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Tyr was the only one unprepared, and found himself flung back several feet. He crashed to the ground—hard—and almost lost his grip on his weapon. He recovered quickly and propped himself up, staring at me in disbelief.
My breath came out ragged and hard, as if I’d just ran up fifty flights of stairs. My fingers trembled and weakness flickered in the back of my mind.That magic… did a number on me. Great.
Of course, I refused to let that stop me.
“Astrid, why?” Tyr demanded. “Why would you—”
“Quiet,” I said, my tone as strong as before when I first told him to stop, even with the difficulty breathing. “I asked Aya to bring him here. I’m the one who wanted to talk to him.”
I took a calming breath. “I get you’re angry, but you’re not the one who stared down the wolf as he clamped down on your throat and ripped the life out of you.”
Tyr climbed to his feet, conflict raging in his expression.
“This is my choice, and I expect you to respect it.” I turned to face my past.
Kirby still stood in front of Fenrir, but she had a bit more of a relaxed posture. She shook her head when our eyes met. “We’ve certainly got a lot to talk about, don’t we?”
I gave a small nod. “I think so. But after.”
She nodded, her wings folding back against her back and then disappearing alongside her weapon before she stepped aside, leaving Fenrir exposed to my full scrutiny. His pale blue eyes focused on me, his pupils slightly dilated and the corners of his eyes tight. His hands clenched and unclenched, as did the muscles in his jaws.
“Astrid.” His deep and rough, almost growly voice rolled over me. That one word sent a flood of memories through me. Some, I’d already seen, but now were more solidified. Others were new but not unpleasant.
My head tipped for a moment while I processed the remaining memories. “Hey, Fluffy.”
Fen’s nervous tics stopped, and the corner of his mouth quirked. “You remember.”
“It’s complicated.”
“Like the rest of this situation.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Look, Astrid—”
“I don’t want you to say anything.” I took a deep, calming breath. I couldn’t believe I was about to ask this. “I want… you to shift.”
He stiffened. “Are you—”
“I’m sure.” The muscles in my back tightened all the way up to my neck. “I need to confirm for myself what I saw.”
Aya rested her hands on my shoulders. She knew how difficult it would be for me to face this. To stare a black wolf down was to face this fear in the most literal sense possible.
Fenrir took a deep breath. “Okay. I’m sorry if I frighten you.”
His body grew and twisted. Dark hair grew all along his body until a massive wolf the size of a truck towed over us. I swallowed hard, my body locking up. My lungs seized.
“Breathe,” Aya murmured.
I sucked in a hard breath through my nose. And then another. I knew this form. It was the same as my memories of him. And those memories told me he was always gentle with me, even after I became immortal.
I took one step forward. And then another, lifting a hand to reach out to him.
Fenrir’s ears pinned back, and his front legs bent, lowering him. His lips pulled back, showing his gleaming teeth. The sight of them made me pause for a moment, but only a moment.He’s not being aggressive. He’s scared, like me.
My eyes didn’t leave him, taking in everything he was. I got within an arm’s reach, feeling his hot breath wash over my skin.
My vision flashed back to that day I died, and then blinked back. It continued to do so until it felt like the past and present were overlapping.
Strong, powerful body. Lean, damaged body.
Large. Medium.
