C68 The Einherjars Curse

This… this wasn't in the f*cking script I wrote.

"What do you take me for?!"

She continued, eyes blazing with psionic energy.

"First you shoot my leg, then you f*ck me senseless, after that, you give me the silent treatment for months, and then you f*ck me again, AND NOW you're giving a ride to some random pampered skank?!"

Her voice grew sharper, laced with something beyond just rage, something more raw, more human.

"DO YOU THINK I WON'T DARE CUT OFF YOUR BALLS THE NEXT TIME I HAVE TO PATCH YOU UP ONCE YO UCOME BACK FROM ANOTHER ONE OF YOURE SPACE ADVENTURES?!"

She yanked me closer, her grip tightening, and for the first time in a long, long while, I found myself momentarily dumbfounded.

Because this wasn't normal.

Catherines awakening wasn't supposed to have reached this degree, not yet. The strength she was displaying, the sheer force of will radiating from her, it was beyond the limits I had written for her for this time period.

Which left me with only one explanation.

I f*cked up. Big time. Then I bought those Industry blueprints. I used far more system power than I should have, and now… the ERC was fighting back.

I let out a slow exhale, locking eyes with her, still, I wasn't one to back down not after ewrything Ive been through so far. Even with her practically snarling in my face, I maintained my smirk, completely unfazed.

"You've really been keeping track, huh?"

I mused, voice low, amused.

"Didn't take you for the sentimental type, Cat."

Her grip tightened, I could hear the leather of my collar creak under the pressure.

"Don't test me asshole,"

She growled.

"Not today."

"Or what?"

I taunted, my grin widening.

"You'll actually follow through on your threat this time?"

For a moment, we locked eyes, unyielding. The tension between us crackled like lightning, her body radiating psionic energy in waves. I could feel her anger, her frustration, her confusion.

Then, just as suddenly, her grip loosened. Her expression flickered, just for a second as if she herself realized what she had just done.

And then just as If nothing happened she stood up while clutching her head In pain, looking confused as If someone deleted a couple minutes of her memory.

"Imperator Im going to take a nap Im not feeling so good..."

She muttered as she entered the side room.

...

Lucilia no, Catherine collapsed onto the bed, but she didn't fall into simple unconsciousness. She fell through time.

Like shattered glass piecing itself back together, memories she never knew existed flooded her mind. It wasn't a dream. It wasn't a hallucination.

It was her true past. And it all began with betrayal of her own blood. She remembered her own father wanting to sell her off like common cattle to settle his corporate debt.

Her blood turned to ice. She had known they were desperate, but this, this was something she never expected.

They were selling her. But as fate would have it, just before her father could hand her over, her eyes landed on something. A recruitment ad. Bold letters. A snarling wolf emblem.

"THE IRON FENRIRS WANT YOU! JOIN NOW!"

That was it. That was her way out. Before the contract could be finalized, she did the only thing she could. She signed up.

The Iron Fenrirs weren't just mercenaries. They were already legends. Soldiers of fortune without masters. Wolves who answered to no one but their own.

And they didn't take in weaklings.

The boot camp was brutal. She was pushed past every limit she thought she had. For g*ds sake the maniac that called himself dracula von death a wana be vampire even shot her as a lesson.

The she remembered the life onboard Invicta which wasn't just a frigate class warship. It was home.

The smell of gunpowder and oil in the air. The sound of combat boots clanking against steel floors. The endless hum of the reactor core deep within the ship's belly.

It was chaos. It was order. It was freedom. Her first days were harsh. She wasn't just given a weapon and sent to fight she had to earn her place.

And that meant training under Drac the drill seargent from hell himself.

She hated him at first. He was a narcissistic asshole. Brutal. Demanding. He never let her rest, never let her slack, always pushed her past her limits.

But beneath the arrogance, beneath the smirks and taunts, there was something else. A wolf that saw another wolf in her. And that changed everything.

One thing led to another, particulally hers, Morganas, Yin and Yangs drunken revenge plan that backfired gloriuosly with them four ending up ran through the demon s*x engine from hell aka Drac.

She remembered the first time she saved him fro mthe brink of death, It was supposed to be a routine investigation gig. Just another job.

Then the ambush happened.

Explosions ripped through Invicta's hull. Gunfire echoed through the halls. The enemy had boarded the ship, and the battle turned into a brutal meat grinder.

Drac was everywhere cutting down foes with his blade, dodging gunfire with inhuman reflexes, moving like a storm given flesh.

Until one of them got a lucky shot straight Into his eye socket but the cockroach that Drac was didnt give up even then he still killed the man.

And after that got rushed to the medbay, she remembered her bloody hands, the dimming vitals and her decision to use the organs from the recently deceased to stabilize him and It worked.

She remembered the feeling of almost going Insane even after the brutal training she was put through after encountering the nightmare that was war.

That was the first time she patched him up. But it wouldn't be the last. Years passed. Battles were fought. Victories piled up.

Under Drac's command, the Iron Fenrirs didn't just survive, they thrived. They became more than a mercenary outfit.

They became a force feared across the galaxy. A legion. A band of brothers and sisters that answered to no one. A pack of wolves that no one dared challenge.

With their own planet, their own armada, their own economy, they weren't just hired guns anymore. They were kings without a crown. And through it all, Catherine was there.

By his side. The one who stitched his wounds. The one who whispered plans in his ear. The one who kept him from losing himself.

Because no matter how many women he bedded, no matter how much blood he spilled, no matter how insufferable he was…

He was still hers. Her Iron Wolf. And together, they built something unstoppable. Then it all fell apart.

It started as a rumor. Then stars began to die. It was a nightmare made flesh. A cosmic event that swept through the entire galaxy, wiping out everything in its path.

They fought. They resisted. They lost. One by one, the Iron Fenrirs were annihilated. She fell. Their daughter, Flavia that shared the same name as her current one, fell.

Drac lost everything. And he went mad. He should have died. But he didn't. Instead, he became something else. He became the second reincarnation of Einherjar.

No longer a man, but a force of pure artificial destruction created through occult, science and psionic energy created for a pampered gaian princess to be her dog only to become a forbidden existence that even the nightmares hiding In the fourth dimension dared speak his name.

And if the universe had taken everything from him…

Then he would take everything from the universe. He went from galaxy to galaxy, wiping out all life in a deranged frenzy.

Until existence itself feared him. Until reality itself was forced to act. And so, the universe turned back time.

Reset everything. And now, here she was. Here he was. Living as if he hadn't once devoured the stars themselves.

But now she remembered. Catherine Belmot gasped awake. Her entire body that had grown to 180 centimeters ahead of time trembled, sweat dripping from her skin.

The residual psionic energy that had wrapped around her vanished. And the first thing she did. The first thing she growled. Was.

"Drac, you g**ddamn f*cker... I'm gonna fcking kill you."

Her fists clenched. Her heart pounded. The f*cker had no idea what was coming. But he was about to find out.

...

MC POV.

The process of getting ready for a royal ball was already a pain in the ass. First, there was the damn service uniform.

Tailored to perfection, sharp enough to make even the King himself look underdressed, and yet unbearably stiff.

Why the f*ck did I have to design It like this?!

Second, the diplomatic bullsh*t. I could already see it, the endless toasts, the fake smiles, the political maneuvering disguised as polite conversation.

And third...

BAM!

The side room door snapped open so violently it nearly flew off its hinges. I turned around on instinct, eyes narrowing, only for every single thought in my mind to freeze.