The Wolf God's Unwanted Luna

Vivian’s POV

Seeing the look of absolute shock on my face, Zaliver sighed softly and wrapped his strong arms around me, guiding my head gently to his bare chest. I could hear the steady, powerful beat of his heart under my ear, a grounding rhythm amidst the sudden storm of my thoughts.

"When a female werewolf enters heat," he began gently, his voice rumbling against my cheek, "she feels the effects full force unless her mate helps relieve them. Her scent shifts, drawing in unmated males like moths to a flame. But with you... your scent drives me completely insane. It sends me into a lust haze I can’t fully control. And it seems like my reaction only intensifies your heat. Your shifting into a new form might’ve triggered it too. Interesting."

His tone turned thoughtful at the end, as if he was cataloging this information like some fascinating new discovery.

Of course it was interesting to him. In the end, he got the mate. He got the bond. I was the one with the fire threatening to burn me from the inside out.

I was going into heat. Damn it.

Everything he said aligned with what I already knew. A female in heat went through stages, each more intense than the last, and the only way to cool the blaze was with her mate or medical intervention. Without either, she could be left suffering. Alone. Males didn’t have cycles like this. But they could sense when a female’s heat started, and they usually responded by becoming hyper-focused on mating and producing pups.

But if what Zaliver said was true, then every time I had a flicker of heat and he picked up on it, his reaction would spike mine... and suddenly the spark would explode into a full inferno. A vicious cycle of pheromones and instinct. Great.

Was I ready to mate?

The question felt like a heavy weight in my chest. I didn’t even know how to answer it. My emotions were a whirlwind: part fear, part longing, part sheer confusion. I’d gone through my first heat at sixteen, and I remembered the pain like it was yesterday. It was nothing like the soft ache of cramps. It was brutal. Like being lit on fire from the inside, then blasted with freezing pressure. Like every nerve ending was being ripped open and set ablaze.

Did I really want to go through that again?

No.

But with Zaliver... could I handle it?

I shifted in his arms and looked up at him. For a moment, he looked completely at peace. His eyes—those piercing, oceanic blues—softened as they met mine. His arms tightened protectively around me, and for a second, I wondered if the universe had designed him to be this tempting on purpose... this magnetic. Maybe it wasn’t just my heat talking.

Or maybe it was.

And that scared me most of all.

Zaliver lifted me out of the water with ease, scooping me up just like he had earlier. His strong arms wrapped around me with such certainty, like he was made to carry me. As we left the warmth of the water behind, I quickly wrapped the towel tightly around myself. That’s when it hit me.

Oh no.

He touched my butt.

He definitely felt my butt.

And worse—I let him.

Heat surged straight to my cheeks, burning me from the inside out. I buried my face against his broad chest to hide the rising blush, but the moment I peeked up, he raised an amused eyebrow down at me. Ugh. That smug, knowing look of his only made it ten times worse.

Why did I suddenly feel all shy and awkward around him? He was my mate. My partner. We’d been through hell and back already, hadn’t we?

Then it clicked.

This was real. This entire thing—us—was real. The bond. The pull. The future. It wasn’t some dream I’d wake up from or something I could keep brushing off as temporary. I was changing. I had changed. And now... now we were about to take the next step, one that would tie us together for life.

My fingers twitched nervously against the damp towel.

Funny how I always thought I was the type who could handle intense change without losing it, mostly because I usually reacted late. But this? This was that late reaction, hitting me full force in the middle of a walk back to the house after a casual swim and an accidental butt grab.

Matehood was one thing in theory, but living with it day by day? Feeling it settle in your bones and become part of your every breath? That was something else entirely.

I couldn’t help but wonder—had I been holding back with Zaliver all along? Maybe not consciously, but somewhere deep inside me, had I been guarding myself? Afraid to fall too hard, too fast? I kept asking him to trust me... but had I truly trusted him?

God. I was a hypocrite.

Relationships require trust, yes, but true commitment? That demanded something deeper. Surrender. And that’s not easy when your heart’s been broken before, or when your past claws at your heels like mine does.

By the time we reached the house, my thoughts were a complete storm. Zaliver gently set me down, and for a moment we just stared at each other. He looked worried, like he could feel the unease rolling off me in waves but didn’t know what to say. I gave him a weak smile and turned toward the stairs, my wet towel clinging to my skin.

Each step felt heavier than the last, my thoughts swirling so loudly I barely heard my own heartbeat.

All this because he touched my butt.

Halfway up the staircase, I stopped. I turned around slowly and looked down at him. Zaliver was still standing there like a statue, arms folded across his chest, his brow furrowed in deep concern.

Screw it.

I marched right back down the stairs, locking eyes with him. When I reached the bottom, I brushed past him then, without warning, planted both hands firmly on his behind.

He jolted.

"Whoa! Not what I was expecting!" he yelped, nearly leaping into the air.

Maybe grabbing his butt would reset the playing field. Maybe it would knock the anxiety right out of me.

I glanced down at my hands, still very much on him. His shorts were wet too, and clinging in all the right ways. His butt was... okay, I had to admit, impressive. Firm. Curved just enough to be sinful.

To prove my point to myself, I gave one cheek a firm pinch.

"Okay!" he squeaked, stepping away so fast he nearly tripped over his own feet.

I lifted my gaze, fully prepared to tell him to get back here because I wasn’t done—

But then I saw it.

Zaliver. The terrifying, powerful Lupus Deus. Blushing.

His ears were bright pink. His cheeks flushed a deep rosy red. And his icy blue eyes kept darting back to me like he didn’t know where else to look.

He was flustered. Completely flustered.

The sound that escaped me was sudden and uncontrollable. I burst into laughter—full-bellied and genuine. The sight of him, so thrown off by something as simple as me grabbing his butt, melted every ounce of tension I’d been carrying.

Maybe that was the thing about love—it wasn’t always deep talks and overwhelming emotion. Sometimes it was silly, embarrassing, human moments that reminded you how much joy you could find in just being with each other.

And right now, I was going to enjoy every single second of making my mate squirm.

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