Centuries ago, war shattered Asgard. Tired of living in the shadow of the Aesir, Loki and his creatures of chaos sought the respect they believed was their due. Their rebellion, however, brought only death, exile, and the fleeting victory of the Aesir. But gods cannot die forever, and Loki’s defeat came with a prophecy: the war would come again, and next time, he would be ready. Many began to question whether Odin was truly fit to rule the realms. (But that was not my concern. I am an entity of death, a Fylgia bound to the cycles of life and fate. My interest lies elsewhere—with two souls cursed by Odin to live, die, and repeat their lonely existence for eternity. Sirius and Saoirse. For centuries, I’ve watched them endure lives destined for isolation and suffering. I’ve grown tired of their pain. What if they didn’t have to be alone? What if I could give them a chance to defy fate? And, perhaps, what if I could become part of the story that I’ve shaped? These were my thoughts leading up to the beginning of this story. But meddling with destiny has consequences. I probably should have paid more attention to that war, because what I didn’t realize was, by changing one thing, a ripple would expand across the realms that nobody could have anticipated.) Sirius and Saoirse, they weren’t just any Vampire and Werewolf that could have been brought together. They are creatures that must come to terms with the demon beasts inside of them or bringing them together might just end up finishing what Loki’s children had started. author note: This story builds a bit slower at the beginning and then picks up more action when they get to Asgard, so don’t worry, this book will have 500 chapters and this is just the beginning!
The seasons blurred together as Sirius watched from the sidelines. The passage of time became a haze, each day folding into the next like the pages of Alastor's favorite book. Sirius felt like a million memories downloaded into his mind and it left him confused as to how long he had been there.
In the mornings, Amali rushed out the door, late for her alarm, as she hurried to eat a piece of toast. Timoteus waited for her there at the bottom of the hill, leaning casually against a tree, tossing a rugby ball in his hands and catching it. Then he would greet her warmly, his broad muscular shoulders wrapping around her as they walked together to school. Her body held snugly in his embrace, the smell of his cologne surrounding her.
Evenings belonged to Alastor. Amali arrived with a stack of books pressed against her chest, her face alight with purpose. Alastor would wait for her on the hill, pacing until he saw her coming and his face would light up, giving her the same toothy grin that Sirius hadn't known he'd gotten from him.
He rubbed his hand across his mouth when he saw this. Feeling like him and his father had anything in common made him feel…uncomfortable. Knowing that he too, had spent hours with his mate, enjoying her embrace while studying, and escaping himself with her, despite living under the wrath of the king, left him wondering what had happened to him to change so much from this wide-eyed boy that he saw right now to the man who had raised him.
As Sirius watched, under the glow of lantern light, she explained equations with a soft patience, her voice full of love. Alastor leaned in closer, his brow furrowed in focus as he traced formulas into his notepad and completed homework assignments. All the while, Sirius realized he was falling for her despite his feelings that their race shouldn't mix.
She dedicated a lot of effort making copies of everything she learned, and secretly recorded lectures for him to hear.
As years passed, the hill transformed. A path wore into the grass from the town Amali lived in, to the forest where Alastor came from. Occasionally, Alastor brought her money and when she returned, she had brought something new for them to learn about.
On one occasion, she bought him a new telescope. Together they set it up on the top of the hill and spent the whole night looking at the stars before curling up next to each other to keep warm and burying their faces in a book, their silhouettes flickering against the tent walls as they turned page after page, often reading until they fell asleep.
Eventually, most days, Amali never even went home, and Sirius felt like she didn't want to. Nobody seemed to notice she was gone either.
The thought crept into Sirius' mind that her home life wasn't that great. Alastor bought her a lot of things that she didn't have, like a coat in the winter and new boots, and sometimes she asked him for money and he gave it to her, not really knowing what it was for, and he didn't care. Sirius got the sense that Amali would have turned out very differently if she hadn't met Sirius' father.
She seemed like the type of girl that would have ended up at parties if she had spent the whole time with Timoteus. He wasn't always the best influence for her.
If Sirius thought she took advantage of Alastor's love, Alastor didn't seem to care. He devoured every word. He savored every second with his girl. This thought went into Sirius' mind for a moment and he quickly dismissed it. Stop it Sirius! Don't fall for his charm, your father is evil! He remembered the way that his father treated Saoirse and reminded himself that his father didn't deserve his pity.
Amali moved effortlessly between worlds. Her laughter echoed through the school halls as she cheered for Timoteus at his games. He was a broad-shouldered and golden-eyed boy. The kind of boy who always seemed larger than life. They were inseparable—partners at dances, the center of every group photo, his family began bringing her with them during school breaks on their pack's seasonal hunts and Alastor wouldn't see her again until school resumed.
Time carved its mark on both boys. Timoteus grew broader, his frame filling out as he trained with his pack, preparing for his role as Alpha. Alastor grew sharper, his features hardening, often when Amali came back from her trips with Timoteus, his once-bright eyes were dimmer, a bit darker, a bit more like the man that Sirius knew.
The two boys were becoming men, and Amali was becoming a woman.
Alastor's father Fenrir, son of Loki was the great wolf who had been rejected by Odin. The first vampire. He was angry and dangerous, and ruthless. He was beginning to put more of a mark on his son, who had kept this whole relationship a secret. He put on a mask of kindness when Amali came to see him, and then returned to being stressed whenever Amali left the hill. At home, he grew colder, more cruel, his father's lessons shaping him into something Amali could barely recognize.
Amali brought something to him that no one else could. And perhaps, Sirius thought, that was the problem.
There was something Alastor didn't understand entirely, or chose to ignore:
By day, Amali was still actually Timoteus' girl. And she was preparing to go to a university. She was kissing Timoteus more often and in her mind, she only had eyes for the one who was cuter, more muscular, and didn't drink blood, and that was Tim.
Alastor began waiting longer between their meetings, and then one day, she didn't return at all.
Alastor waited there on the hill for several hours and frowned. In his gut, he felt that something wasn't right. Tonight, she hadn't given him an excuse at all. It was the only time she just didn't show up.
He had experienced a hard day with his father, his mood was already sour and he had been aching to relieve stress by seeing Amali's bright face, and surrounding himself with her scent. The scent of cinnamon. But that day, instead, she threw the final blow to his heart, and it made him realize that she was finally choosing Timoteus over him, his last grasp of hope was gone.
Frowning in the direction of Amali's home, Alastor began to show the glint of anger that made Sirius' blood run cold.
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