The Wolf God's Unwanted Luna

Vivian’s POV

"And about the kids," he continued, his tone softening, "I’ve spent most of my existence watching others build families, create memories. I’ve never had much interaction with children, but if they’re ours? If they’re a piece of you? Then I’d be honored, Vivian."

He paused and moved his large hand up to gently brush some stray hair away from my face. I stared up at him, the undeniable tenderness in his gaze softening something tight and anxious deep inside my chest.

"So again, it’s entirely your choice. If you want kids, you’ve got a willing contestant hell, I’m the only contestant that matters anyway," he said, a small, playful smile gracing his lips.

I blushed like an embarrassed schoolgirl.

Strangely, I started to feel like myself again maybe not entirely, but the edges of who I was before all this chaos were finally starting to return. I wasn’t ready to forgive him completely. Not yet. But... people mess up.

No one messes up quite like Zaliver, of course, but still. He was trying. Changing, even.

Then, out of absolute nowhere, my inner wolf’s territorial streak won, and I growled, "And yes, I know you’ve slept with a lot of women."

He frowned, his brows knitting together.

Well. That thoroughly killed the tender moment.

I turned away and gave him my back, my pride slightly wounded.

"I don’t see why you’re upset," he muttered behind me. "It’s not like you didn’t already know."

"No female wants to hear that the dick meant for her has been in other women!" I snapped before I could stop myself.

My wolf howled in hysterical laughter inside my head. "You go girl!" she cheered enthusiastically.

"Oh, shut it," I muttered back to her under my breath.

As soon as those outrageous words tumbled out of my mouth, regret hit me like a sharp slap to the face. Not because I didn’t mean them, but because I had said them aloud. Out loud. Why in the world did I say that out loud? Goddess, take me now.

The silence that followed was suffocating. Zaliver didn’t say a single word for what felt like forever. Uncomfortably, agonizingly long. My heart thudded in my chest as the quiet stretched on, smothering every last ounce of boldness I had left.

Then, his deep voice cut through the air like a sharp blade.

"Are... are you jealous of women who meant nothing to me? Women I only used to relieve myself?" he asked, his voice low and tight with sudden anger.

My breath caught in my throat. My eyes widened at his brutal, blunt words.

Well... when he put it like that...

I didn’t turn around to face him. Couldn’t. I wasn’t ready to see the fierce expression on his face. What was I even supposed to say in response to that?

"Vivian," he snapped.

I jumped. My name cracked like a whip in the quiet bedroom. Slowly, hesitantly, I turned to look at him, my lips parting at the furious expression contorting his sharp features.

"Why are you mad?" I whispered, completely unsure whether I was terrified, confused, or both.

He stood up in one fluid motion, throwing his broad arms into the air with sudden exasperation.

"Because you’re putting yourself in the same category as women who meant absolutely nothing to me. You’re jealous over ghosts, Vivian of a past I never would have lived if I’d known you existed. Do you think I wanted that kind of meaningless life? I thought I’d be alone forever unloved, unwanted. And when that’s your reality, physical pleasure becomes a pitiful substitute. But you? You’re not them. You never were. Don’t let your mind convince you otherwise," he said, his harsh voice softening near the end.

My chest tightened painfully.

"But I bet if I told you I’d slept with guys before " I began.

"You haven’t," he cut in immediately, frowning hard.

"But if I had "

"But you didn’t," he insisted, his icy eyes narrowing.

"Well, if I do "

"You won’t," he growled, the Lycan in him rising to the surface.

I grinned wickedly. "I dunno. Dylan O’Brien and Jensen Ackles really do call to me "

The words were barely out of my mouth before I had to roll rapidly off the bed to dodge him lunging directly toward me. Reflexes of the goddess, activate.

He sprang up in a blur of terrifying speed, eyes narrowed into icy blue slits. His lips pulled back slightly, flashing sharp, dangerous canines in warning. Oops. Definitely not amused.

I started crawling away across the rug, but in a blink, he had me pinned face down to the floorboards. One of his massive hands held both of mine tightly above my head, and his long legs pressed mine firmly apart. His heavy weight pressed gently but unyieldingly against my back, halting any further movement. My heart thudded wildly not out of fear, but something much more reckless and thrilling.

He leaned down until his mouth hovered right beside my ear, his breath hot and dangerous against my skin.

"Why do you make this so damn hard for me?" he murmured darkly. "Every instinct I have wants to mark and claim you right now, and you go and talk about other males."

I wriggled beneath him, trying to free my wrists. But instead of being mad or scared, something inside me found the whole situation... hilarious. I let out a shaky giggle. That turned into a light chuckle. Then full-blown, stomach-aching laughter.

Zaliver let out an exasperated huff, thoroughly annoyed, and got off me. With little care for elegance, he scooped me up in his arms and plopped me back onto the mattress like a heavy sack of potatoes.

"H-Hey!" I said between breathless gasps, still laughing.

He rolled his eyes. When I finally calmed down, he raised a dark brow at me like I was completely insane. I gave a lazy shrug. My hand brushed against something soft beside me on the comforter.

"Oh yeah! This reminds me why do you have this and a very unflattering picture of me under your pillow?" I asked, holding up the familiar peach dress.

His lips pressed into a tight, reluctant line before he answered.

"What else was I supposed to cuddle while you were gone?" he muttered softly. "And that’s a lovely photo of you."

I sat up straight, eyeing him suspiciously from head to toe.

"Who are you and what have you done with the real Zaliver?" I asked with mock seriousness.

He just shook his head and gently took the dress from my hand, folding it with surprising care before placing it down. Then he reached for my hand and brought my knuckles to his warm lips, his eyes locked intently on mine.

"I believe the question, my beautiful little mate, is what have you done to Zaliver?" he said, his deep voice remarkably low and sincere.

I blinked, an intense warmth blooming in my chest. "I don’t know... Why don’t you tell me?"

He smirked. "Nope. Now hurry up and change."

He let go of my hand and turned to walk into the walk-in closet.

"What? Why? What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?" I asked, looking down at my casual clothes.

He paused at the doorway, giving me a sweeping look over his shoulder, a knowing smile curving his lips.

"It’s not appropriate for where we’re going... or what we’ll be doing."

I narrowed my eyes, my heart fluttering wildly. "And what exactly is that?"

He chuckled under his breath and gave me a playful wink.

"Our first date, of course."

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