Chapter 39
Mine
Fenrir Thorsson
The world has narrowed to a single point of impossibility. Astrid, alive and breathing in my arms. Her scent fills my lungs—familiar yet changed, the clean human notes now interwoven with something wild. Wolf. She is one of us.
The beast inside me howls in triumph, recognizing its mate in a way it never fully could before. We are the same now. Equal.
"Come," I manage.
She shivers slightly in the cooling mountain air, reminding me of our mutual nakedness. I’m very appreciative of the sight of her bare skin in the fading light, but right now all I can think about is getting her somewhere safe and warm… so that I can fully appreciate her.
"There’s a hunter’s den not far," I say, reluctantly releasing her but keeping one hand on the small of her back, unwilling to break contact completely. I fear if I stop touching her, she'll vanish again.
We walk in silence through the deepening twilight, fallen pine needles soft beneath our bare feet.
My mind reels, unable to fully grasp the miracle beside me.
I felt the moment her heart stopped. The agony of losing her hollowed me out completely.
Now she walks beside me, warm and breathing, and so much more.
Part of me fears this is merely a cruel dream.
That I'll blink and find myself alone again, howling my grief to an indifferent moon.
I steal glances at her profile, memorizing every detail as if she might vanish at any moment.
The wolf in me, typically so sure in its instincts, seems equally stunned, oscillating between disbelief and fierce joy.
"So," Astrid says finally, "you've been what… just roaming around as a wolf this whole time?" Her tone is casual, but I hear the undercurrent of concern.
"The wolf is my base," I answer. "He is simpler. Instinctual. Without you holding me as a man, I had nothing left."
She nods, understanding in her eyes.
The small cabin appears between the trees, a hunter's shelter.
A stone chimney and sturdy walls to keep out the mountain chill and animals.
These woodland refuges follow ancient codes—take what you need, replace what you can.
I know we'll find basic supplies, perhaps dried food, definitely firewood.
"It's not much," I say, pushing open the wooden door that creaks in protest.
"It has walls and a roof and fireplace," Astrid replies pragmatically. "That's already better than the alternative."
The interior is spare. A hearth with stacked firewood beside it, a rough-hewn table with two chairs, a trunk pushed against the wall. No bed, just the hard wooden floor and whatever comforts can be pulled from storage.
"Wait here," I tell her, moving to the trunk and retrieving a wool blanket that I wrap around her shoulders. Our fingers brush as she takes it, and the current between us surges, making us both inhale sharply.
"Thanks," she murmurs, clutching the edges of the blanket together at her throat.
I busy myself with lighting the fire, grateful for the simple task to occupy my hands. The kindling catches quickly, and soon flames dance in the hearth, casting golden light across the cabin's interior.
When I turn back to her, she's seated on the floor near the growing warmth, blanket wrapped around her shoulders like a cloak. The firelight catches her features, highlighting the determined set of her jaw and the questioning look in her eyes.
I retrieve another blanket and wrap it around my waist before opening the trunk again, pulling out several thick furs and laying them on the floor to create a makeshift bed.
My hands tremble slightly as I work, the reality of her presence still overwhelming my senses.
Each mundane task feels surreal. I thought my mate was dead…
The wolf in me paces restlessly beneath my skin, desperate to keep her close, to confirm with every heartbeat that she is truly here.
Next come more blankets, and finally, I extract some dried meat and a water skin.
My mind circles the same impossible truth.
She died. I heard her last heartbeat. Yet here she sits.
Breathing. Heart beating. Questions crowd my thoughts, but I push them aside, focusing on her immediate needs while I struggle to process the miracle before me.
"Hungry?" I ask, offering her a piece of jerky and taking a seat next to her on the floor in front of the fireplace. My eyes never leave her face, drinking in every familiar feature as if to reassure myself she won't vanish if I look away.
"Starving, actually." Her voice—that voice I thought silenced forever—sends a fresh wave of wonder through me.
I can no longer contain the question that burns brightest. "How?" The word emerges as little more than a whisper, raw with emotion. "How are you here, Astrid?"
She holds my gaze steadily. "Your grandfather. He merged my soul with a wolf and brought me back." Her hand moves to just below her collarbone, drawing my attention to the faint luminescent glow beneath her skin.
My soul shard burns brightly within her. It’s not gone.
I lean toward her and reach out, my fingertips hovering just above the glow she can’t see. "A piece of my soul lives inside you,” I say, my voice barely audible over the crackling fire. “I think it’s why you had the abilities you did even as a human.”
My fingers touch the spot, and power surges between us like a breaking dam. Everything disappears, and for one breathless moment, I only feel her. See her. Smell her. Hear her heartbeat racing in her chest.
“Can you feel it?”
She nods. "Yes, Fen. I think I’ve always felt it, I just didn’t know what it was."
I've moved closer, one hand now cradling the back of her neck, our foreheads nearly touching. “Do you regret it? Resent it?”
“No. Never,” she answers softly.
"You came back," I whisper, still unable to fully believe it. "You came back to me."
"I did," she says, and there's a vulnerability in her voice I've never heard before. "Though technically, your grandfather didn't give me much choice. He just merged me with this bossy wolf and pointed me in your direction."
A broken laugh escapes me.
Her eyes search mine, and I see the questions there. So many questions. But right now, all I can focus on is her mouth, so close to mine. The wolf in me howls its demand, clawing at my restraint.
"Astrid."
She answers by closing the distance between us, her lips meeting mine with a hunger that matches the desperation building in my chest. The kiss is not gentle. It's claiming and being claimed, a reaffirmation of life after too much death.
Her directness has always undone me. I deepen the kiss, pouring everything I can't yet say into the contact. Her arms wrap around my shoulders, pulling me closer as she falls back onto the furs I've laid out, taking me with her.
The kiss transforms from desperate reunion to something more elemental.
My hands frame her face, thumbs tracing the curve of her cheekbones before sliding into her hair, cradling her head as I claim her mouth completely.
Her lips part beneath mine, her tongue meeting mine in a dance that sends fire racing through my veins.
Each taste of her is an intoxication, a confirmation that this miracle is real—her warmth, her passion, her life restored to me.
"I thought I'd lost you forever," I murmur against her lips, the confession torn from somewhere deep within me. "I felt you grow so cold in my arms."
"I'm here now," she whispers back, her breath warm against my skin. "I'm real."
To prove it, she takes my hand and places it over her heart. The steady rhythm beneath my palm is the most beautiful thing I've ever felt—life where there had been death, hope where there had been only emptiness.
"Feel that," she says, her eyes holding mine with fierce intensity. "I'm alive, Fen."
Something breaks open inside me at her words, releasing a flood of emotions I've been holding at bay. Relief, joy, and bone-deep need crash through me in a single overwhelming wave.
I surge forward, claiming her lips with a ferocity that comes from centuries of longing compressed into days of unbearable loss. My mouth finds hers not just with hunger, but with the raw certainty of a predator reclaiming what was nearly stolen from him.
She responds in kind, her body arching into mine, the blanket falling away completely. The firelight bathes her naked skin in golden warmth, highlighting every curve and valley.
I devour her with my eyes, memorizing every inch of her. The smooth plane of her stomach, the gentle swell of her breasts, the elegant line of her throat. My breath catches as the amber light plays across her skin, illuminating her like a vision from some half-remembered dream.
Her hands move to my chest, pushing me back slightly so she can see me too.
Her dark eyes meet mine, and I catch my breath at the sight.
Her irises are now rimmed with the telltale golden glow of a wolf.
The transformation is subtle but undeniable, this physical evidence of her changed nature sending a jolt of visceral satisfaction through both man and beast within me.
Her gaze rakes over me with unmistakable yearning. The blanket around my waist loosens, and she makes no move to adjust it.
"I missed you," she murmurs, the quiet admission carrying more weight than elaborate declarations. Her fingers trace the lines of muscle across my abdomen, each touch igniting my skin, sending shivers cascading through me.
"And I you," I reply. "More than I have words for."
My lips find her throat, tracing the delicate skin there.
I can feel her pulse beneath my mouth, the rhythm quickening as I move lower.
My teeth graze her collarbone, not quite biting, but hinting at what's to come.
She gasps, her fingers tightening in my hair.
A low moan escapes sends heat pooling low in my belly.