My stomach drops like I've missed a step on a staircase. After everything. After dying, coming back, tracking him across a mountain… The rejection cuts deeper than I want to admit, even to myself. Part of me wants to snarl right back at him, to channel the hurt into something safer like anger. Instead, I swallow hard against the tightness in my throat.
So much for true love conquering all, I think bitterly, even as I steel myself for what comes next. Recognition or not, I didn't come all this way to turn back now. If I have to remind him who I am the hard way, so be it.
Think human, my wolf guides. Fingers. Skin.
Got it, I mutter internally.
I plant my paws firmly in the center of the clearing, meeting his golden gaze head-on. If he doesn't recognize me as a wolf, I'll just have to show him who I am.
Here goes nothing.
I hold my position, refusing to back down or break eye contact as I begin the shift. The transformation isn't as bad as the first one, but my bones still crack, my muscles still stretch, and fur receding into skin is one of the weirdest sensations I've ever felt.
I force myself to remain standing as long as possible before my reforming human legs give out. When it's done, I'm on all fours in the middle of the clearing, naked and swearing under my breath.
"Fuck," I hiss. "That hurt."
But I didn't hide. I didn't retreat. If Fen really wants to reject me, he'll have to do it to my face—my human face—not to some wolf he doesn't recognize.
Submit, the wolf whispers.
"Submit?" I look up to where Fen had been standing. He's gone. Great. I rise to my feet, acutely aware of my nakedness and vulnerability. The mountain air chills my bare skin, raising goosebumps across my arms and shoulders.
Then a low, menacing growl sounds behind me.
The hair on the back of my neck stands up. I turn slowly, careful not to make any sudden movements. He moves with lethal grace, each step deliberate, his massive head lowered and hackles raised. His teeth are bared in a snarl that would make most people piss themselves.
He can see me now. He should recognize me. But there's no hint of Fen in those savage golden eyes—only the wolf, and it sees me as an intruder. A threat.
Fuck.
My wolf stirs beneath my skin, more insistent now. Submit.
"Fen," I say, keeping my voice steady as I stand my ground. "It's me. It's Astrid."
The growl deepens, rumbling through the clearing like distant thunder. The sound vibrates in my chest. He takes a step forward, then another. His eyes never leave mine. Predator assessing prey.
"I didn't come back from the dead to have you ignore me, Viking," I say, injecting as much attitude as possible into the words.
His ears flick forward at that, a moment of hesitation, but his stance remains aggressive. Something flickers in those golden eyes. Confusion, perhaps. Recognition struggling against instinct.
It's still not enough. Whatever part of him might know me is buried too deep.
He charges.
Time slows as the massive wolf lunges toward me, a blur of muscle and fury. Every brain cell screams at me to run, to dodge, to shift back into my wolf. My heart hammers against my ribs, adrenaline flooding my system.
Submit. Show neck. NOW.
"Fuck it!" I drop to my knees. I lower my head, exposing my neck, the ultimate gesture of trust according to the frantic wolf in my head. It feels completely wrong, but I hold the vulnerable position. My hands tremble where they rest on my bare thighs, but I don't move.
"It's me, Fen," I say through gritted teeth. "Your grandfather brought me back and stuck me with a wolf somehow. I don't understand any of this and I need you to come back to me."
The impact never comes.
I look up to find Fen looming over me, massive paws planted on either side of me, teeth inches from my throat. A tremor runs through his powerful frame as golden eyes study me with savage intensity. His breath is hot against my skin.
My breathing comes in short, controlled bursts as I fight to keep my expression steady, refusing to let him see how terrified I am—not of him, but of the possibility that he might never remember me. That I might have come back from death only to lose him anyway.
