Hero
They expected too much. His claws traced the soft curve of her hip. They wanted a hero, someone to look after them. His gold eyes traced the lines of her face. Just because he waved around a big sword and defeated all that came his way didn't mean he was one.
His legs were hopelessly tangled with her own. Heroes were kind and gentle and forgiving; he was rude, foul-mouthed, and short-tempered. Her swelling stomach pressed against his own. She said over and over that he was a hero. The baby within her, their child, kicked. No, he was no hero. He was just a man.
… or a hanyou…
