Sirius returned from the conversation about the realms, overwhelmed by the thought that his wife could be anywhere—possibly even in a different realm. The idea haunted him: Saoirse, vulnerable, lost, naked. But worse, Sirius was still convinced that she could be pregnant. Whether she wanted to deny it or not, unless she quit throwing up, he couldn't let the idea go.
Her absence gnawed at him. For the first time since they had been bonded, he felt nothing from her emotions. No fear, no pain—just an aching void. It worried him deeply. Either she was very far away, or she had found some way to block him out.
Sirius looked at Lachlan, who had fallen asleep during the discussion. He needed Saoirse just as much as the baby in her womb did. They had promised they would have him grow up with a mother and a father. He couldn't fail him now. Sirius carried him down the hall to his apartment. As he walked, his thoughts lingered on the startling revelation the Beta had shared, that history had more to it than he knew. He had finally heard the werewolves' side.
"Asgard…" he muttered. He had never dreamt he would go there, let alone meet someone with connections to it. In truth, he had never expected to leave North Banes—at least not until he defeated his father. But now, because of Saoirse, he was part of a world far larger than his own.
The name Asgard stirred memories of his father's stories about the Great War in the heavens.
Werewolves had been Loki's creation, born of chaos and ambition. At first, they thrived under his protection. They were welcomed in Asgard as the descendants of Odin's adopted son. Loki, ever the dutiful pawn, had married a Jotuun woman, one from his own race- to unite the realms, fulfilling Odin's grand design to stop territorial disputes between the two races of diety. But from their union came three children: Hel, Fenrir, and Jormungandr.
And even though the war had ended, the Aesir persecuted them. The taunting bred resentment. Fenrir, the first werewolf, grew tired of being treated as a lesser being. Jormungandr, the great serpent, shared his fury. Together, they sowed discord among their kin, teaching their descendants to rebel and destroy.
And Loki's children were powerful—and dangerous.
"The Great War in the heavens returned, only this time it occurred on the Aesir's home soil. The Great War that resulted in the fall of Loki's children; the tragedy of Fenrir and Jormungandr." His father's voice echoed in his memory, painting the scene with grim detail.
Sirius could almost see it: the fires of Asgard, the skies choked with smoke and ash, the ground littered with the broken bodies of gods and goddesses and other entities. Nefilheim, the realm of the dead, had struggled to contain the souls of their victims. And through it all, Loki, also the only God who could see time, had smiled. He declared a prophecy that hung over the Aesir like a curse.
"The great wolf and the great dragon will one day return," Loki had said, "and they will bring about the downfall of the Aesir."
It wasn't just a warning—it was revenge. It was a call to arms for his sons. Chaos became their legacy, their hallmark.
Before even Alastor had been born, monsters and werewolves alike wrought devastation across all of Asgard.
Odin, enraged by their rebellion, cast them down to Midgard, trapping them in human bodies. This curse stripped them of their full divine power, making them mortal and forcing them to live among weaker, magic-deprived humans. Loki's legacy was doomed to be lesser than the Aesir, and even Loki himself was no longer welcome in Asgard. Especially Loki.
Eventually the great wolf and the great serpent were captured. Odin couldn't kill them but he chained them up in the roots of Yggdrasil. The tree that made up all of the realms. Yggdrasil would bind them forever.
Sirius had heard this story many times before. The vampires hated Odin for their cursed state. Werewolves, too, had suffered under Odin's judgment, but the Beta had revealed something Sirius had never known:
Not all werewolves had been cast out.
A brave she-wolf named Nanna had pledged loyalty to Odin and convinced him to allow some werewolves to remain in Asgard. She became a symbol of redemption, leading a faction of wolves who worshipped Mani, the moon god. These wolves were spared the curse of death and granted a place in Asgard.
This revelation shook Sirius. He had always believed that no matter what he did in life, he would be reincarnated endlessly, a creature of chaos destined to live without consequences. But the Beta had explained that the werewolves' religion—the worship of Mani and Nanna—promised a different fate. Those who lived and died with honor could escape the cycle of reincarnation and find peace in Asgard.
In that moment, Sirius felt a flicker of hope. Perhaps Linus had truly made it to that utopia. It was a comforting thought. The wolves of Asgard, loyal to Mani and Nanna, were free from the curse of chaos. They had found redemption. And the beta just so happened to be the moon goddess' brother.
As Sirius opened the door to the apartment, his skin pricked a bit as if he felt someone running away. He looked down the hallway and there was no one.
" Ok Lachlan, you rest well. Tonight is going to be a big night." Sirius said, "Tonight, the Beta will be taking us to Asgard."