Bonds of Blood and Fire

Astrid's POV

Bonds of Blood and Fire

My name is Astrid Lodbrok, the only daughter of Alpha King Harald Lodbrok, and I hail from the Lodbrok werewolf clan. As a member of the Viking werewolf pack, we stand at the pinnacle of power, ruling over all other werewolf clans. Our pack is feared by all; our longevity seems near-eternal, our strength is unmatched, and our lineage traces directly back to the great Thorstein Lodbrok, the first alpha who conquered the original seven werewolf packs. Yet, even with all that, we are not immortal, and our power is not absolute. Only Berserker Steel is capable of piercing our hearts and ending our lives.

But even among a pack of werewolves with such immense power, there are still those who are seen as almost worthless—mere dogs would have more value than this very class. Yes, as a werewolf, our importance is rated based on hierarchy—whether you are an Alpha, Beta, Gamma, or even the lowest of all, my very own class, the Omega.

Alpha King Harald Lodbrok, my father, has ruled and kept the pack at peace for centuries. But his time is drawing to a close, now that he is over 800 years old, though he remains wise beyond measure. Since I am an Omega and could not bear an Alpha for my father after several attempts, even going against my marital bounds, his successor is to be my one-time lover, my Uncle Ragnar, the only Alpha capable of taking the throne after him.

Despite their past undying and relentless disputes, my father and Ragnar had reconciled—a fragile peace sealed, or perhaps purchased, by a tragic and strategic marriage.

Ragnar's beloved wife, Ingrid Eiriksdottir, died in battle while pregnant with his child. She had been sent by my father, the Alpha king, on what was supposed to be an easy mission, but Ingrid fell to a precise Berserker Steel arrow. Her wolf, Vhagar, incinerated their enemies, but it was too late for Ingrid. She died in Ragnar's arms, whispering her love and apologies for not giving him another child.

It was said that in his grief, Ragnar transformed into his true form, a gigantic white wolf with violet eyes, and went to his enemy's territory to slaughter them all.

My father, understanding the depth of his brother's pain and knowing this might heighten the enmity between them, offered a desperate solution to maintain peace. He gave Ragnar his only daughter, me, in marriage—the very same me that he had fought against him for, using his power as the Alpha king to ensure we never happened.

Looking at the situation, I knew that Ragnar's once love for me had faded away, replaced by resentment. I knew he only wanted to exact revenge on my father through me. But as an Omega, I had no say, not even over my own life. I accepted my fate with silent resignation. The wedding was held at Dragonstone, a grand celebration to quench the rumors of the brothers' conflict.

As the celebration continued, my children—Bjorn, Leif, and Styrbjorn—watched as I was given away to their granduncle. I also didn't fail to notice Ragnar's daughters, Thyra and Solveig, dancing with their new stepbrothers, whom I had always known were in love with.

The guests at the event couldn't help but murmur about my beauty and the sadness in my eyes. It was obvious; I was the scapegoat, a prize exchanged to save a pack.

As an Omega, after the marriage, I was officially Ragnar's property; he could do with me as he wished, and no one had the right to question him because he owned me. That night, after the celebration and the gruesome, painful lovemaking, I could not stand being the property of anyone, so I fled in my original form—a small white wolf with violet eyes. I ran toward the dragon lairs, hoping to escape with my dragon Syrax. But Ragnar transformed into his wolf form and chased me down. He never stopped until I was captured. Captured and beaten down, I let out a pitiful wail that echoed through the night before silence fell.

"You dare try to flee from me? Your husband and lord?" Ragnar growled coldly, his voice deep and hoarse. Knowing that I would always want to escape his cold grip, Ragnar marked me at the back of my neck that night, ensuring that all who saw me would recognize me as his property. Unlike my previous husband, Eirik Eiriksdottir, who was a Beta and did not mark his mate, Ragnar's mark was a warning to anyone who might dare approach me.

The marking had several meanings: it was a symbol of ownership and also of protection, a deterrent against any thoughts of infidelity.

Months passed, and the pack watched as the brothers maintained what seemed like a fragile peace. My pain and Ragnar's ruts synchronized; this had now become a biological inevitability that bound us further. I dreaded Ragnar, not out of hatred, but because of the vengeful man he had become. Our wedding night was a brutal reminder of the loss and pain that defined our union; I wished for nothing more than to escape from the monster he had become.

I confided in Rolo Irk, a loyal royal guard. I knew that Rolo would understand my plight; even though he was a Beta, his love life was similar to mine, which was why I met him. Our conversations were a brief respite from the reality of my situation. Rolo was hopelessly in love with Queen Freydis Bloodaxe, my stepmother, and friend; he indeed understood the pain of impossible love.

Rolo questioned me about Harwin Strong, the rumored father of my children. "Tell me about Harwin Strong; I heard he is the father of your three sons. Why didn't you marry him after..." he said, breaking at the end—he never wanted to say the last thing, and I understood. I admitted the obvious but made him know that our relationship was clearly political—a means to secure heirs for my house, a desperate but failed attempt to raise an Alpha for my father. I was honest about the feelings I once had for Ragnar, knowing they no longer mattered. After listening to my stories, Rolo Irk felt my pain, and he helped me escape.

When Ragnar returned to the palace and discovered my absence, his fury knew no bounds. He extracted all the information he needed from Queen Freydis, threatening to take the lives of her children. With Berserker Steel at Helaena's chest, and knowing that Ragnar was not the kind to bluff, Freydis broke, spilling all she knew. She revealed to him that I had fled to the Free Cities with Ser Rolo.

Ragnar's rage was palpable. He left to find me, ignoring my father Harald's pleas for mercy. To Ragnar, I was his, and Ser Rolo's interference was a death sentence. He could not tolerate the defiance of his marked mate.

In the Free Cities, Ser Rolo and I sought refuge. We lived in constant fear of discovery, knowing Ragnar would come for us. My mind was torn between duty and the desire for freedom. I had accepted my fate, but I had not expected to find myself longing for love from Ragnar, even though it seemed impossible for him to ever feel any ounce of love again.

One night, as we sat by a fire in our improvised shelter, Ser Rolo asked me, "Do you ever miss Harwin Strong?", believed that I must have had feelings for Harwin to have three children with him despite being married at that time.

I sighed, "I didn't love him as everyone thought. Our relationship was merely political. He wasn't married as of then, and I needed children which Eirik, my husband, could never give me. I needed children for my house and the Eiriksdottir house."

Ser Rolo nodded, understanding the weight of my words. "Ok, but are you still in love with Prince Ragnar?" he asked again.

I blushed, my eyes reflecting the flames. "Does it matter if he doesn't love me anymore?" I asked him. But of course, I do love him. Every day I pray that he returns to his real self. By real self, I meant the man I used to know him to be, not this vengeful monster he had become.

You see, Ragnar and I were once madly in love; Ragnar wanted me for a wife, but my father Harald stood against it. This was the birth of the feud between them. Both of them had to fight for me, and my father defeated Ragnar. Years later, Ragnar and I married different people and had children. But fate brought us back together after the deaths of our spouses. But this time, we were no longer together for love, but for the opposite reason.