Chapter 23-Amrin
The word pulsed inside of me like a live wire the minute he said it.
Mine.
Heat spread from our matebond, warming me to the depths of my soul and I knew then I would do anything for him.
Anything at all—because he is mine and I am his.
And nothing my mother could say would change that.
“Not if I have anything to say about it,” another voice joined the conversation.
I looked up and saw an older male walking towards us beside an uncomfortable looking Gunner.
In fact, he looked equal parts confused and furious standing beside the man, who on closer inspection resembled him—his father maybe?
“Alpha McFadden, you were not to approach me here,” my mother hissed.
“I don’t obey you, Witch. But we have a deal, and I’m here to see it honored.”
Right.
Because apparently this night needed more trauma.
“What is going on here?” Menon asked.
Gunner snarled—but he looked upset and startled.
“Mother?” I asked, clueless as to what was happening.
“Amrin, I’m afraid it is time,” my mother said sharply, relief and irritation warring in her voice. “Come. We’re leaving.”
My mouth dropped open.
Leaving?
Excuse the fuck out of you?
Beside me, Menon went utterly still.
Dangerously still.
The air around him shifted immediately.
Pressure thickened.
Moonlight sharpened.
The runes beneath his blue skin brightened faintly.
Protective celestial Monster mode activated.
“She is not leaving,” Menon growled, his voice low and menacing.
“I am not going anywhere,” I agreed, stating my words carefully.
But my voice shook slightly anyway.
Because no matter how old I became, some terrified younger version of myself still lived beneath my ribs whenever Evelyn Cordoza looked disappointed in me.
My mother’s gaze slid dismissively toward Menon.
Cold.
Assessing.
“You will do as instructed, Amrin. Alpha McFadden requested an audience with you for his son and heir to the McFadden Pack, Gunner.”
“What? Why?” I gasped.
“The request was made after certain revelations came to light.”
“What revelations?” I demanded.
Alpha McFadden snarled before anyone else could answer and addressed my mother.
“Madam Cordoza, you agreed to this arrangement. Any holdup will be seen as an insult to me personally.”
Silence crashed down around us instantly.
I blinked.
“Mother! What is going on?”
Gunner frowned sharply beside his father.
“Father, wait,” he said slowly. “What arrangement?”
Arthur looked equally irritated by his son’s confusion.
“The courtship agreement, boy. Once you failed to secure her acquiescence I had to step in to make sure the betrothal went through as planned.”
“The what? I thought you just suggested I date the Witch, but she wasn’t interested. It went nowhere. I never agreed to a betrothal.”
“Silence! You will do as I say, pup!”
Shock flashed openly across Gunner’s face.
Real shock.
And suddenly—suddenly everything started making horrible sense.
The weird behavior.
The bizarre posturing, and hostility when I didn’t respond to his overtures.
Even his hatred of Menon.
Also, I finally understood why my mother insisted I come here.
She’d orchestrated my entire graduate experience as some sort of weird matchmaking scheme.
And Gunner was just as much a victim as I was.
Oh my gods.
Our parents had orchestrated this entire disaster behind our backs.
My stomach turned violently.
“You promised your daughter to my son,” Arthur snarled toward my mother. “A joining between our bloodlines.”
“I promised nothing finalized,” Evelyn snapped coldly. “Only discussion.”
“Mother,” I whispered in horror. “You tried arranging a mating contract?”
She actually looked offended by my tone.
“You needed stability, Amrin. A strong mate might help your magic—”
I stared at her.
Completely stunned.
“Without powers or proper affinity alignment, your prospects within the Coven were uncertain,” she continued briskly like this conversation was somehow reasonable. “The McFaddens offered security.”
Security.
The word hit like a slap.
Beside me, Menon’s tail tightened violently around my waist.
Lunar power rolled off him in icy waves now.
Dangerously controlled.
“Excuse me,” Gunner interrupted suddenly, sounding genuinely appalled. “No one told me any of this shit.”
Arthur rounded on him immediately.
“Your Wolf requires a proper mate to achieve balance. Especially, if you want to take the mantle of Alpha someday, pup! No bitch in the Pack would have you with your issues, and a Witch would offer you respectability. I expected you to man up and claim the Witch when I told you about her, but you failed and now I’m here to clean up your mess,” Alpha McFadden snarled.
“You thought you knew what my Wolf required? How about what I required was informed consent, old man!”
That startled me enough I actually blinked.
Gunner looked furious now too.
Not at me.
At his father.
“I thought I was chasing her because of some weird instinctive rivalry thing with Blue Boy over here. You always hated Sten for some reason ever since I first mentioned him and yeah, I don’t mind a little healthy rivalry, but what the fuck, Dad!” Gunner snapped, jerking a hand toward Menon.
“I didn’t know you psychos were arranging supernatural marriages behind my back!”
Menon made a low dangerous sound in his throat.
“Blue Boy?”
“Not important right now,” Gunner muttered quickly.
Honestly?
Fair.
“Excuse me, I don’t care who agreed to what because I won’t be traded around like property,” I said shakily.
Emotion clogged painfully in my throat.
Humiliation.
Anger.
Years of feeling lesser suddenly crashing together all at once.
My mother’s expression hardened immediately.
“Amrin, just listen to me. I did this for your own good. You’re-you’re behaving emotionally!”
“Of fucking course I am!” I snapped. “Mother, this is insane! Even for you.”
Beside me, Menon shifted slightly closer.
Never interrupting.
Never speaking over me.
Just there.
Solid.
Protective.
Ready.
And somehow that gave me strength.
“I’m not some backup daughter you can barter off because my magic developed differently,” I continued, voice trembling harder now.
“Did you honestly think I’d just quietly agree to marry a stranger because you decided I wasn’t useful enough on my own?”
Evelyn’s face faltered slightly.
For the first time all night—actual guilt.
Interesting.
“I was trying to secure your future,” she said quietly.
“No,” I whispered painfully. “You were trying to manage your embarrassment.”
Silence.
Arthur scoffed loudly.
“Well none of it matters now anyway since this fat little Witch has already fucked the blue-skinned freak!”
Wrong thing to say.
Very wrong thing.
Moonlight exploded violently around Menon.
The festival lanterns overhead flickered so hard several nearby students screamed and stumbled backward from the sudden surge of celestial power.
The air itself changed.
Pressure rolled outward in icy waves while silver-blue runes flared bright beneath Menon’s skin like living constellations waking beneath flesh.
Every instinct inside me reacted instantly.
Not fear.
Protection.
My magic surged toward him automatically, blue sparks dancing wildly across my fingertips as I stepped closer to his side without even thinking about it.
Because someone had threatened me and my mate was about to lose his shit.
And apparently that was okay with me.
Even my body seemed to already decide violence was an acceptable response to the Alpha’s threat.
Interesting.
“Do. Not. Speak. About my mate,” Menon said softly. “Not ever. And never in that way.”
Gods.
That voice.
Low.
Cold.
Absolutely lethal.
The warmth vanished completely from his expression as he stared at Arthur McFadden.
Not emotional.
Not dramatic.
Worse.
Controlled.
The kind of control that suggested horrifying things waited underneath it.
Even Arthur visibly recoiled half a step.
Still—the Alpha’s pride would not let him back down.
“I know about your bloodline,” Arthur growled. “I know exactly where you come from, Menon Blau.”
The use of Menon’s true name felt strange and intimate in the middle of the crowded festival grounds.
The celestial runes along Menon’s throat brightened sharply.
Arthur continued anyway.
“The Wolves of Fenrir hunted your kind long before Runevald existed.”
A chill slid down my spine.
Fenrir.
I knew that name.
Even Witches knew that name.
Fenrir was the monstrous wolf from Norse mythology destined to devour the gods during Ragnarok.
Only now, standing in a magical realm beneath a blue moon beside my celestial mate—I was beginning to understand those stories weren’t mythology at all.
They were history.
Gunner stiffened beside his father instantly.
Then slowly—very slowly—understanding spread across his face.
His eyes snapped toward Menon.
Holy shit.
“You’re Menon Blau?”
The tension around us sharpened immediately.
Students nearby had started openly staring now.
Of course they were.
Apparently the future celestial guardian prince of Asgard threatening a Fenrir Alpha in the middle of the Spring Equinox Festival counted as entertainment at Runevald.
The hatred I’d sensed from Gunner since arriving at the Institute suddenly made awful, perfect sense.
Descendant of Máni.
Descendant of Fenrir.
Moon versus Wolf.
Ancient instinctive rivalry embedded directly into supernatural bloodlines.
Divine predator chasing celestial prey.
The old Norse legends flashed through my mind suddenly.
Skoll and Hati.
The wolves destined to chase the moon and sun across the heavens until the end of the world.
And Menon—Gods.
Menon carried the blood of the moon itself.
No wonder Gunner reacted to him instinctively.
No wonder Menon’s presence made the Wolf restless and angry without understanding why.
Biological.
Ancient.
Primal.
Menon inclined his head once.
“Yes.”
Gunner dragged one hand down his face roughly.
“Well,” he muttered. “That explains a fucking lot actually.”
The tension shifted strangely after that.
Not gone.
Never gone.
But changed.