Updated Mar 22, 2026 • ~8 min read
Chapter 6: Journey to Odin
Dawn.
Astrid’s packed.
Light. Practical. Ready.
Vega arrives in a battered Land Rover.
“Your chariot awaits, Duchess.”
“Please don’t call me that.”
“Would you prefer ‘Your Highness’?”
Astrid glares.
Vega laughs.
“Relax. It’s a three-day drive. We’ll be casual. Just two women on a road trip. Talking pack politics and ancient prophecies. Normal stuff.”
They drive north.
Deeper into the Highlands.
Roads getting rougher. Civilization fading.
“How far is Odin exactly?”
“Far. He lives at the boundary. Where Scotland meets the old magic. No phones. No electricity. Just wolves and wilderness.”
“Sounds inviting.”
“It’s not meant to be. Odin values isolation. Says it keeps him neutral. No pack influences. No alpha politics. Just ancient law.”
Hours pass.
Astrid watches the landscape change.
More wild. More primal.
Like driving back in time.
“Can I ask you something?” Vega says.
“Sure.”
“What do you feel when Magnus is near? Honestly.”
Astrid considers lying.
Doesn’t.
“Pull. Like gravity. Like he’s the center and I’m orbiting. It’s uncomfortable. Invasive. I don’t like it.”
“That’s the mate bond forming. Early stages. It gets stronger.”
“What if I don’t want it stronger?”
“Doesn’t matter what you want. Fated bonds don’t ask permission.”
Silence.
Then: “Can I ask you something?”
“Fair trade,” Vega says.
“Magnus said you’re daughter of a rogue, mated to Main Pack. What does that mean?”
Vega’s expression darkens.
“It means I’m caught between worlds. My father was Magnus’s beta. Died in territory war with Fenrir. I should hate Main Pack. Except…”
“Except?”
“I met someone. Main Pack warrior. Fenrir’s third-in-command. We bonded. Fated mates. Even though our packs are enemies.”
“What did you do?”
“Chose love over loyalty. Left Magnus’s pack. Joined my mate. Fenrir tolerates me because I’m useful. But I’m never fully trusted.”
“Do you regret it?”
Vega smiles.
Sad. Complex.
“Every day. And never. Love is complicated when packs are at war.”
They stop for lunch.
Small village. Pub food.
The locals stare.
Not hostile. Wary.
Like they know what Vega is.
What Astrid might be.
“Do they know?” Astrid whispers.
“About werewolves? Some. The old families. The smart ones. They don’t interfere. We don’t interfere. Mutual ignorance keeps the peace.”
An old man approaches.
Grey beard. Sharp eyes.
“You’re taking her to Odin.”
Not a question.
Vega nods.
“She has that right. Duchess privilege.”
The old man looks at Astrid.
Assessing.
“You look like her. Like the first one. Same eyes. Same fate.”
“You knew Elara?”
He laughs.
Bitter.
“I’m not that old. But my grandfather did. Said she was magnificent. Brave. Doomed. Just like you.”
“I’m not doomed—”
“Aren’t you? Two alphas want you. Both will kill for you. One of them killed your parents. The other couldn’t stop it. That’s not a choice. That’s a trap.”
He leaves without another word.
Astrid’s appetite vanishes.
“He’s wrong,” Vega says. “You have more power than Elara did. More knowledge. More time. You can survive this.”
“You don’t sound convinced.”
“I’m not. But I’m hoping anyway.”
They drive into the evening.
Sun setting over mountains.
Landscape getting more remote.
No houses. No roads. Just tracks.
“We’re in the Northlands now,” Vega says. “Neutral territory. No pack claims this land. Too wild. Too old. Even wolves respect the boundary.”
“Why?”
“Because Odin enforces it. He’s older than any alpha. Stronger. More connected to the old magic. Piss him off, and he’ll end you. Simple as that.”
“Comforting.”
They camp that night.
No hotels out here.
Just wilderness.
Vega builds a fire.
Expert. Practiced.
“You do this often?”
“Used to. Before mating. Loved running wild. Just wolf and forest. No politics. No wars. Just being.”
“Do you miss it?”
“Every day.”
Night falls.
Stars emerge.
Thousands of them.
No light pollution out here.
Just sky and silence.
“Tell me about Magnus,” Astrid says.
Vega pokes the fire.
“What do you want to know?”
“Is he trustworthy? Honest? Or is this all manipulation?”
“Bit of both.”
Not reassuring.
“Magnus is a good alpha. Fair. Protective. He cares about his pack. But he’s also desperate. Fated mates are rare. Losing you means going feral. He’ll do anything to prevent that.”
“Including manipulate me?”
“Including control circumstances. Push you toward choosing him. Make Fenrir look worse. Yes.”
“But the bond is real?”
Vega meets her eyes.
“The bond is real. I can smell it on both of you. Soul recognition. Whether you accept it or not, you’re fated. Magnus isn’t lying about that.”
Astrid processes.
“What about Fenrir? Does he actually feel the bond? Or is he just claiming it?”
“Fenrir’s harder to read. He says he feels it. Swears you’re his mate. But…”
“But?”
“But Fenrir lies. A lot. It’s part of his strategy. Control through deception. I don’t trust him.”
“Yet you live in his pack.”
“Because my mate is there. And love makes you stupid.”
Fair point.
They sleep in shifts.
Vega first watch. Then Astrid.
Midnight.
Astrid’s sitting by the dying fire.
Listening to wilderness sounds.
Howling in the distance.
Multiple sources.
Circling.
Her skin prickles.
“Vega.”
Instantly awake.
“I hear them.”
“Whose pack?”
Vega sniffs the air.
“Both. Magnus’s wolves to the east. Fenrir’s to the west. They’re following us.”
“Why?”
“Because you’re valuable. Neither alpha trusts you out of sight. They’re… protecting.”
“Or stalking.”
“Probably both.”
Shapes emerge from darkness.
Two wolves.
One massive black. One massive silver.
Magnus and Fenrir.
Both in wolf form.
Both staring at each other.
Then at Astrid.
“Oh no,” Vega mutters.
“What?”
“They’re about to fight. Over you. Here. Now.”
Magnus growls.
Low. Threatening.
Fenrir growls back.
Matching threat.
Two alphas. Neutral ground. No pack to stop them.
This could get bloody.
Astrid stands.
“Stop.”
One word.
Firm. Commanding.
Both wolves pause.
Look at her.
Surprised.
“You’re not fighting over me. Not here. Not anywhere. I’m not a prize.”
Magnus shifts to human.
Naked. Unconcerned.
“He followed you.”
“So did you!”
“I’m protecting you—”
“From what? Fenrir’s protecting me too, apparently. You’re both stalking me and calling it protection.”
Fenrir shifts.
Also naked. Also perfect.
Astrid keeps her eyes up.
“Lady Blackwood. Forgive the intrusion. I merely wanted to ensure your safety on this journey.”
“By following me without permission?”
“By respecting your autonomy while maintaining proximity. Subtle difference.”
His voice is smooth.
Cultured. Charming.
Everything Magnus isn’t.
It sets her teeth on edge.
“Both of you need to leave. Now. I’m going to Odin for neutral counsel. That means NO ALPHAS. No pressure. No influence. Just truth.”
“Odin could be biased—”
“He’s literal ancient law enforcement. That’s the definition of neutral. You’re dismissed.”
Magnus looks ready to argue.
Fenrir actually smiles.
“As you command, Duchess. We’ll withdraw. For now.”
He transforms. Disappears into darkness.
Pack following.
Magnus lingers.
“Be careful. Odin isn’t what you think.”
“What does that mean?”
“He’s fair. But fairness isn’t always kind. He’ll tell you truth. Even truth that hurts. Even truth that destroys hope.”
“I want truth. Whatever it is.”
Magnus’s expression is pained.
“I know. That’s what I love about you. Your courage. Even when it terrifies me.”
He transforms.
Runs into the forest.
Pack following.
Vega exhales.
“That was either very brave or very stupid.”
“Which?”
“Both. You just ordered around two alphas. On neutral ground. And they obeyed. The duchess power is real.”
Astrid’s hands shake.
She did that.
Commanded wolves.
They listened.
The power is real.
Terrifying.
And undeniable.
Day three.
They reach Odin’s territory.
Not a house. A den.
Massive cave system.
Ancient. Primal.
Carved with runes. Symbols.
Old magic.
“He lives here?”
“He’s lived here since before Scotland was Scotland. This place predates humans.”
A wolf emerges.
Old. White-furred. Scarred.
But golden-eyed. Powerful.
He transforms.
Man who looks eighty. Body of someone forty.
Ancient wisdom. Eternal strength.
Odin.
“Astrid Blackwood. The silver-eyed duchess. I’ve been expecting you.”
“How did you—”
“I know everything that happens on my lands. Two alphas followed you. You dismissed them. Impressive.”
He looks at Vega.
“You can leave. Duchess business is private.”
“I’m her escort—”
“She’s safe here. Go.”
Not suggestion. Command.
Vega leaves.
Reluctantly.
Astrid’s alone with Odin.
Most powerful wolf she’s met.
And she’s not sure if that’s good or bad.
“Come inside. We have much to discuss. And three weeks isn’t enough time to cover everything. But we’ll try.”
He walks into the cave.
Expecting her to follow.
Astrid hesitates.
Then follows.
Into darkness.
Into truth.
Into whatever Odin decides she needs to know.
For better or worse.
Fate doesn’t wait.
And neither does ancient law.
Time to learn what being duchess really means.
And whether she can survive it.
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