Chapter 38
Come Back To Me
Astrid Mathieson
My paws dig into the mountain soil as I climb higher, following the scent that grows stronger with every breath.
This wolf body moves with an ability that's almost intoxicating after a lifetime of human limitations, leaping over fallen logs and navigating rocky terrain like it’s a paved pathway in a park.
The forest thickens around me, ancient pines stretching toward a sky that's beginning to bleed from blue to orange.
I've been tracking him for what seems like hours, climbing steadily since leaving the golden city behind.
My muscles should be screaming, but this wolf form seems built for endurance.
At least that's one perk of my unwanted roommate.
Close now, the wolf thinks. Not a separate voice anymore, but merged with me in a way I still find deeply unsettling. Like having someone else's thoughts running alongside my own. Someone wild and primal who sees the world in terms of scents and instincts.
Mate near. Water-place ahead.
The distant sound of falling water reaches my ears, sharper and clearer than they ever were when I was just human. I slow down, approaching the edge of a small clearing with caution. Frigga's warning echoes in my mind: "He may not believe it is truly you at first."
No shit. He watched me die. I wouldn’t believe me either, but the stubborn part of me hopes that whatever this connection between us is, it'll be enough to convince him.
My wolf senses pick up every detail. The moist earth beneath my paws, the scent of pine sap and wildflowers, the cool mist hanging in the air. A waterfall cascades down moss-covered rocks into a clear pool, catching the last golden rays of daylight that slice through the trees like spotlights.
I hesitate at the clearing's edge, suddenly uncertain. What if this connection, this "mate bond" the wolf keeps insisting on, isn't enough? What if he sees me as nothing but another cruel trick of this realm?
I push the doubt away. I didn't come back from death to lose my nerve now.
And there he is—a massive black and silver wolf standing atop the waterfall like some figurehead on a ship. He's enormous, the size of a small truck. His fur gleams with subtle silver highlights where the fading sunlight catches it.
The electrical sensation I've grown familiar with buzzes beneath my fur like I've touched a live wire.
My heart lurches painfully in my chest, a complicated tangle of relief, fear, and something deeper I'm not ready to name.
I hate how much I've missed him, how desperate I've been to find him again. The wolf inside me howls with triumph and recognition, but the human part feels suddenly vulnerable.
Fen's wolf looks down at me, his golden eyes glowing with heat and pain.
There's no recognition in that gaze—only the wild, wounded stare of a predator who's been running too long from something it can't escape.
He snarls and snaps, showing his mouth full of giant teeth, a warning that needs no translation.
Stay back.
My stomach drops like I've missed a step on a staircase.
After everything. After dying, coming back, tracking him across a mountain…
The rejection cuts deeper than I want to admit, even to myself.
Part of me wants to snarl right back at him, to channel the hurt into something safer like anger.
Instead, I swallow hard against the tightness in my throat.
So much for true love conquering all, I think bitterly, even as I steel myself for what comes next. Recognition or not, I didn't come all this way to turn back now. If I have to remind him who I am the hard way, so be it.
Think human, my wolf guides. Fingers. Skin.
Got it, I mutter internally.
I plant my paws firmly in the center of the clearing, meeting his golden gaze head-on. If he doesn't recognize me as a wolf, I'll just have to show him who I am.
Here goes nothing.
I hold my position, refusing to back down or break eye contact as I begin the shift. The transformation isn't as bad as the first one, but my bones still crack, my muscles still stretch, and fur receding into skin is one of the weirdest sensations I've ever felt.
I force myself to remain standing as long as possible before my reforming human legs give out. When it's done, I'm on all fours in the middle of the clearing, naked and swearing under my breath.
"Fuck," I hiss. "That hurt."
But I didn't hide. I didn't retreat. If Fen really wants to reject me, he'll have to do it to my face—my human face—not to some wolf he doesn't recognize.
Submit, the wolf whispers.
"Submit?" I look up to where Fen had been standing. He's gone. Great. I rise to my feet, acutely aware of my nakedness and vulnerability. The mountain air chills my bare skin, raising goosebumps across my arms and shoulders.
Then a low, menacing growl sounds behind me.
The hair on the back of my neck stands up. I turn slowly, careful not to make any sudden movements. He moves with lethal grace, each step deliberate, his massive head lowered and hackles raised. His teeth are bared in a snarl that would make most people piss themselves.
He can see me now. He should recognize me. But there's no hint of Fen in those savage golden eyes—only the wolf, and it sees me as an intruder. A threat.
Fuck.
My wolf stirs beneath my skin, more insistent now. Submit.
"Fen," I say, keeping my voice steady as I stand my ground. "It's me. It's Astrid."
The growl deepens, rumbling through the clearing like distant thunder. The sound vibrates in my chest. He takes a step forward, then another. His eyes never leave mine. Predator assessing prey.
"I didn't come back from the dead to have you ignore me, Viking," I say, injecting as much attitude as possible into the words.
His ears flick forward at that, a moment of hesitation, but his stance remains aggressive. Something flickers in those golden eyes. Confusion, perhaps. Recognition struggling against instinct.
It's still not enough. Whatever part of him might know me is buried too deep.
He charges.
Time slows as the massive wolf lunges toward me, a blur of muscle and fury. Every brain cell screams at me to run, to dodge, to shift back into my wolf. My heart hammers against my ribs, adrenaline flooding my system.
Submit. Show neck. NOW.
"Fuck it!" I drop to my knees. I lower my head, exposing my neck, the ultimate gesture of trust according to the frantic wolf in my head. It feels completely wrong, but I hold the vulnerable position. My hands tremble where they rest on my bare thighs, but I don't move.
"It's me, Fen," I say through gritted teeth. "Your grandfather brought me back and stuck me with a wolf somehow. I don't understand any of this and I need you to come back to me."
The impact never comes.
I look up to find Fen looming over me, massive paws planted on either side of me, teeth inches from my throat. A tremor runs through his powerful frame as golden eyes study me with savage intensity. His breath is hot against my skin.
My breathing comes in short, controlled bursts as I fight to keep my expression steady, refusing to let him see how terrified I am—not of him, but of the possibility that he might never remember me. That I might have come back from death only to lose him anyway.
For several heartbeats, we remain frozen.
The current between us pulses, growing stronger with each passing second.
Then he circles me, his massive body making me feel smaller than I've ever felt, nostrils flaring as he takes in my scent.
The low growl never quite stops, vibrating in the air between us like distant thunder.
"Look, I died. You watched it happen. I get why you don't believe I'm real." I swallow hard. "But I'm here, Fen. This thing between us? It's stronger now than ever, and I know you can feel it too. You're my mate, whatever that means. I need you to come back. Please."
The word please feels foreign on my tongue. I'm not one for begging. But for him, I'll swallow my pride.
He stops circling, standing before me again. His eyes hold a storm of rage and grief. And beneath it all, a desperate flicker of hope. His ears twitch forward, then back, uncertainty in every line of his powerful body.
Slowly, I extend my hand, palm up, offering what the wolf in me insists is the right gesture. "You're not the only one with a wolf now, Viking."
For a long moment, nothing happens. Then, with a sound like surrender, he presses his muzzle against my palm.
The electrical current explodes between us, a surge of power that steals my breath.
The massive wolf shudders, pressing more firmly against my hand.
I move slowly, bringing my other hand up to touch the soft fur behind his ears.
"Your grandfather gave me a wolf to find you," I tell him, still kneeling on the forest floor. "She's bossy as hell, by the way. Keeps calling you mate." I try for humor, but my voice catches. "Frigga said you needed me. Said the only way to bring you back was for me to find you."
Fen whines softly, the sound so full of pain it makes my chest ache despite my attempt to keep things light. His gaze never leaves my face, searching for something. Confirmation, perhaps, that I'm real and not some cruel hallucination born of grief.
"I'm still figuring out this whole wolf thing," I continue, needing to fill the silence with words. "I've killed lots of plants now and destroyed a wardrobe back in your palace. But I shifted for you." I let out a short, humorless laugh. "Twice now. You'd better appreciate it."
My hands continue their gentle exploration of his fur, feeling the powerful muscles beneath, the steady rhythm of his breaths.
The electrical sensation between us hums, steady and strong now. I feel the conflict within him. The wolf that wants to believe and the man afraid to hope.
"Come back to me, Fen," I beg.
A shudder runs through his massive frame, golden eyes closing as if in pain. Then I feel a shift in the energy between us, a subtle change in the air like the pressure drop before a storm.
The transformation begins. Fur recedes into skin. Bones crack and reform. The massive wolf form gives way to the man.
I watch, unable to look away, as muscles ripple and reshape beneath skin that appears like water rising to the surface. It's beautiful and terrifying all at once.
When it's done, Fen kneels before me, naked and breathing hard, sweat glistening on skin that moments ago had been covered in fur.
My vision blurs with tears I refuse to let fall, and my hands tremble with the force of everything I'm feeling.
Relief crashes through me, leaving me light-headed and raw.
I want to touch him, to make sure he's real, that we're both real and somehow here together again despite death and magick and everything that's happened.
His eyes, still that molten gold, find mine. "Astrid?" he whispers, standing from the ground and reaching out with trembling fingers to touch my face as if I might disappear at any moment. "Is it really you?"
I lean into his touch, his fingers warm against my skin. "Yeah, it's me. Apparently death doesn't always stick in your world."
A broken sound escapes him, something between a laugh and a sob. He pulls me into his arms with desperate strength, burying his face in my hair. His body trembles against mine.
"I felt you die," he murmurs against my neck.
"I know," I say, my own arms wrapping around him, holding him together as something breaks open inside him. My fingers trace the familiar contours of his back, the solid reality of him anchoring me as much as I anchor him. "But I'm here now. And I have questions. A lot of them."
The faintest ghost of a smile touches his lips. "I wouldn't expect anything less." His hand cups my cheek, thumb tracing my jawline in a way that makes my heart do stupid things in my chest. "But they can wait until morning."
His eyes drink me in, cataloging every detail as if committing me to memory all over again. The intensity of his gaze makes me acutely aware of our mutual nakedness, but there's no pressure in it, just awe mixed with disbelief.
"Just so we're clear," I say, pulling back slightly to look at him, "I'm not sleeping naked in the woods."
This time his laugh is real, if still a little broken around the edges. "I know a place nearby where we can stay."
"Thank god," I mutter, but I don't pull away from his arms. Not yet. Right now, I just need to feel him next to me.
I found him.