Chapter 44
True Love’s Kiss
Fenrir Thorsson
"You have a lot more explaining to do, Fen," Astrid says as I usher her down the spiral staircase ahead of me.
"I know, my sweet mate. I know."
Her words are an understatement. The events in the tower—her name appearing on a chair at the Round Table, the pieces of Excalibur joining at her touch, the strengthening of the imprisoned queen's presence—have changed everything.
Again.
As we descend the winding steps, my thoughts race. The Table has chosen her. Not just as my mate, but as a Knight. Pride mingles with fear in my chest. Fear for what this means for our future.
My hand rests at the small of her back as we navigate the narrow stairs. Such a simple touch, yet it grounds me in a way nothing else has for centuries. My wolf stirs contentedly, reveling in her closeness, her scent, the steady rhythm of her heartbeat. Safe. She's safe. For now.
I love her. By the gods, I love her so completely.
The realization isn't new. It's been growing since the moment I first saw her on earth.
I love Astrid Mathieson. Love her courage, her determination, her fierce loyalty.
Love the way she adapts to each new revelation without breaking.
Love how my soul recognizes hers, two broken pieces finally made whole.
Yet I haven't told her. Haven't spoken those words aloud, though they burn in my throat whenever I look at her. Five centuries of existence, and I find myself tongue-tied like a youth in the throes of first infatuation.
We reach the bottom of the staircase, stepping into a wide corridor lit by floating orbs of Fae light.
I open my mouth to suggest we find a moment alone, away from everyone, when a wiry man with salt-and-pepper hair strides toward us, his face set in lines of irritation.
Toran. Ares’ guide. I look behind him for the elusive God of War, but don’t see him.
"Finally, someone I recognize," the man says, his gaze fixing on me. "You're one of the Knights, right? Thorsson?"
“Yes," I say, positioning myself slightly in front of Astrid.
The man sighs, running a hand through his disheveled hair. "You know I'm Ares' guide, or I was until that bastard abandoned me in the Garden of Hesperides with Ladon and another dragon made of lotus flowers. I've been asleep for almost nine weeks."
"Toran?" Hawke's voice comes from behind us as he approaches along with Wraith and Boaz. "Where's Ares?"
Toran scowls, crossing his arms over his chest. "That's a great fucking question. He tossed me up in the Garden with the dragons and I've been asleep for almost nine weeks."
Boaz lets out a bark of laughter. "He left you with Petals? She likes to sleep with visitors."
"Not funny," Toran snaps. "Someone finally found me and pulled me out of there and woke me up, thank the gods. But not before I lost two months of my life to a goddamn flower dragon's nap time."
Wraith's shoulders shake. "At least you got some rest?"
"Rest?" Toran’s eyes widen comically. "There was no rest. Have you forgotten what lotus pollen does to a person?"
Even Hawke cracks a smile at that. "Could have been worse. Ladon could have eaten you instead."
"I would have preferred it," Toran mutters. “I’m exhausted.”
"What does it do?" Astrid leans toward me.
I smile and whisper in her ear. "He had sex dreams. Lotus is a very potent aphrodisiac. But being exposed to that much of it. It would've been... a lot."
She covers her mouth and bites back a laugh.
"So where do you think Ares is?" Wraith asks, stepping forward.
"He's likely in back in Sevastopol, Russia." Toran pauses, clearly savoring the moment. "You know he found his mate... months ago, apparently."
“We knew he’d found her, and that she’d told him to leave her alone, but he didn’t share where he was.” Hawke says.
"And why the hell did he purposefully dump his guide with Petals after he found her?" Wraith adds, his yellow eyes narrowing in suspicion.
Toran shrugs. "All excellent questions that I'd very much like answered myself."
"What if he lost control?" Boaz suggests, his voice softening. "Maybe he thought he was protecting Toran by keeping him away."
Hawke's expression darkens. "If he's lost control in a human city..."
"Sevastopol?" Astrid interjects, her brow furrowing. "That's Russian mafia territory. That city is a literal powder keg of problems. What exactly does Ares do when he loses control?" she asks, looking between us. "What's his... darkness?"
Wraith's yellow eyes meet mine briefly before he turns to Astrid. "Rage. He amplifies anger, violence. Makes people around him lose their rational thought, act on their basest instincts."
Astrid's face pales slightly. “That city will self-destruct. It’ll be a bloodbath.”
"We need to contact Maven at the ranch," I say, looking at the others. "Find out what she knows, do some reconnaissance before anyone goes rushing off to Russia."
Hawke nods in agreement. "Yes, absolutely."
"I'll take Toran to get some food and proper rest," Boaz offers. "He looks like he's about to fall over."
"Thank you, Lord Magra," Toran says, the fight seemingly draining from him.
As they move away, I notice Astrid watching me, her expression thoughtful. "Let's go somewhere quieter," I suggest, taking her hand. "There's a courtyard not far from here."
She nods, allowing me to lead her through a series of hallways until we reach a small, secluded garden enclosed by stone walls. A single bench sits beneath an ancient oak tree, its branches creating a canopy of golden-red leaves above us.
We sit side by side and for a moment, we simply breathe, taking in the relative peace of this place after the chaos of the tower and Toran’s unexpected appearance and revelation.
"What do you think it means?" Astrid finally asks. "About Ares?"
"I don't know," I admit. “But Ares doesn’t like rules. It’s a thing. So I’m actually not that surprised that he dumped Toran."
"You think something's wrong, though."
"I think… he wants to do this his way. I think he is likely struggling and he doesn’t like to ask for help. His darkness affects other people instead of himself, so he’s not as aware of it."
Astrid turns to face me fully. "You think he might have lost control with her."
I shake my head slowly. "No. That is not something I would fear. He would die first."
“What else worries you? It’s the chair thing, isn’t it. The Table chose me for something,” Astrid asks, somehow nailing exactly what’s bothering me.
"Yes." I lift our joined hands, pressing a kiss to her knuckles. "That," I agree, "and everything it means."
“It’s a lot… yeah.” She exhales slowly, her shoulders dropping with the released breath. "Honestly? I'm terrified. For us. For everyone." Her voice drops lower. "I felt her, Fen. The queen. When I touched the sword… I felt her pushing against my mind. The way she looked at me… She’s crazy."
My wolf surges protectively at her words. "I won't let her hurt you."
Astrid's mouth curves into a small smile. "My protector."
"Always," I promise. "But don't forget, you're a warrior in your own right. The Table chose you, Astrid. That's no small thing."
She leans against me, her head resting on my shoulder. "We protect each other, then."
"I wouldn't have it any other way." I tilt her chin up with my fingers, meeting her gaze. "I love you," I say, the words finally breaking free. "I would do anything for you. Everything. You're not alone, Astrid. You'll never be alone again."
She pulls back just enough to look up at me, her eyes shining. A smile touches her lips. "Good timing, viking. Because I love you too."
The courtyard feels suddenly warmer, brighter, though nothing has actually changed. My wolf howls in triumph within me, and I have to resist the urge to do the same aloud.
I pull her to me, one hand threading through her hair, the other at the small of her back, drawing her body flush against mine. Her heat, her scent. Wild and sweet. It envelops me as our lips meet.
My wolf surges forward, demanding more, and I deepen the kiss, tasting her, claiming her. Astrid responds instantly, her fingers digging into my shoulders, her body arching into mine. Her heartbeat thunders against my chest, matching the desperate rhythm of my own.
The mating bond between us pulses, hot and electric, carrying fragments of her emotions—desire, love, fierce need—across the connection. My growl vibrates between us as I lift her from the bench and walk her back against the tree, pinning her with my body.
I break the kiss only to trail my lips down the column of her throat, inhaling deeply where her pulse races beneath my mouth. Mine. The word echoes through every shattered and rebuilt piece of my soul.
"Fen," she gasps, tugging me back to her lips.
I capture her mouth again, gentler this time but no less hungry. The taste of her floods my senses. Her tongue slides against mine, and the small sound she makes in the back of her throat nearly undoes me completely.
When we finally part, both breathless and trembling, I rest my forehead against hers. Her eyes, now ringed with gold, meet mine.
My wolf rumbles with satisfaction. This is what we searched for across five centuries of darkness. Not just the return of our soul shard, but this partnership. This bond that makes both of us stronger than we could ever be alone.
"You've ruined me for all eternity, Astrid Mathieson," I murmur. "Five hundred years and only now do I understand what it means to be alive."
Her fingers trace my jawline, feather-light yet branding me with her touch. "Then we're even," she whispers, "because I can't imagine a world without you in it anymore."
"Whatever comes next… Ares, the queen, GUIDE, all of it… we face it together."
Astrid nods, her expression resolute. "Together."
Let Ares bring his troubles from Russia. Let the queen test her prison walls.
We are ready. We stand together.
To be continued… in Gods of Avalon.
Thank you for joining me again in the world of Shattered Souls. I hope you've fallen in love with Astrid and Fenrir and the rest of the Knights of the Round Table as much as I have.
In the next book, we'll dive headfirst into Ares and his mysterious mate's story—a tale that begins months before Toran shows up after his long nap. We'll witness just how far a god will go to protect what's his. You’ll learn more about the troublesome Chimeras and the magick traffickers as well.
And don't worry, we haven't seen the last of our beloved Fenrir and Astrid.
As a newly named Knight of the Round Table, Astrid is only beginning to discover what Yggdrasil and Fate have in store for her.
And as the imprisoned queen grows stronger, the realms face challenges that will require all the Knights—and their mates—to stand together.
The pieces of Excalibur are finding their way home.
And somewhere in Russia, a god has found his match.
Until next time…