Updated Mar 22, 2026 • ~8 min read
Chapter 8: Fenrir’s Attack
Astrid returns to Ashenmoor different.
Knowing changes everything.
Magnus is her fated mate.
Verified. Undeniable. Real.
And she hates it.
Hates that choice was stolen.
That fate decided.
That she’s trapped.
Magnus keeps his distance.
Gives her the space she demanded.
But she feels him nearby.
Always nearby.
The bond pulls.
Constant. Insistent. Uncomfortable.
Like gravity toward someone she doesn’t want to need.
One week passes.
Seven days until full moon.
Seven days until she’s expected to bond.
Claim Magnus publicly.
Accept mate mark.
Become his forever.
She’s not ready.
Doesn’t know if she’ll ever be ready.
Vega visits.
Bringing food. Supplies. Company.
“You look terrible.”
“Thanks.”
“I mean it. When’s the last time you slept?”
Astrid doesn’t remember.
Days blur together.
Nightmares when she does sleep.
Silver wolves. Golden eyes. Teeth.
“I can’t do this,” she admits.
“Can’t do what?”
“Bond. Mate. Accept fate. I can’t.”
Vega sits beside her.
“I understand. I do. But refusing won’t change reality. The bond exists whether you accept it or not.”
“Then I’ll die fighting it.”
“That’s not courage. That’s suicide.”
Harsh.
True.
“What did you do?” Astrid asks. “When you discovered your mate?”
“I ran. For three months. Denied it. Fought it. Made myself miserable.”
“What changed?”
“I realized running from fate just meant running from happiness. The bond isn’t a curse. It’s a gift. If you let it be.”
“Magnus manipulated me. My inheritance. My arrival. Everything.”
“He did. Out of desperation. Not malice. Doesn’t excuse it. But explains it.”
“That’s not enough.”
“Then what is? What would make you accept him?”
Astrid doesn’t have an answer.
That night, Fenrir comes.
She’s alone.
Vega left at sunset.
Magnus is patrolling with his pack.
Distant enough to give space.
Close enough to protect.
Or so he thinks.
The attack comes fast.
Glass shattering. Wolves pouring through windows.
Dozens of them.
Fenrir’s pack.
Coordinated. Vicious. Overwhelming.
Astrid runs.
Up stairs. Toward the master bedroom.
Lock the door.
Useless against werewolves.
They break through.
Three wolves. Sleek. Dangerous.
Cornering her.
She gathers power.
Like Odin taught.
“Stop!”
Command. Authority. Duchess power.
Two wolves freeze.
Forced submission.
But the third resists.
Stronger. More dominant.
Fenrir’s beta.
Not fully under her control yet.
Power too new. Too weak.
The beta lunges.
Teeth aiming for her throat.
She dodges.
Barely.
Crashes into the wall.
The wolf turns.
Preparing another attack.
This time, she won’t be fast enough.
Then Magnus is there.
Bursting through the doorway.
Massive black wolf.
Fury incarnate.
He slams into Fenrir’s beta.
Vicious. Brutal. Protective.
They fight.
Crashing through furniture. Destroying the room.
Blood everywhere.
More of Magnus’s pack arrives.
Soren. Vega. Others.
Fighting Fenrir’s wolves.
Driving them out.
Protecting their duchess.
Even though she hasn’t chosen them yet.
Even though she’s rejected their alpha.
They fight for her anyway.
Fenrir himself appears.
Human form. Doorway.
Watching the carnage with cold amusement.
“Duchess. This is unnecessary. Come with me willingly. Avoid more bloodshed.”
“Go to hell.”
He sighs.
“I tried to do this civilly. Court you. Win you. But Magnus poisoned your mind. Made you think bond testing matters. It doesn’t.”
“You lied about being my mate—”
“I lied about feeling the bond. Not about wanting you. I want you, Astrid. For power. For status. For dynasty. That’s more honest than Magnus’s soul mate bullshit.”
He steps closer.
Magnus growls warning.
Fenrir ignores him.
“I’m taking you tonight. Whether you come willingly or not. Choose: walk with me, or I kill everyone in this room. Starting with Magnus.”
“You can’t kill him. The pack—”
“Is outnumbered. I brought seventy wolves. Magnus has thirty. Math is simple.”
He’s right.
She hears howling outside.
Dozens of wolves. Surrounding the estate.
Magnus’s pack is trapped.
Outmatched.
Astrid stands.
Shaking. Terrified.
“You’ll let them go? If I come with you?”
“No!” Magnus shifts human. “Don’t even consider it!”
“You’ll die if I don’t—”
“I’ll die protecting you! That’s my purpose! Don’t take that from me!”
Fenrir laughs.
“How touching. Romeo is willing to die for his Juliet. Unfortunately, tragedy isn’t my style. I prefer victory.”
He signals.
More wolves pour in.
Too many.
Overwhelming.
Magnus’s pack is being slaughtered.
Astrid gathers power.
All of it.
Everything Odin taught.
Everything her bloodline carries.
She screams.
One word.
Filled with absolute authority.
“STOP!”
The room explodes with light.
Silver. Blinding. Pure.
Duchess power manifesting.
Full force.
Every wolf freezes.
Forced. Instant. Complete submission.
Both packs.
On their knees.
Unable to move.
Astrid’s glowing.
Silver eyes blazing with ancient magic.
The power is terrifying.
Overwhelming.
And completely hers.
She walks to Fenrir.
He’s trying to resist.
Can’t.
Alpha or not. He’s wolf.
And she’s duchess.
“You want me? You’ll never have me. I command you: Leave this place. Never return. Never threaten me or my pack again.”
“Your pack?” He gasps. “You haven’t chosen Magnus—”
“I choose ME. My power. My authority. And I command you to leave. NOW!”
Her power surges.
Forcing him backward.
Step by step.
Out of the room. Down the stairs. Out of the house.
His pack follows.
Pulled by duchess authority.
Unable to resist.
They flee into the forest.
Howling in defeat.
Astrid collapses.
Power depleted.
Exhausted.
Magnus catches her.
Still in human form.
“You did it. You commanded both packs. That’s alpha-level duchess power.”
“I didn’t choose you—”
“You called us your pack. That’s choosing. Even if you don’t realize it yet.”
She’s too tired to argue.
Too drained to fight.
She passes out.
In Magnus’s arms.
Safe.
Finally safe.
She wakes in her bed.
Morning light streaming in.
Body aching. Head pounding.
The power took everything.
Vega’s sitting beside her.
“Welcome back.”
“What happened?”
“You unleashed full duchess power. Commanded both packs. Drove Fenrir away. Then collapsed. Magnus has been guarding you all night.”
Astrid looks around.
Magnus is asleep in a chair.
Still naked. Still vigilant even in sleep.
Protecting her.
“He wouldn’t leave,” Vega explains. “Wouldn’t let anyone else guard you. Said if Fenrir returned, he’d be the first line of defense.”
Astrid watches him sleep.
Vulnerable. Exhausted. Loyal.
He almost died for her.
His entire pack almost died.
Because she refused to choose.
Put everyone at risk.
For her stubborn independence.
“I’m an idiot,” she whispers.
“No. You’re scared. There’s a difference.”
“I almost got people killed—”
“Fenrir almost got people killed. You saved them. Using duchess power. Protecting your pack.”
“They’re not my pack. I haven’t bonded—”
“They’re yours the moment you claimed them. Magnus heard it. We all did. ‘My pack.’ That’s choosing.”
Did she really say that?
She doesn’t remember.
Power haze blurs everything.
Magnus wakes.
Instantly alert.
“You’re awake.”
“How long was I out?”
“Twelve hours. Odin said power depletion causes that. You’ll be weak for days.”
“Fenrir—”
“Is gone. But not defeated. He’ll return. Stronger. Angrier. You humiliated him. Forced submission publicly. He won’t forget.”
“Good.”
Magnus smiles.
Surprised.
“Good?”
“He deserves humiliation. After what he did to my parents. To your pack. To me. He deserves worse.”
“We’ll give him worse. When you’re ready.”
Silence.
Astrid processing.
Finally: “I called you my pack.”
“You did.”
“Does that mean…?”
“Means you’re accepting the bond. Subconsciously. Your soul recognizes what your mind is fighting.”
“I’m still not ready to bond.”
“I know. And I’m not pushing. But know this: you saved us last night. Protected us. That’s what mates do. What pack leaders do. You’re already duchess. Already choosing. Just need to make it official.”
“Before full moon.”
“Six days. Yes.”
He stands.
“I’ll give you space. But I’m not leaving the estate. Fenrir proved you need protection. I’m staying whether you want me to or not.”
“That’s not asking—”
“I’m not asking. I’m telling. Deal with it.”
He leaves.
Stubborn alpha.
Infuriating. Protective. Right.
She does need protection.
Hates needing it.
But facts are facts.
Vega helps her downstairs.
The house is destroyed.
Broken windows. Blood stains. Furniture shredded.
Magnus’s pack is repairing.
Working without being asked.
Rebuilding.
They stop when she enters.
All of them.
Drop to one knee.
Respectful. Reverent.
“Duchess.”
They’re claiming her too.
Pack acceptance.
Whether she’s bonded or not.
She doesn’t know what to say.
How to respond.
So she nods.
Acknowledges them.
They return to work.
Satisfied.
She has their loyalty.
Now she just needs to accept it.
Accept Magnus.
Accept fate.
Six days.
Full moon.
Choice becomes unavoidable.
That night, Magnus sleeps in the library.
Close enough to protect. Far enough to give space.
Astrid’s in her room.
Thinking.
About the bond. The power. The future.
Magnus almost died for her.
Would have died.
Without hesitation.
That’s not manipulation.
That’s love.
Real. Sacrificial. Unconditional.
Can she love him back?
Does she already?
The bond pulls.
Constant. Insistent.
Maybe that’s love.
Maybe it’s just biology.
Hard to tell the difference.
But looking at him…
The way he protects. Respects boundaries. Fights for her.
Maybe that’s enough.
Maybe love grows from respect.
From loyalty.
From choice.
Even fate-mandated choice.
Five days until full moon.
Five days to decide.
Accept Magnus.
Or doom them both.
Simple choice.
Impossible choice.
The only choice she has left.
And she’s running out of time.
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