Chapter 13 She’ll Kill You
She’ll Kill You
Fenrir Thorsson
I burst through the palace doors with Cormac's limp body in my arms, his blood soaking through my shirt. Even with the siren's swift travel between realms, so many precious minutes have passed since the bullet tore through his flesh.
"Help!" The roar tears from my chest, echoing through the courtyard. My heart hammers against my ribs, not with exertion but with fear for my companion. "I need a healer!"
Guards rush forward, weapons drawn until they recognize me. Their eyes widen at Cormac's ashen face, at the crimson stain spreading across my makeshift bandage. The metallic tang of his blood makes my wolf thrash beneath my skin, hunting for escape, for vengeance.
"Lord Fenrir," one stammers, "what happened?"
"GUIDE happened." The name tastes like poison on my tongue. My canines lengthen involuntarily, puncturing my lower lip. "Where's Thalia? He needs help now."
I push past them, leaving bloody footprints across the pristine floor. Each red smear is a testament to my guilt. My fault. My obsession. My mate. The words pound in rhythm with my thundering pulse.
The scent hits me before I see her—mountain herbs and ancient magic. Lady Thalia emerges from the far corridor, her petite frame radiating authority. Silver hair flows down her back, catching the morning sunlight like polished steel. Her storm-gray eyes sweep over me, missing nothing.
"This way." Her voice carries centuries of command in two quiet words. She turns without waiting, expecting obedience.
"Fucking hold on," I murmur to Cormac, his blood sticky between my fingers. His eyelids flutter, consciousness slipping away like water through cupped hands. "We're almost there."
Memory flashes behind my eyes—Astrid's face when I transformed. Not just fear in those dark eyes, but recognition. The crack of her gun. Cormac shoving me aside. The bullet meant for me tearing through his shoulder instead, barely missing his heart.
And beneath it all, the shocking truth I've been avoiding since our escape… I didn't lose control around her. Despite the danger, despite her weapon, despite everything—the wolf stayed calm in her presence.
"In here." Thalia pushes open a set of ornate glass doors that lead into the solarium.
The space opens before us—glass ceiling revealing morning sky above, walls curved like embracing arms. At its center stands an ancient willowy tree with weeping white blossoms, its branches bending gracefully toward a carpet of emerald grass.
"Place him beneath the tree, against the trunk," Thalia instructs, already gathering supplies from a cabinet built into the wall.
I kneel and lay Cormac gently beneath the tree's boughs. His blood drips onto the perfect grass—crimson on green, life staining life.
"What happened?" Thalia kneels beside him. Her hands hover over the wound, already glowing with soft azure light of healing magick.
"GUIDE agent shot him." The words scrape my throat raw. My fingers curl into fists, claws threatening to emerge. "We found her—my mate—but she's one of them."
Thalia's eyes flick to mine, surprise rippling across her features before her mask of calm returns.
"This wound carries a different signature than typical GUIDE weapons," she says, frowning as her fingers probe the injury.
"We know they use controlled magick in their arsenal, but this.
.." Her brow furrows. "There's something unique about this particular agent's ammunition. It’s different from what I’ve seen before. "
She looks up at me, concern evident. "It's actively resisting my healing in a way standard GUIDE weapons don't. Almost like it's... alive."
The tree above us rustles without wind, blossoms releasing sweet fragrance that mingles with blood-scent. Thalia’s magick pulses in the air around us both.
I watch, trembling, unable to still the storm inside me. Astrid's scent. Astrid's eyes. Astrid's weapon aimed at my heart. The electric connection that hummed between us like a plucked bowstring. Even now, separated by worlds, I feel the pull of her soul like a hook lodged beneath my sternum.
"The projectile fragmented," Thalia murmurs, brow furrowed in concentration. "Earth's magick is fighting mine."
My claws dig into my palms, drawing blood that heals instantly. "Will he live?"
"Yes." She doesn't look up, fingers tracing blue light over torn flesh. "But healing him is impossible until I lure the fragments out. It will take time."
Relief crashes through me, followed immediately by despair. GUIDE. Hunters. Killers. And my mate is one of them. How do I court the enemy?
Yet even as frustration builds, I remember the moment our eyes locked across her mother's yard. The wolf inside me, usually clawing and snarling for control, had simply been at peace.
"My wolf let me be in control," I whisper, the revelation trembling through my bones like distant thunder.
Thalia looks up, her ancient eyes searching my face. "What did you say?"
"My mate," I explain, words tumbling out. "Even when she shot at me—the wolf was calm. I haven't had that during a shift in years."
Thalia's lips curve into a knowing smile. "The soul recognizes itself, Lord Fenrir. Even when divided."
She gestures to the tree trunk. "You should lean against it as well. Let Yggdrasil refill your magick. You're running low on energy as well."
I move to sit against the rippled bark. The effect is immediate—magick flowing into me, slower and warmer than the frantic energy of my wolf. It seeps into my bones, soothing away tensions I didn't realize I was carrying.
I close my eyes and tip my head back, allowing myself this moment of vulnerability. Each breath carries the sweet scent of blossoms, each exhale releases a fraction of the rage and frustration coiled within me.
For the first time in years, the wolf isn't clawing at my insides. No ambrosia-induced suppression, just... peace. Fragile. Likely temporary. But very real.
Behind closed eyelids, I see Astrid again—gun raised, eyes fierce, breath visible in the cave's chill. She'd thought I was going to kill her. But something in her eyes... not just fear, but recognition. She had faced me with a warrior's courage and a hunter's focus.
She was my other half in every way imaginable.
The solarium doors creak open. Arik strides in, posture tense, a weather-worn leather satchel clutched in one hand. His eyes dart to Cormac's prone form before settling on me.
"You look like shit," he says by way of greeting.
I snort, the familiar banter a welcome distraction from the war inside me. "You should see the mess we crawled out of."
"Heard you found your mate though." Arik steps closer, holding out the satchel. "Delivery from the sirens. Said you'd want this once you had Cormac in good hands." He bows to Thalia. "Healer Thalia, blessings on you."
She acknowledges him with a smile and continues working her fingers over Cormac's wound.
I take the leather bag. It's heavier than it looks, filled with papers and what feels like a small book.
I open the satchel, pulling out a thick folder. The first page shows a photograph of Astrid—dark hair pulled back, expression serious, dressed in black tactical gear with a pair of swords strapped across her back. A chill runs through me as I read the heading: GUIDE Elite Response Unit.
"She's not just GUIDE," Arik says quietly. "She's one of their Inquisitors. One of their best, apparently. They call her Blades."
I flip through pages—mission reports, kill counts, commendations. Each detail builds a picture of a deadly, efficient hunter of magickal beings. My mate. The carrier of my soul shard. The woman who holds my salvation in her veins is dedicated to destroying everything I am.
The irony would be amusing if it weren't so devastating.
"There's more," Arik continues, his voice grim. "The sirens have been monitoring GUIDE communications. After your encounter, her team has been permanently assigned to hunt the 'chimeras' in Europe."
"Chimeras?" My head snaps up, neck muscles tightening. "There are still chimeras on Earth?"
Arik nods, expression grave. "And that's not all. The team at the ranch says the Enclave now knows Astrid is your mate. They're moving people into position around her town. They think they will try to take her."
The wolf surges forward with such sudden violence that my bones crack. Fangs descend, nearly piercing my lower lip. Claws tear through fingertips. The taste of blood floods my mouth as I fight for control.
"Fuck." The word emerges as a growl, barely recognizable through half-transformed jaws.
Arik eyes me warily, one hand drifting toward the knife at his belt. "You need more time here. More ambrosia. You're not stable enough to—"
"No." The word snaps like a command. "I go back now."
"Fenrir," Thalia interjects, hands still pulsing blue light into Cormac's shoulder, "you're not thinking clearly. If you lose control again on Earth without cover—"
"I won't." My voice is steel, unyielding even to my own ears. "Not around her."
"She shot Cormac," Arik reminds me bluntly. "She'll probably shoot you too."
"No, she won't." I shake my head, staring down at her photograph.
Those fierce dark eyes that had locked with mine across her mother's yard.
The woman who carries a piece of my soul, who somehow kept my wolf calm despite everything.
Who had looked at my transformed state not with blind terror but with understanding.
"She's my mate," I say simply. "And right now, she's in danger because of me. Because I led enemies to her doorstep." My heart pounds with newfound purpose, each beat a declaration. "I need a siren to take me back to Earth. Today. The team at the ranch can find me another guide."
"And what exactly is your plan?" Thalia asks, looking up from Cormac. "Storm into a GUIDE agent's home and declare yourself her fated mate? Ask nicely if she'll give up hunting our kind and return to Avalon with you instead?"
"If necessary." I tuck the folder back into the satchel and sling it over my shoulder, decision made, path clear.
"She'll kill you," Arik says flatly.
"She might try." I grip the folder tightly, thinking of those fierce eyes that studied me in the cave.
"But there was a moment... when our eyes met, something passed between us.
She felt it too." I shake my head, struggling to articulate the connection that defies rational explanation.
"She had the perfect shot in that cave. Could have ended me right there. But she hesitated."
"One hesitation doesn't mean she won't pull the trigger next time," Arik counters.
"I know the risk," I admit. "But she carries my soul, Arik. And right now, she's in danger because of me. I can't walk away from that, even if it means facing her weapon again."
"Tell the ungrateful bastard..." A weak voice interrupts. "I'll be going back with him. There'll be no replacements."
I turn to find Cormac glaring at me, color returning to his face though Thalia's hands still pulse with healing magick above his wound.
"You were shot," I remind him, crossing my arms to hide my relief.
"And I'll take another if necessary to keep you alive," he says, wincing as he tries to sit up. "Though I'd prefer if that didn't happen."
I return to his side and kneel beside him, lowering my voice. "You don't have to do this. I can find another guide."
"And what? Miss seeing you court a woman who already tried to kill you once?" His eyes meet mine, serious beneath the joke. "We started this together. We'll finish it together."
"Overnight," Thalia interrupts, her small hands never ceasing their work. "I need you both here overnight."
I nod. "Very well. Then we return to Earth."
"And if the Enclave reaches her first?" Arik asks, concern sharpening his tone.
I feel the wolf rise within me—not with rage this time, but with cold, deadly purpose. For the first time in years, we are in perfect alignment. My fangs lengthen. My muscles coil. My blood sings with ancient instinct.
"Then they'll learn what it means to stand between a wolf and his mate."
I turn away, clasping the satchel of intelligence tightly. One night to prepare. One night to plan. One night before I return to claim what's mine.
Astrid Mathieson. GUIDE agent. Inquisitor. Hunter of my kind.
My soul. My salvation. My mate.
And gods help anyone who tries to take her from me.