Updated Mar 22, 2026 • ~11 min read
Chapter 10: Parents’ Truth Revealed
Two days until ceremony.
Astrid can’t sleep.
Something’s nagging at her.
Details that don’t add up.
Magnus said Fenrir killed her parents.
But how does he know for sure?
Was he there?
Did he try to stop it?
Why didn’t he tell her sooner?
Questions spiraling.
Demanding answers.
She finds Magnus in the library.
Early morning. Dawn light.
He’s reading pack records.
Planning security for the ceremony.
Fenrir’s threat still real.
“We need to talk.”
He looks up.
Sees her expression.
Tense. Determined.
“About?”
“My parents. You said Fenrir killed them. I want the full story. No omissions. No protecting me. Everything.”
Magnus closes the book.
Stands.
“You deserve truth. But you won’t like it.”
“I don’t care. Tell me.”
He paces.
Choosing words carefully.
“Ten years ago, your parents discovered the werewolf world. They were researching Blackwood history. Found references to Elara. To wolves. To prophecy.”
“Moira helped them?”
“No. She tried to hide it. But they were persistent. Smart. They put pieces together.”
“They came to Scotland. Demanded to see Moira. Confront her about the inheritance. About putting you in danger.”
Astrid remembers the letters.
Her mother begging Moira to change the will.
Leave the estate to charity.
Protect Astrid from this world.
“They never made it to Ashenmoor,” Magnus continues. “Fenrir intercepted them. On the road. Near the border of Main Pack territory.”
“Why would Fenrir care about my parents?”
Magnus’s expression darkens.
“Because he knew. About the prophecy. About the silver-eyed heir. About you.”
“But I was just a teenager—”
“You were the future. The key to ultimate pack power. Fenrir’s been planning this for decades. Waiting for the duchess to return. When your parents threatened to expose werewolves, to pull you out of Scotland permanently, he saw them as obstacles.”
Astrid’s stomach drops.
“He killed them to get to me?”
“He killed them to prevent interference. To ensure you’d inherit. To keep you accessible when the time came.”
“And you knew this? For ten years?”
Magnus meets her eyes.
Guilt written clear.
“I knew. Yes.”
The betrayal hits like physical blow.
“You KNEW Fenrir murdered my parents and you didn’t tell me?!”
“You weren’t ready—”
“That’s not your decision! They were MY parents! I had a right to know!”
“What would knowing change? They’re still dead. Fenrir’s still guilty. The truth doesn’t bring them back—”
“The truth gives me CHOICE! Knowledge! Power! You kept me ignorant while pretending to respect my autonomy!”
She’s shaking.
Rage. Grief. Betrayal.
All crashing together.
Magnus reaches for her.
She steps back.
“Don’t. Don’t touch me.”
“Astrid—”
“Were you there? When they died?”
Silence.
Damning silence.
“Answer me! Were you there when Fenrir killed my parents?”
“Yes.”
The word falls like stone.
Heavy. Final. Devastating.
“I was there. Tracking Fenrir’s movements. Heard about human researchers asking questions. Followed him to intercept.”
“Did you try to stop him?”
“I tried. I failed.”
“How?”
“What?”
“How did you try? What did you do?”
Magnus’s jaw tightens.
“I challenged him. Told him killing humans would bring hunters. Exposure. Danger for all packs.”
“And?”
“He said exposure was temporary. The duchess was forever. That sacrificing two humans to secure centuries of power was strategic.”
Astrid’s crying now.
Tears of fury.
“You let him talk you out of saving them?”
“I didn’t let him! I fought him! Physically fought! He had twelve wolves with him! I had three! We were outnumbered!”
“Then you should have died trying!”
“I nearly did! Look!”
He pulls up his shirt.
Massive scar across his ribs.
Silver blade.
Permanent damage.
“Fenrir’s beta stabbed me with silver dagger. Left me bleeding out. I survived. Barely. By the time I healed enough to move, your parents were already dead. Made to look like car accident.”
Astrid stares at the scar.
Proof of his fight.
Proof of his failure.
“You should have told me. The moment I arrived. Before I started trusting you.”
“Would you have believed me? Or would you have thought I was manipulating you against Fenrir?”
Fair point.
She wouldn’t have believed.
Would have thought it was pack politics.
Alpha rivalry.
Lies to control her.
But now?
Now she knows Fenrir lied about the bond.
Attacked her home.
The pattern fits.
“I believe you,” she whispers. “About the murder. About trying to stop it. But I don’t forgive you for hiding it.”
“I’m not asking forgiveness. I’m asking understanding. I made choices to protect you—”
“Stop saying that! You made choices to control the situation! To manage me like a chess piece!”
“Because you ARE a chess piece! In a game that started before you were born! Fenrir’s been planning this for decades! I’m trying to keep you alive long enough to claim your power!”
She wants to hit him.
Scream at him.
Run away.
But she’s trapped.
The bond pulling.
The prophecy binding.
The truth suffocating.
“Tell me everything else. Right now. Every secret. Every manipulation. Every lie by omission. All of it.”
Magnus sits.
Exhausted.
“Your great-aunt Moira. She didn’t die of natural causes.”
Astrid freezes.
“What?”
“She was murdered. Three months before you inherited. Poison. Slow-acting. Undetectable.”
“By Fenrir?”
“We think so. But can’t prove it. Her death triggered the inheritance. Brought you to Scotland. Exactly when Fenrir wanted.”
More revelations.
More manipulations.
“The lawyer. Mr. MacLeish. The one who contacted me about the estate. Is he part of this?”
“No. He’s human. Unaware. But Fenrir influenced the timing. Made sure you got the inheritance notice quickly. Before Main Pack could interfere.”
“What else?”
“The town. The locals who refuse to help you. Some are genuinely afraid of werewolves. But others were paid by Fenrir. To isolate you. Make you dependent on pack support.”
Each truth is another weight.
Another layer of manipulation.
“The full moon gathering. When Fenrir showed up. That wasn’t coincidence?”
“No. I invited him. Neutral ground. Trying to negotiate peace before you arrived. He refused. Said he’d claim you regardless of my bond.”
“So you’ve been fighting over me for months?”
“Years. Since Moira first told us about you. About the silver eyes. About the prophecy coming true.”
Astrid sinks into a chair.
Overwhelmed.
Her entire life orchestrated.
Parents murdered.
Great-aunt poisoned.
Town manipulated.
All to control her.
Use her.
Claim her power.
“I’m not a person to you. Any of you. I’m a tool.”
Magnus kneels in front of her.
Eye level.
“You’re wrong. You started as prophecy. As strategy. But you’re not anymore. I’ve seen you fight. Lead. Protect people you barely know. You’re not a tool. You’re… extraordinary. And I’m sorry. For the manipulation. For the secrets. For every choice I made that hurt you.”
“Sorry doesn’t fix it.”
“I know. But it’s all I have.”
She looks at him.
Really looks.
He’s genuine.
Remorseful.
But also desperate.
Fated mate dying without bond.
He needs her.
Would do anything to keep her.
Including lie.
“If I asked you to release me from the bond. To let me walk away. Would you?”
Magnus’s expression crumbles.
“I can’t. The bond doesn’t work that way. It’s not a contract. It’s fate. Soul recognition. Even if I released you, the bond would remain. Pulling. Destroying us both until we either bond or die.”
“So I’m trapped.”
“We’re both trapped. By fate. By prophecy. By choices made centuries before we were born.”
Astrid stands.
Walks to the window.
Dawn fully broken now.
Two days until full moon.
Two days until ceremony.
Until bonding becomes permanent.
Until choice disappears completely.
“I need time. To process. To think.”
“We don’t have time—”
“I’m aware! But you asking me to bond while I’m drowning in revelations about murder and manipulation isn’t fair!”
Magnus stands.
“You’re right. Take the day. I’ll give you space. But tomorrow night, we need to finalize ceremony details. Security. Ritual. Everything.”
“Fine.”
He moves toward the door.
Pauses.
“For what it’s worth? Your parents loved you. Everything they did was to protect you. They died fighting for your freedom. I wish I could have saved them. I carry that failure every day.”
He leaves.
Astrid’s alone.
Again.
But not really alone.
The bond hums.
Constant reminder.
Magnus is always there.
In her blood. Her bones. Her soul.
Whether she wants him or not.
She pulls out her phone.
Dead.
No service this far into wilderness anyway.
But she tries.
Desperate for connection to her old life.
London. Work. Normalcy.
All gone.
Replaced by wolves and prophecy and murder.
A knock at the door.
Vega enters.
“Heard you had a rough morning.”
“Magnus told you?”
“Soren did. Magnus is… not in good shape. Blaming himself.”
“He should. He lied.”
“He did. But he also fought for your parents. Nearly died. That counts for something.”
Astrid doesn’t want to be reasonable.
Wants to rage.
But Vega’s right.
Magnus tried.
Failed, but tried.
“Fenrir killed them. To get to me. To control my future.”
“Yes.”
“And now I’m supposed to bond with Magnus. Cement the very power Fenrir murdered my parents to claim.”
“You’re supposed to survive. How you do that is your choice.”
“It’s not a choice if refusing means death.”
“Then it’s a shit choice. But still a choice. Bond with Magnus and live. Refuse and die young like every Blackwood woman before you. Those are your options.”
“What would you do?”
Vega smiles sadly.
“I chose the bond. Chose love over logic. Over pack loyalty. Over everything. And it’s been hell. Beautiful, complicated, impossible hell. But I’d choose it again.”
“Because of the mate?”
“Because of the life. Being part of something bigger. Pack. Magic. Ancient power. It’s terrifying and extraordinary. You can go back to London. Back to archives and ordinary life. But you’ll always feel the pull. Always know there’s more. And it’ll eat you alive.”
Truth in her words.
Undeniable truth.
Astrid already feels it.
The pull toward Magnus.
Toward pack.
Toward destiny.
Fighting it is exhausting.
Maybe accepting it is the only real choice.
“The ceremony is in two days.”
“Yes.”
“And after that? After I bond?”
“After that, you’re pack. Duchess. Alpha female. You lead with Magnus. Protect the territory. Use your power. Build something new.”
“And Fenrir?”
“War. Immediate. Brutal. He won’t accept your choice quietly.”
Astrid’s pulse spikes.
“People will die.”
“People are already dying. Fenrir’s been killing for decades. Your parents. Moira. Others we don’t even know about. Bonding with Magnus doesn’t start the war. It just makes the sides clear.”
Makes sense.
Terrible sense.
“I want vengeance. For my parents.”
“Then bond with Magnus. Use duchess power. Destroy Fenrir. That’s the best revenge possible.”
Vega’s right.
Bonding isn’t surrender.
It’s weaponizing herself.
Claiming power.
Becoming what Fenrir fears most.
Duchess with alpha mate.
Unstoppable.
“How does the ceremony work?”
“I’ll explain everything. But first, you need to eat. You’ve been running on adrenaline for days. Magnus ordered breakfast. It’s downstairs.”
“Magnus ordered—”
“He’s alpha. Caretaking is instinct. Especially for mates. Let him feed you. It’ll calm him down.”
Astrid follows Vega downstairs.
The pack is already up.
Working.
Repairing damage from Fenrir’s attack.
Rebuilding.
They stop when she enters.
Respectful nods.
“Duchess.”
The title still feels wrong.
But less wrong than before.
She’s earned it.
Proved herself.
They accept her.
Even if she doesn’t fully accept herself yet.
Magnus is in the kitchen.
Cooking.
Actually cooking.
Eggs. Bacon. Toast.
Human food.
For her.
He sees her.
Relief flashes across his face.
“You came down.”
“Vega said you made breakfast.”
“I did. Wasn’t sure you’d eat. But… hoping.”
She sits.
He serves.
The domesticity is strange.
Alpha werewolf playing housewife.
But also… sweet?
“Thank you.”
“For breakfast?”
“For trying. With my parents. I’m still angry you didn’t tell me. But I believe you tried to save them.”
Magnus sits across from her.
“I failed them. I won’t fail you.”
“You can’t promise that.”
“I can promise I’ll die trying. That’s all any mate can offer.”
They eat in silence.
Tension easing.
Not gone.
But manageable.
“Two days,” she says.
“Two days.”
“And then everything changes.”
“Everything already changed. The moment you inherited. The moment we met. The bond was always going to happen. We’re just making it official.”
She finishes eating.
Stands.
“I need to see where they died. My parents. The actual location.”
Magnus hesitates.
“Why?”
“Because Fenrir took them from me there. I need to face it. Acknowledge it. Before I can move forward.”
“It’s dangerous. Main Pack territory—”
“Then we go in wolf form. Fast. In and out. But I’m going. With or without you.”
Magnus’s jaw tightens.
Then softens.
“With me. Always with me. I’ll take you. Today. Before sunset.”
“Thank you.”
She walks away.
Back to her room.
To prepare.
To armor herself for facing her parents’ death site.
For confronting the truth that’s haunted her for a decade.
And for deciding, once and for all, if vengeance is worth bonding with a wolf.
Worth becoming the thing her parents died trying to prevent.
The Midnight Duchess.
Forever.
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