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.
CHAPTER 39
Mine
