Why Are Ragnar's Eyes So Blue Novels & Stories

So, seeing him sitting dazed on the woodland floor, cradling his torn-up and bloodied arm, I knew instantly that something wasn't right. The moment I gazed into that mega wolf's eyes; I knew it was Freya. I mean it had to be, or at the very least another hunter. See, it had eyes exactly the same as our own. They were ice blue in color, and they had our signature white vortex swirling around the pupil. There was no way that any hunter could say that they didn't recognize them eyes, we all have them just before we ascend.

I ran to the door and gave it a hard kick, stubbing my toe in the process. “Ow!” He opened the door and threw my clothes in my face. I looked at him incredulously. He just slammed the door again. So infuriating! Moments later, I stood in front of the mirror, properly dressed in my maids’ uniform. I combed my fingers through my golden-brown hair, and began braiding it gently. I stared into the mirror and soft blue eyes stared back. I had always wondered why my eyes were blue instead of brown. As a regular wolf, it was expected for me to have brown-coloured eyes. High-ranked wolves were the kinds that usually bore different colours of eyes, from beautiful hazel browns to blues to greens. Regul

But now, Fenrir has returned—and his eyes are blue. Not just any blue. A brilliant, vibrant, electric blue that doesn’t merely glow—it moves, swirling like a live current of energy, as if lightning itself pulses within them. My mind stumbles over the impossibility, struggling to process what I’ve just seen. This isn’t normal. It isn’t natural. Is this some side effect of Fenrir being locked away for so long? Has his isolation twisted him into something else entirely? This can’t be real.

She looked ethereal, untouchable. Ragnar’s gaze caught on her eyes reflected in the mirror. Not the soft green he was used to, but sharp, luminous blue, cutting, piercing, otherworldly. She noticed him. And she smiled. A simple curve of lips, yet it pierced deeper than any blade. The fury in him cracked, twisted into something darker, heavier, colder, ruthless. The need to claim her wholly, so no one, not Atlas, not fate itself, could ever take her from him, slowly faded into something ominous. This wasn't Freya facing him.

Those gorgeous, stormy eyes of his closing. It still bothered me how similar his eyes were to Nikolai’s. As creepy as it was, I knew it could only be coincidence. Nikolai was a human for goodness’ sake! Ragnar was a wolfdog. Though, those eyes of Ragnar’s were intelligent and could damn near see straight through to the soul. Ragnar bopped my hand with his wet nose as I walked by. Picking up the platter of cookies I’d baked during the wee hours of the morning—and decided to take with me as a peace offering to Nikolai—I headed for the front door.

That I didn’t take earning a higher rank in the pack more seriously. Still, none of it makes sense. I’m not the type to hold hostage. There’s nothing special about me. Except my eyes. They’re the only thing that makes me an anomaly. Where it’s common in other canines to have mismatched eyes, it’s exceedingly rare in wolf shifters. My parents have never seen one with eyes like mine, nor had their parents before them. My left eye an ice blue, nearly blending with the snow, polar opposite that of my right, so dark I’d be convinced it was ebony if not for the flecks of gold sprinkled like stars. No matter how rare I may be, it shouldn’t be enough to kidnap me.

Ragnar's POV I could still taste the kiss. It was faint, but I couldn’t shake it. It was still so vivid since it hadn't even been a day since it happened. The warmth of her skin, her messy hair, and those deep blue eyes that made me restless—made her hard to resist. The way she had trembled beneath me—not in desire, but in fear. Dominating her was so easy, and yet. I paused, feeling infuriated by the thought as I slammed my fists against the polished wood of my desk.

However, it wasn’t the same as to what I'm seeing now. There was a boy. I can’t recognize his face because of the weird blurry effect of the dream. The only thing I saw clearly were his eyes. His emerald-colored eyes are still engraved in my mind. Even though it’s already been a year since I last dreamt of it, I still can’t forget his eyes. The scenes may be different to what I'm seeing now, but they were both peculiar and still not on earth.