The Wolf God's Unwanted Luna

Vivian’s POV

"Was that enough for you?" he asked, glancing up at me mid-bite as he finished his own massive portion.

"Oh yeah. It was delicious," I said, trying my absolute best not to sound too overeager or completely dazed by the sheer amount of food I’d just inhaled.

"I meant did you notice anything? Like why I had you use your sense of smell before you ate?" he clarified smoothly, reaching out with one broad hand for his coffee mug.

My eyes instinctively drifted down to his hand, watching how his long fingers wrapped so naturally around the ceramic mug, and how he casually brought it to his lips. Since when was watching a man drink plain black coffee so absurdly seductive?

I cleared my throat hastily, feeling a sudden flush of heat creep up my neck. "Oh. Yeah. I... found a pretty effective way to distract myself from all the overwhelming sensory input."

He raised a single dark brow, a hint of curiosity in his eyes, but he didn’t press me for details.

That ass, my wolf suddenly growled in my head, totally unprompted.

I almost choked on thin air. A sputtered, embarrassing cough escaped my throat, and I tried desperately to play it off as nothing, but Zahliver’s deep amusement rolled through our mate bond like a warm, rumbling laugh inside my chest. He liked that I was checking him out. Of course he did. He knew exactly how ridiculously good he looked—and he was mine. All mine.

Once we finally finished eating, we cleaned up the kitchen together in surprisingly comfortable silence. I was caught completely off guard, however, when his relaxed expression shifted suddenly. A low, threatening growl escaped his throat as he pulled his buzzing phone out of his pocket. Something on the screen had irritated him instantly. Without saying a single word to me, he turned and started walking away toward the quieter side of the house.

"Wait," I called out, perking up on the counter. "So does this mean I can finally go out without you supervising me?"

He turned halfway around, giving me a look that was both stern and a little apologetic.

"Not even close. Just give me a minute—I need to take this call."

I nodded, even though I was practically dying inside to explore the island. Cabin fever was getting very real, very fast.

"You know," I said teasingly, hopping down from the counter and settling cross-legged on the plush living room couch, "I’ll probably still hear every single thing you say... no matter how far away you go."

His broad back tensed for just a second before he kept walking down the hallway.

Score one for the new wolf ears.

"Yes, but I doubt you’ll be able to stay focused with everything around you making noise or movement," Zahliver called out, his voice already sounding distant. "And the farther away I am, the less the static from the phone will bother your sensitive ears."

He was probably already on the complete opposite side of the house. Even when he seemed to move casually, he was fast. Freakishly fast.

"Hmmm," I huffed softly, my lips twitching into a slight pout as I stared at the empty hallway where he had just vanished. There was no point in trying to eavesdrop on his call anyway. That awful, screeching static ringing from the TV earlier still haunted me, feeling as if someone had jabbed sharp ice picks directly into my eardrums. Just the memory alone made my ears ache.

I got up from the couch and slowly made my way over to the heavy living room curtains. Zahliver had drawn them completely shut earlier, warning me that direct sunlight would sting like crazy until my sensitive new eyes adjusted to the change. He mentioned something about easing my vision gradually into full brightness over the next few days.

However, a few stubborn, golden rays of sunlight peeked invitingly through the edges of the fabric. I gently lifted my hand and reached toward them, letting the warm beams spill across my bare skin. A soft, content sigh escaped my lips. It felt so... grounding. Natural. Real.

With my eyes closed, I soaked it all in. The warmth. The quiet comfort. The silent, aching yearning deep in my chest. Both of the wolves inside me stirred restlessly at the touch of light. They wanted out. We all wanted out. I ached to feel the crisp sea wind blow through my hair, to hear the island breathe with its crashing waves and whispering trees. Being locked inside this house after shifting felt inherently wrong.

And then, right there in the quiet room, it returned. That strange tug.

It was faint but unmistakably familiar, like an invisible thread winding itself tightly around my chest and pulling ever so gently. The background hum of distant conversations grew louder, more insistent inside my mind. I still couldn’t separate the overlapping words or tell who they belonged to—it felt like trying to make sense of ten static-filled radio stations playing at once—but two distinct voices suddenly stood out far more than the others. Clearer, almost within my reach.

I focused harder, trying to latch onto one of them, but just as quickly as it appeared, the sensation slipped away like smoke through my fingers.

Something deep down told me this wasn’t just the standard pack link. Not quite. It felt fundamentally different. Bigger. Deeper.

I must have spaced out completely, because I didn’t notice the faint footsteps behind me until they were almost right at my back. Heavy. Familiar. Zahliver’s boots. He was back.

I turned around slowly, meeting his intense gaze as he brought himself to a stop just a few feet away.

"Who were you talking to?" I asked, watching him slide his large hands casually into the back pockets of his dark jeans. The simple motion pulled the fabric of his shirt tight over his muscles, and for a heartbeat, I completely forgot how to think. My fingers twitched with the sudden urge to reach out and touch him. That low, primal hum inside my chest answered back, echoing louder this time.

"A friend," he said carefully, his eyes searching my face. "And I called Dr. Leonard. He’s on his way over right now."

My brows pinched together in confusion. That name... I knew it, vaguely, from past mentions. But why now?

"Why?" I asked, genuinely unsure if I actually wanted the real answer.

Zahliver tilted his head slightly, watching me like I was some delicate, complicated puzzle he hadn’t quite solved yet. "I just want to make sure you’re okay, Vivian. That’s all."

Bull.

"And why do you need a doctor to tell you that? You’ve seen me. I’m standing right here in front of you."

I didn’t want to sound defensive or accusatory, but I couldn’t help it. Every single time a doctor got involved in anything supernatural regarding him or the pack, it inevitably spiraled into something weird, clinical, and uncomfortable.

His expression didn’t waver for a second, but his deep voice softened noticeably. "Because despite your obvious lack of control with your senses, speed, and strength... you’re entirely too calm, Vivian. That’s not normal for a brand-new shift."

I opened my mouth to argue, but he stepped closer, closing the small space remaining between us. He reached out and placed his large hand gently on my shoulder.

"When I first shifted," he said, his voice low and steady, carrying the weight of old memories, "I was an absolute mess. Unstable in every sense of the word. Dangerous to everyone around me. But you... you’re composed. Quiet. Something isn’t adding up. You do realize you went through a complete, agonizing transformation last night, right?"

"Yeah, I know," I whispered softly, but my voice trailed off the very second his skin made contact with mine.

That low hum from before? It instantly swelled into a full-on vibration that ran straight through my entire body. It felt like a heavy guitar string being plucked deep within my ribs. The echo of it lingered, warm and unnervingly steady. And then came something entirely new: heat. It was as if a small candle had suddenly been lit at my core—small at first, but the comforting warmth started growing exponentially with every single second his hand remained on my shoulder. Comforting. Familiar. Extremely dangerous.

My hand began to rise toward his chest purely on instinct, magnetically drawn to that intense spark flaring between us.

But right before my palm could touch his chest, the distant crunch of tires rolling over gravel broke through the quiet air, followed by the low, idling hum of an engine coming to a halt just outside the front entrance.

A visitor had arrived.

My heart skipped a sudden beat in my chest.

"Doc?" I asked quietly, my pulse instantly jumping.

Zahliver didn’t say a word.

But the solemn, watchful look on his face gave me my answer.

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