The Wolf God's Unwanted Luna

Vivian’s POV

I turned slowly and found Zaliver standing just behind me, arms crossed over his chest, his expression stone-cold and completely unreadable. His piercing blue eyes pinned me right where I stood, holding me in place like a predator cornering helpless prey. His dark hair was slightly damp with sweat, stray strands sticking to his forehead. His broad, firm chest rose and fell beneath a shirt stretched far too tight across hard muscles.

Ugh. Focus, Vivian!

"What’s going on?" he asked sharply. "What has you all worked up?"

I blinked at him, forcing a fake expression of exaggerated confusion onto my face. "Me? Upset? What are you talking about?" My voice cracked embarrassingly at the end. I let out a forced, awkward laugh. Zaliver’s eyes narrowed into suspicious slits.

He took a single step forward. I mirrored him, side-stepping instead.

"You’ve been acting strange ever since the workout. If you’re still mad about earlier "

"Oh, no. Not at all! I’m fine. Really. I just don’t like feeling... sweaty, that’s all."

My wolf scoffed loudly inside my head.

Oh, so you don’t like a little sweat, but you plan on rolling around with him anyway?

My eyes went wide, and intense heat surged straight into my cheeks. I looked anywhere but at him, cursing my own thoughts and hers. Could she maybe not blurt out every mortifying truth at the worst possible moments?

I glanced nervously toward the bathroom door, trying to calculate whether I could make a sudden run for it. Zaliver was far too fast. I knew it. And the dark look on his face said he knew I was actively considering it.

I darted forward, but before I even got a full step in, his hand closed firmly around my upper arm. Warm. Strong. Unshakable.

I slowly tilted my head up to meet his eyes, caught completely red-handed.

"Wait... why are you...?" Zaliver started, his deep voice low and deeply concerned, confusion etched across his handsome face.

His dark brows drew together, and I could feel the raw tension radiating off him. My stomach twisted. That look like he was genuinely worried I was pulling away from him made my heart ache and race all at once. Part of me desperately wanted to blurt it out, to simply tell him I loved him. But it wasn’t the right moment. How do you even drop something that massive on someone like Zaliver? The timing had to be absolute perfection. This chaotic moment wasn’t it.

My lips parted.

"Nope," I muttered instead, snatching my arm out of his grasp with way too much sudden force. A few toiletries slipped from my hands and tumbled to the floorboards, but I didn’t stop to pick them up.

I practically bolted straight into the bathroom and slammed the door behind me, twisting the lock before I even fully exhaled. Leaning back against the cool wood, I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to force my lungs to breathe. My fingers trembled as I set my remaining things on the sink and started peeling my workout clothes off.

The hot shower water was a welcome distraction, washing away the lingering panic clinging to my warm skin. I let it beat down on me as I tried to gather my scrambled thoughts. Thirty full minutes passed before I even realized that some of the things I’d dropped out in the bedroom were kind of... essential.

Like my bra. And my underwear.

I smacked my palm against my forehead. Just perfect.

Of course, my inner wolf and beast found this absolute disaster hilarious. Their quiet snickering echoed in my head, only fueling my rising frustration. Like I desperately needed two backseat troublemakers cheering me on from inside my own mind.

Still wrapped snugly in a white bath towel, I tiptoed toward the door and listened carefully. What were the odds he had actually left the room? Slim to none. But maybe... maybe he hadn’t noticed what I dropped?

I cracked the door open and peeked out cautiously.

Big mistake.

Zaliver was still right there, fresh from his own shower, damp hair falling over his eyes in wild black strands, sitting casually on the edge of our bed. The only thing covering him was a white towel slung dangerously low around his waist. His long legs were slightly parted, his muscles relaxed like this was completely normal behavior.

And in his large hands?

My bra and my underwear.

He casually spun the bra around one finger like it was some kind of championship trophy. I made a sudden choking noise and stepped fully into the room, frozen mid-stride like prey caught directly in headlights. There was a part of me that wanted to stomp over there, snatch my intimate things out of his hands, and yell at him before burying my face in the sink from sheer embarrassment. Another part of me wanted to yank that low towel right off him and see if he had dropped anything essential, too.

When his pale eyes finally lifted to meet mine, I completely stopped breathing.

His smirk deepened. Just a small, dangerous curl at the corner of his lips, but it carried all the wickedness of a devil. Even my wild wolf stilled. My beast shut up completely.

We all had absolutely no idea what to do with what we were currently seeing.

"Why don’t you come over here and get these from me?" he asked slowly, each word drawn out like a direct dare.

I swallowed thickly, then despite every single bone in my body warning me otherwise started walking slowly toward him. Cautiously. Like he might pounce at any second.

When I was just a foot away, he stopped twirling the bra and set it casually on his lap. I grimaced. There was no way I was reaching down for that.

I extended my hand out with all the grace of someone trying not to get severely burned.

"You should," my beast whispered slyly in my mind.

Zaliver’s smirk widened. Of course he could hear how ridiculously fast my heart was hammering against my ribs.

"You know," he said, lifting my wine-colored lace panties and inspecting them with absolutely zero shame, "I’d really like to see you in this."

I completely forgot how to speak. Me the reigning queen of sarcasm, expert in snappy verbal comebacks I had nothing. My brain completely short-circuited. The fact that we were both wearing only bath towels definitely didn’t help the intense situation. And he had the absolute nerve to look so impossibly composed.

I wasn’t ready for this. Not for Zaliver.

The man was walking, breathing sin. He was pure temptation wrapped in broad muscle and smugness. Honestly, someone save me.

"Umm..." I managed to squeak out. Brilliant. Truly top-tier vocabulary.

He chuckled softly, the deep sound vibrating through the quiet air as he tilted his head back, droplets of water trickling down his bare chest and soaking into the sheets beneath him. He looked so utterly relaxed, like he did this sort of seductive thing every single day.

But then I noticed the subtle, rhythmic tapping of one of his fingers against the mattress. Like he was waiting for something to give.

Then, without even looking up at me, he casually held out my undergarments. I reached out cautiously and took them, not daring to glance directly at his face.

Only I never actually made it back to the bathroom.

He yanked me down onto him in one swift, unstoppable motion. A startled gasp escaped my throat as the entire world flipped upside down. Suddenly I was lying flat on my back, pinned beneath his solid weight. Before I could even fully process what was happening, he ripped the undergarments from my hands and tossed them somewhere far behind him onto the floor.

And just like that, I forgot every single word I was ever planning to say.

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