The Chase

Astrid's POV

The Chase

Enigmas rarely marked anyone. They believed no one was worthy of their claim. Yet, Ragnar had marked me. If he indeed was an enigma, then I am finished.

Possessive. Cruel. Territorial. Sadistic. Those words represent all that an Enigma stood for. And if I bore his mark, then that spells doom for me.

I wouldn't even have a voice before him.

Enigmas could induce heat, even in an Alpha if they wished. They could make anyone fertile for them, even horny against their will. That was why he had managed to have two daughters with his former mate. That was why he had gotten her pregnant twice, despite how impossible it was for an Alpha and a Delta to conceive.

Because Ragnar wasn't just any Alpha, he was an Enigma.

And now it was clear, but I had already been marked by him, by an enigma, something I had thought was only but a legend.

Hakon's POV

Ragnar would regain control over himself soon, but he would never be the Alpha the pack once knew. His true nature had awakened. Now, the pack would understand what that meant.

My breath was shallow as I followed the familiar scent of my daughter, my mind was racing with the consequences of my own choices, my very own actions. I had spent years securing my family's survival, making careful moves to solidify my power. But this...this was beyond anything I had foreseen.

I prayed that Freydis, my only daughter, had the sense to step aside.

But it was too late.

In my desperation to rid the pack of Astrid before she gets pregnant for Ragnar, I had placed my own daughter in danger.

The scent of violence thickened even more inside the great hall. Instinct screamed at Astrid to move. I saw the moment she realized it, the way her body tensed, muscles coiled like a spring about to snap.

Then, without a second thought, she shoved Freydis aside.

"Freydis, move!" she hissed, with her voice barely above a whisper, yet sharp as a blade.

Freydis stumbled, confusion widening her eyes. "Astrid, what are you doing?"

"Hide," Astrid ordered. "Stay away from me. He's coming for me."

Freydis hesitated for only a moment. But Astrid didn't have time to wait. She turned and ran.

Astrid's POV

I shifted mid-stride, with my paws barely touching the cold stone floor as I sprinted toward the exit, my heart was seriously hammering against my ribs.

The night air hit me like a slap, but I barely had a second to register the fleeting sense of hope before...

I felt it... Something was wrong.

The ground was literally trembling beneath me as if something ancient and powerful had awakened. A force pressed down on me, dark and suffocating, wrapping around me like an invisible chain. My instincts screamed in warning.

Then, before I could react, a massive shadow descended.

It was a hulking wolf, larger than any I had ever seen, it moved with terrifying precision, cutting off my escape. His midnight-black fur gleamed beneath the pale moonlight, his body was indeed radiating with raw dominance.

It was Ragnar, none other than him. He didn't snarl. He didn't growl. He didn't need to. He was already intimidating enough. His presence alone was a command.

A cold bolt of terror shot through me at this instinct, but it was too late. His jaws had already clamped onto the mark on my neck.

Pain tore through me, a strangled howl ripping from my throat as my body convulsed beneath the sheer force of his dominance. My vision blurred as every nerve in my body ignited.

That wasn't just a bite. It was more, as a matter of fact, it was a claim.

Quickly, I felt the raw energy surge between us, overwhelming and inescapable. It coiled around me, seeping into my very soul, a force stronger than any logic or willpower I had left.

When he finally released me, my legs were already buckled. I was gasping for breath, as my body trembled violently.

Now his dark eyes locked onto mine, but there was no cruelty there. No mercy either.

Then, without a word, he nudged me forward.

Back toward the heart of the pack.

The command was unspoken but absolute.

I tried to fight it, but my body betrayed me. My feet moved on their own, carrying me down the halls I had once thought of as a prison. My mind screamed at me to resist, but the bond that pulsed between us was alive, powerful, and undeniable.

I stumbled into his chambers with a ragged voice, my spirit was still flickering under the weight of what had just happened.

Ragnar shifted first, his human form was just as commanding as his wolf.

I forced myself to shift as well, my skin prickled under his watchful gaze.

Then, in a heartbeat, he was in front of me again.

Now, his hands found my face. His touch was firm and possessive. Not cruel. But... something far more dangerous.

For the first time, I lowered my gaze. I couldn't look him in the eye. I had never done that before. Somehow, I felt so, loyal, too humble.

The realization hit me like a blow. My defiance, my fire, they all flickered beneath the sheer force of his will.

No! This wasn't normal.

I knew this wasn't normal.

I searched his face, desperate to find something of the Ragnar I once knew.

The teasing warmth in his eyes, the smirk that used to make my stomach flip even though I always hid it, the rare moments of tenderness he had allowed only me to see...

Gone. All was gone, no trace of any.

In their place was something darker. Something raw.

Possessiveness. Dominance. An unrelenting hunger. And something else I can't really tell, but I knew as far more dangerous.

"You are mine, Astrid," Ragnar murmured, his voice low and absolute. "You always have been."

Hearing him say this, a shudder ran through me. Not from fear. But from something far more dangerous.

The bond kept pulsing, primal and unyielding, pulling at something deep within me. I wanted to fight it. The old gods knew that I wanted to push him away.

But I couldn't. Not like this.

"Please," I whispered, my voice barely audible. "Don't hurt me." I pleaded. This was something I never knew I would ever do, even as an omega.

For the briefest moment, something flickered in his expression.

Hesitation.

Restraint.

Then his lips crashed against mine.

The kiss wasn't gentle. It was a battle, a war between dominance and surrender. A clash of wills neither of us fully understood.

My hands found his shoulders, half in protest, half in desperate need. The taste of him, the force of his presence, sent my senses spiraling.

There was no escaping him.

There never had been.

I hated to. The fact that, somehow, I needed him. Was that really me? Or was he inducing my wetness and cravings?