Chapter 41
Time To Meet The Grandparents
Fen Thorsson
I wake to the warmth of Astrid's body pressed against mine, her back to my chest. Her sweet scent surrounds me. I breathe it in, letting it fill my lungs, committing it to memory.
My wolf prowls beneath my skin, satisfied yet restless. Mine. Ours. Finally.
When I trace a finger down the curve of her spine, she sighs in her sleep, shifting closer. Trust. After everything she's endured, she trusts me enough to sleep deeply, vulnerable. The warrior in me recognizes the gift that is. The wolf treasures it.
It's still difficult to believe that after centuries of searching, of feeling incomplete, she's here—my mate, claimed and bonded, curled against me as though she's always belonged there.
She has.
Approaching hoofbeats in the distance makes me tense. I pull Astrid closer and press my lips to her hair.
"What is it?" she murmurs, instantly alert despite having been asleep just moments ago.
"Someone's coming," I say, already sliding from beneath the furs. Time's up. Part of me knew they'd send someone eventually. I’m surprised they waited as long as they did. "On horseback."
Astrid sits up, the furs falling away to reveal the glorious expanse of her skin, marked in places by my mouth and hands. I can't help the surge of possessive pride.
"Are you expecting someone?" she asks.
"Likely someone from Odingard. From the palace." I move to the window, peering through the frost-rimmed glass. "Can you hear them? Focus. Your wolf should be able to."
Astrid is beside me in an instant, her naked body pressing against mine as she looks out. “I do, now that you pointed it out.”
"I'll handle whoever it is." I tell her, grabbing a fur and heading for the door.
She snorts, already reaching for one of the blankets. "This is a we style relationship."
“We selfishly don’t want anyone looking at our very satisfied mate,” I argue back.
The blush that creeps up her neck pleases me greatly, but the determination in her gaze doesn’t waver.
“Am I in danger?”
“No,” I say.
“Then I’m coming too,” she says, wrapping a blanket around her body.
I grin and nod. “Out we go then,” I grab a fur and wrap it around my waist before stepping outside first and holding the door for Astrid.
The rider crests the hill just as we position ourselves in front of the cabin. I relax slightly when I recognize the Valkyrie armor glinting in the early light, though I maintain my guard. Just because they're from Odingard doesn't mean the news is good.
"Prince Fenrir!" The young Valkyrie calls as she approaches, her horse's breath steaming in the cold air. She reins in, looking relieved at the sight of us. "My apologies for the intrusion, Your Highness."
“If they sent you all the way up the mountain it must be important,” I say.
Astrid stiffens beside me. "Wait—Prince? Actual prince." she whispers, turning to stare at me with narrowed eyes. “Are you a norse god too?”
"I’ll explain later," I murmur back.
"You're a prince!" Astrid presses, her voice low but insistent. "Were you planning to mention that at some point?"
"It wasn’t relevant," I reply under my breath.
She makes a small choking sound. "Not relevant? Your Highness?"
"It's just a title," I say, though we both know it's more than that.
The set of her jaw tells me this conversation is far from over, but she falls silent as I address the Valkyrie.
"Why were you sent to us?"
"The All-Mother sent me with urgent news. Queen Nimue of the Sirens has arrived at the palace of Odingard seeking you. There are... rumors off world spreading that your mate died."
Someone is speaking when they shouldn’t be…
Beside me, Astrid stiffens. I lean my shoulder into her, hoping to relieve some of the tension.
"Queen Nimue." I say the same slowly. "When did she arrive?"
My grandmother's message crystallizes in my mind. She's telling me what Nimue knows, what she's heard. Rumors. Not facts.
Clever.
Knowledge is power in the royal courts. And right now, we have more of it than the Siren Queen. Nimue came rushing to Asgard because she heard Astrid died.
“Has my grandmother told her anything about Astrid?”
“I don’t know, your Highness. I’m sorry.”
My mind races. The siren who carried Astrid to Odingard would’ve been the only one besides Cormac who knew how close to death Astrid had been. The information had to have come from her.
"You may go," I wave the Valkyrie off. “Thank you. We’ll get back to my grandmother before you do.”
She bows her head and turns the horse, heading away at a run.
I turn to Astrid. “We need to go down the mountain.”
“Who is Queen Nih-muh-way?”
The question is casual, but her eyes are sharp, calculating. She stands straighter now, her posture shifting subtly from relaxed lover to alert operative. She caught that it was a message too, not just a summons.
I can’t help the smile that creeps at the absolute slaughtering of the siren queen’s name, though. “It’s complicated.”
“Oh, no! That’s not going to—”
“Very very complicated.” I interrupted her.
“Something that I will need to explain over the course of many hours and will. But right now, we need to shift into our wolves and run. I need you to trust me, Astrid.” I step closer to her and brush a strand of dark hair from her cheek, tucking it gently behind her ear. “Can you do that, please?”
She peers up at me with the most beautiful dark eyes. All I want to do is drag her back into the hunter’s den and fuck her until we both fall asleep from exhaustion again.
"There's so much to tell you." I place my hands on her shoulders. "But first, the Sirens work with the Knights, supposedly. But there are those among her people who have betrayed their queen or been forced to work against her."
Astrid processes this, her sharp mind already calculating implications. "So you’re not sure if you can trust Nimue."
"Correct," I confirm. "She may genuinely be concerned about hearing that you almost died.”
“Did die.”
“Right, did die. Which is a fact I’d rather forget if possible.” I shake off the memory of listening to her heart stop.
“But then I wouldn’t have a wolf.” Astrid grins and strokes a fingertip down my cheek. “And I’m starting to be rather fond of her. And she’s very fond of you.”
“You are not helping.” I grab Astrid’s hand and kiss her palm. "We need to go. So call that naughty wolf up and let her stretch.”
I kiss her mouth and back away, before she can try for more. I roll my shoulders and let my wolf rise to the surface.
There's no struggle this time, no battle for control.
The change is smooth, practiced—bones shifting, muscles realigning, fur sprouting across my skin.
For the first time in years, the transformation feels like partnership instead of surrender.
In seconds, I stand before her in my wolf form, power flowing through me without the usual chaos.
“Totally not fair. I’m still new at this.” Astrid stares, something like wonder crossing her features. "You're beautiful, you know," she whispers.
I move toward her, pressing my muzzle against her hand. She strokes my fur, digging her fingers in deep.
Feels so good, my wolf almost purrs.
"I'm not sure I can do this," she admits. "And I need you to run a distance away from me so I don't hurt you. My magick is tainted, remember."
I trot away reluctantly, quickly putting several dozen yards between us. Then turn and keep my eyes fixed on her.
She closes her eyes, concentrating. For a moment, nothing happens.
Then I feel it through our bond… her wolf rising.
The grass around her feet withers, blackness spreads in a perfect circle.
Small plants blacken and crumble as her power draws life from everything nearby.
Fuck. We’ve got to find a way to fix this.
Her transformation is less smooth than mine, her body fighting the change slightly, but within moments, a sleek gray and white wolf stands where my mate was, shaking herself as if adjusting to the new form.
Pride surges through me. She's magnificent. Beautiful, I send through our bond.
She sends back tentative excitement, tinged with concern as she notices the destruction around her. I feel her guilt ripple through our connection.
Not your fault, I reassure her. We’ll manage it until we can fix it.
She dips her head in acknowledgment, then lifts it with determination, her wolf's eyes bright with new resolve.
Follow, I tell her, turning toward the forest path. Stay close.
I set off at an easy lope, keeping my pace measured until I'm sure she's following. A few moments later, she’s running in stride beside me.
For a brief time, the concerns about Nimue and politics fall away. There is only this—the forest, the run, our bond and shared exhilaration.
We run for hours, the landscape changing as we approach Odingard. Small settlements appear, the market, then the great gates of Odingard’s Palace. Home.
The sentries atop the wall spot us immediately. I see them straighten and hear them shout to open the gates. The smaller side gate begins to open as we reach the base of the walls.
Astrid follows my lead, and through the gate. She presses closer to my side as we navigate the courtyard. I lead us through gardens and inner courtyards, heading for a private entrance I've used since childhood.
In a secluded courtyard blooming with my grandmother's favorite winter roses, I pause. We shift here, I communicate to Astrid. My grandmother will have clothes waiting.
I don't know if I can shift, her anxiety spikes through our bond. And the people. You’re too close. They all are.
Before I can respond, the courtyard door opens. Frigga glides toward us, her hands raised. "Wait," my grandmother commands, her voice gentle but firm. Golden light flows from her palms, creating a translucent dome around Astrid. "This will protect everyone, child. You can shift now."
Feel our connection, I encourage through our bond. Watch me, then follow.