The Wolf God's Unwanted Luna

Albericu’s POV

I stood right before the thick steel door, my hand frozen just inches away from the handle. For a long, suffocating moment, I didn’t move at all just stared. My pulse thudded loudly in my ears, heavy and deeply uncertain. I had no idea how this encounter was going to unfold. But turning back simply wasn’t an option. Not now.

Drawing in a slow breath, I curled my fingers into tight fists and pushed the heavy door open. The thick darkness swallowed me whole. The only real source of light came from the hallway behind me and that, too, vanished completely the second the steel door groaned shut. The metallic echo bounced hard around the concrete room, and in the quiet stillness, I caught the faintest shift.

Movement.

And then her scent hit me.

That scent.

It curled softly through the air like smoke, wrapping itself tightly around my lungs, slipping under my skin, dragging up painful memories I’d fought so hard to bury. The bond we once shared stirred deep in my chest, subtle yet entirely undeniable. My body knew her the way the moon knows the tides intimately, inevitably. But my heart... it resisted. It didn’t want to accept what my senses were already screaming.

"Look who decided to show up. My relentless shadow of a mate," her voice rang out, sharp and ice-cold.

I didn’t need light to find her position. My eyes had already adjusted to the pitch. Her silhouette was a familiar shape sitting in the corner, posture relaxed, heartbeat calm. The exact opposite of my own. Mine thundered in my chest, raw and uneven. Her voice had sharp teeth. And it sank straight into me.

I said nothing.

The cell because that’s truly what it was, no matter how many small comforts we added was completely bare, made of unforgiving gray cement. There was a small bed, a simple chair, a curtained-off bathroom. No windows. No distractions. No means of escape. She was allowed only what she needed, and even that was quickly removed after use. The light barely leaked in from beneath the bottom of the door, but that was all I needed to see her. For her, it was near pitch-black.

Her expression didn’t show a trace of surprise or fear. Only weariness. And deep boredom.

That, somehow, hurt so much worse.

I stayed rooted in place, my eyes locked onto the face I used to know so well. The face that used to light up every time it saw me. What was I supposed to say to her now? What could I even say?

"So?" she pressed, her voice curling with heavy sarcasm. "You planning to just stand there like some mute bouncer, or did you come here to finally let me go?"

Still, I couldn’t bring myself to speak out loud. Her quiet sigh cut right through the silence.

"Mute bouncer it is, then," she muttered. "You know, there’s really no point in keeping me locked up like this anymore. I gave Zaliver his reading. The entire world doesn’t revolve around him. Believe it or not."

She shifted again in her seat, the movement barely noticeable, but I heard every fraction of it. My jaw tensed tight.

"Do you need anything?" I finally asked, taking a slow step forward.

Just one small step.

It was enough to make everything in my body ache. My muscles, my thoughts, my wolf. He whimpered softly inside me, clawing forward, desperate to get closer to her. To his mate.

She gave a short, bitter laugh. "Besides my freedom?"

I ignored the sharp barb.

She fidgeted in her chair again, and though she tried her best to mask her unease, her scent betrayed her completely. The sharp edge of restlessness clung to her like a second skin. She was trying so hard to keep control. But I knew better. A wolf always knows.

Her dark hair was pulled back, tight and clean. She wore the plain gray dress I’d sent down, along with a heavy black jacket. At least she was accepting the clothing now. That was something. But the meals... the meals went almost entirely untouched. She’d always been picky, even back then. It used to make me smile the way she’d grumble about a dish and then compliment it the very next day, only to vow she’d never eat it again.

Now it just scared me to my core.

Her frame was thinning out far too much. Her cheekbones were sharper, her wrists more delicate than they ever should’ve been. She was fading away slowly, right before my very eyes.

And all I could do was stand there.

Watching her unravel in absolute silence.

The room was swallowed deep in shadows, the cold air thick with stale magic and silence. I stood just past the steel threshold, watching her sit completely still and shackled, barely more than a dark silhouette against the far stone wall. In this kind of darkness, her magic couldn’t help her not because she didn’t have the raw power, but because she wouldn’t dare use it.

Aurora had always been far more light than shadow. Even now, buried beneath heavy layers of darkness, that core of hers the part that used to hum with warmth and life was still in there. I knew it. But without her light, she was completely unmoored, stuck somewhere between what she once was and what she was slowly becoming. Her magic was wild now, unpredictable. She could cast a spell, yes... but whether it would heal or destroy, neither of us could ever be sure.

That kind of uncertainty for a witch... it was like being caught in a violent storm without a compass.

"Aurora..." I let out a long breath, my voice low and incredibly careful as I took another slow step forward. She sat with her ankles crossed, her back rested against the cold stone, as if the bindings didn’t even matter to her. They were loose anyway Zaliver had made sure of that. This was never meant to be a torture prison, just a heavily warded space strong enough to keep her magic from lashing out.

But it was the black blindfold that unsettled me most. She’d tried to tug it off, judging by the frayed cloth edges, but it still clung stubbornly to her face. A part of her still wanted to see. Maybe not the room itself. Maybe... me.

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