The Wolf God's Unwanted Luna

Vivian’s POV

"And after. Will every shift hurt?" I asked, already bracing for the answer I didn’t want to hear.

"No. It’ll be quicker. The more you shift, the less pain there is. Eventually, it turns into nothing."

That didn’t exactly sound like a comforting no. More like a gentle way of saying, Yes, but you’ll get used to it. I chewed anxiously on the inside of my cheek. Maybe if I stayed optimistic, it wouldn’t seem so bad.

"What about after the shift?" I continued, pushing through my worries.

He leaned back in his desk chair, his expression softening slightly as he gave a small smile. "Well, I’ve never seen anyone else shift like you. You’re the first. I guess we’ll find out together."

A small huff escaped me. "Fair enough. Um... what about the voice in my head? Will her... personality start to affect mine?" I asked hesitantly, my fingers twitching nervously in my lap.

That caught Zaliver’s full attention. He straightened up immediately, dark brows drawn together as his eyes locked onto me.

"Voice?"

I hesitated. "Yeah..." I answered slowly. Suddenly, it didn’t feel like something I should have said out loud.

He looked genuinely stunned and not in a good way.

"Vivian, beasts don’t have voices. They communicate with emotions... strong ones. Sometimes they take over and speak through us, but they don’t... have a distinct voice of their own."

"W-What?" I stammered. The blood completely drained from my face. If they weren’t supposed to have voices... what the hell was living inside my head?

"How many times have you heard her?" he asked, his large hands clasping tightly in front of him.

"Just once. But I always feel her, like she’s lingering just out of reach. She said I’d been blocking her out and that’s why I’ve been getting headaches."

"You’ve been getting headaches?"

"Yeah," I said quickly, wincing at the sudden shift in his mood. I could feel his irritation creeping through the bond, sharp and cold like a gust of wind.

"Why haven’t you told me?" he snapped, his hand slamming against the wooden desk so hard I flinched.

"I didn’t think it was serious!" I defended, my lips pressing into a tight line.

He leaned back, his jaw tensed, frustration radiating off him in heavy waves. "Vivian, I don’t care if it’s a paper cut. If something is happening to you, I want to know. Big or small... tell me."

I swallowed hard, nodding. "Okay."

His pale eyes searched mine, and then he sat back, still visibly tense.

"As for the voice... the only explanation I can think of is that your beast has fused with your wolf somehow, and figured out how to speak through that link. That’s... different."

"So... you don’t have a voice?" I asked.

He shook his head.

I slumped slightly in my seat. Of course. Out of all the internal voices I could have gotten, I ended up with the sassy, cold, slightly terrifying one. I felt a sharp flicker of offense from her deep inside my mind. Guess she heard that.

"Okay... so werewolf shifts normally take, what, three to five hours?" I asked, trying to redirect my spiraling thoughts.

"Yeah," he said, tilting his head thoughtfully. "But for us... well, back then no one tracked time the same way, but if I remember correctly... my shift took eight hours."

My jaw dropped. "What?"

He didn’t say anything. He just looked at me calmly, as if he hadn’t just thrown me into a full-blown panic.

Eight. Hours.

That wasn’t a shift that was labor. Painful, endless labor. My stomach twisted nervously. I could barely make it through three hours during a regular shift. Eight? No way. My chest tightened with rising dread.

Would the entire transformation stretch out every step of the process like slow torture? Would I even be conscious when it was over? Would I be strong enough to run, to move, to do anything at all?

And then... another terrifying realization hit me like a slap to the face.

What about my heat?

If my theory was right, then the moment I shifted, the bond would snap into place completely. And if that happened... heat would follow.

Full-blown.

My breath caught in my throat. Mating. Actual mating.

Panic bubbled wildly inside me. How much time did I even have left?

"Something else you want to ask me?" Zaliver’s voice cut straight through my spiraling thoughts. His eyes narrowed, studying me carefully. He was turned fully toward me now, giving me his complete attention.

I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. I forced a weak, convincing smile. "Nope."

He didn’t buy it for a second. His eyes narrowed further.

"You sure?"

"Yup."

Definitely not.

I watched Zaliver pace the bedroom, his movements deliberate but oddly distant. The sun hadn’t fully risen yet barely five in the morning but the faint light creeping through the curtains was enough to outline his towering silhouette. He didn’t bother switching on the lights, and the shadowy quiet made everything feel heavier, like the air itself was warning me to pay attention.

He hadn’t said a word yet, but something felt... wrong. Off. I couldn’t explain it. It wasn’t anything obvious he did he wasn’t angry, wasn’t withdrawn in a way I could easily name but my instincts were screaming. My wolf shifted inside me, deeply unsettled. Was I just overthinking this? Maybe he was simply more serious than usual. Still, the ominous feeling wouldn’t leave me.

"I’ll be back later. I have things I need to take care of." His voice was calm as he approached my side of the bed. He leaned down, brushing a gentle kiss against my forehead.

I looked up at him, searching his expression for something I couldn’t name. When he straightened and turned for the door, I couldn’t stay quiet.

"Zaliver? Is everything okay?" My voice came out soft, but I could feel my skin prickle, as if my body knew something my mind hadn’t caught up to yet.

He paused at the door, his hand resting on the knob. He didn’t turn to face me, just tilted his head enough that I could see the sharp tension in his broad shoulders.

"Everything’s... going to be fine. Don’t go outside. Looks like it’s going to rain."

Then he was gone.

The door closed with a soft click, but it might as well have echoed like a deafening slam. I stayed still for a second, then pulled myself toward the window. Even with the curtains drawn, I could tell today was going to be dark, inside and out. The sky had that eerie stillness to it the kind of quiet that came right before a destructive storm.

An uneasy knot formed in my chest. I grabbed Zaliver’s pillow and hugged it tightly against me, burying my face in the scent he left behind. It didn’t help.

What was he doing that made his eyes gleam like that? That sharp, dangerous glint I’d seen it before, usually when something terrible was about to happen. And the way he said everything would be "fine"? It didn’t sit right with me.

Zaliver... what are you not telling me?

The thought lingered just out of reach, like my brain was desperately trying to warn me but couldn’t quite put the pieces into words. A dense fog clouded my thoughts, thick and stubborn. My limbs were sore and heavy, even though I hadn’t done anything physical yesterday to justify it. Still, my senses were heightened. Alert. Anxious.

Maybe it was best to stay inside. Whatever was coming, I could feel it. It wasn’t the world outside that scared me it was something closer. Something already here.

They always say to expect the unexpected. But what happens when you’ve been expecting it all along?

The only real shock... is when it finally arrives.

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