Einar sat silently across from me, his weathered hands spread across the map on the table. The flickering torchlight illuminated his serious expression, making the lines on his face appear deeper. He was taking his time, something he rarely did unless the conversation was important.
"There's one more thing you need to know," he finally said, his voice quieter than before.
I leaned back, crossing my arms. "What now?"
Einar hesitated, his sharp eyes locking onto mine. "They call it MATE."
I frowned. "Mate? What does that mean?"
"It's the concept of soul mates among werewolves," he explained, his tone even. "But it's not just romantic, Sigrid. It's deeper—primal. This bond isn't just emotional; it's physical and instinctual. It defines their existence."
I let out a short laugh, more bitter than amused. "So, wild beasts like them believe in love stories? That's rich."
Einar didn't smile. He didn't even blink. "It's not about love," he said firmly. "It's about survival. This bond is so strong that losing a MATE can destroy a werewolf. Some go mad, uncontrollable. Others simply give up and die."
His words hung heavy in the air. I straightened in my seat, gripping the edge of the table. "So it's a weakness?"
Einar tilted his head slightly. "For some, yes. But for an alpha like Fenrir? It's not a weakness—it's a weapon."
The name alone made my stomach churn. I clenched my jaw, the familiar burn of anger rising in my chest. "A weapon? How?"
Einar leaned forward, his voice dropping lower. "Fenrir is unlike any other alpha. He doesn't just act on instinct. He's cunning, strategic. If he finds his MATE, he'll use that bond to solidify his power. A MATE can make him stronger—physically, emotionally, even politically within his pack."
I gripped my spear tightly, the wood creaking under my fingers. "And has he found one?"
Einar shook his head slowly. "Not yet. But he's looking. And he's not just searching blindly—he's searching for something special."
My heart skipped a beat, though I tried to hide it. "Special?" I asked, forcing my voice to remain steady.
"When Fenrir attacked Vardhall ten years ago," Einar began, his voice heavy with memory, "he wasn't just destroying a city. He was hunting for something—or someone."
The words hit me like a blow to the chest. Memories of that night surged forward, unbidden: the fire, the screams, the blood.
"You think he's looking for me?" I asked, my voice sharp with disbelief. "That's insane, Einar. I'm just an ordinary human."
Einar didn't flinch. "You're not ordinary, Sigrid. Out of all the lives he destroyed that night, you were the only one who survived. That's not a coincidence."
I shot to my feet, my chair scraping loudly against the stone floor. "So what? Are you saying he left me alive because he wants me? That's absurd!"
Einar stood too, his calm voice cutting through my rising anger. "I'm not saying it makes sense, Sigrid. I'm saying it's possible. Fenrir sees something in you—something even you might not understand yet."
I turned away, pacing to the other side of the room. My hands trembled as I gripped the spear leaning against the wall. "I don't care what he sees or what he wants," I spat. "He destroyed everything. He killed my family. That's all I need to know."
Einar stepped closer, his tone softening. "Sigrid, your hatred for Fenrir is your strength, but it's also your greatest weakness. If you don't learn to control it, he will use it against you."
I spun around to face him, my voice cold and sharp. "I don't need to understand him, Einar. I just need to kill him."
Einar sighed, his expression a mix of frustration and pity. "I know you think that's enough. But defeating Fenrir isn't just about strength. It's about strategy. You can't fight him blind. You have to know your enemy—how he thinks, what drives him, and where his weaknesses lie. If he truly believes you're his MATE, that knowledge could give you an edge."
I glared at him, the fire in my chest burning brighter. "It doesn't matter what he thinks," I said quietly. "He'll die just like the rest of his pack."
---
Einar stepped back, watching me carefully. "There's more you need to know about Fenrir, Sigrid. He isn't just powerful because he's strong. He's powerful because of his pack. The bond he shares with them—it's unbreakable."
I frowned. "You've already told me about the hierarchy. What else is there?"
Einar picked up the map from the table, pointing to the vast territory marked with Fenrir's symbol. "His pack doesn't just follow him out of fear. They follow him because of his bond as their alpha. He has a mental connection to every member of his pack. It's what makes him so dangerous. He doesn't need to be physically present to command them—they hear him, feel him, even from miles away."
My grip tightened on the spear. "And if he dies?"
Einar gave a small nod. "If Fenrir falls, the bond will break. The pack will collapse. But don't think it will be easy. His pack will protect him with their lives. Killing Fenrir means going through every single one of them."
I clenched my jaw, the weight of his words pressing down on me. "Then I'll go through them," I said, my voice like steel.
Einar studied me, his eyes searching for any sign of hesitation. When he found none, he gave a faint smile. "I believe you will try, Sigrid. But remember—this isn't just your fight. It's all of ours. Don't let your anger blind you to that."
---
**End of Chapter**
I turned toward the door, my steps deliberate and heavy. Einar's voice stopped me just as I reached the threshold.
"Sigrid," he called, his tone softer now. "This isn't just about revenge. It's about survival. Don't forget that."
I paused but didn't look back. "I know," I said quietly, before stepping into the cold, dimly lit corridor.