Free?
Wren had been through a lot in his life. He’d hurt countless wolves. Countless. He’d been stuck in the same routine of fighting and fear for so long that he’d forgotten what the fresh fear of a brand new situation felt like. The market hadn’t even scared him. He knew what was going to happen. He’d be purchased by a different owner who would run him in the fights again.
It hadn’t happened. He never thought it would be scarier to go to someone who wasn’t actively hurting him.
He had no control over the whine that left his throat. The first touch, the bending of his fur, he was prepared for pain. Jackson hadn’t hurt him so far. He hadn’t given a single indication of getting enjoyment out of other’s pain. Wren tried to remember that. Jackson’s touch wasn’t forced. Jackson’s touch wasn’t a precursor to pain.
So far.
Wren held out as long as he could. Every absence of the hand,
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