The Wolf God's Unwanted Luna

Vivian’s POV

"You really screwed up, Zaliver. On so many damn levels, it’s honestly a miracle I’m even speaking to you."

My voice was shaking, but it wasn’t from fear, it was from everything boiling inside me. I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself, and looked him dead in the eyes.

"Let me try to explain how I’m feeling right now. Yes, you told me you’d mark me someday. I remember that. But what you didn’t say was how you’d go about it. You left out some crucial, life-altering details, like, oh, I don’t know, the part where you’d bind me to you for eternity without mentioning that you’re a freaking Lycan. A species I thought was a damn myth, everyone thought so."

I stepped back, pacing now, heat creeping up my neck as the memories surged.

"And how could I forget the part where you chased me through the forest in your monstrous form like I was some terrified prey? Zaliver, I swear to the moon, you might as well have been coming at me with a knife. You expected me to stay calm while you looked ready to tear through my throat with those massive teeth of yours?"

My voice cracked, but I kept going.

"And if you honestly think that’s the only reason I’m angry, you couldn’t be more wrong."

I stopped pacing and crossed my arms over my chest. My heart was pounding, but it wasn’t just adrenaline, it was hurt, betrayal, disappointment.

"I’m furious, Zaliver. Furious that you forced the mark on me. You made the decision for both of us, knowing full well what it meant. After telling me that once it was done, I’d become the very thing that made me run from all of this in the first place. You wanted obedience, submission, and blind faith without giving me truth, explanation, or even a shred of respect. You kept me in the dark about everything. Like I was supposed to be okay just following your orders, never questioning, never asking."

The words were sharp, but they were honest. I had held them in too long, and now they were pouring out.

"I hate feeling like a pawn. Like some offering handed to you for the sake of peace. Do you even realize how wrong that feels? How belittling it is to be treated like some pretty little trinket to calm the Lupus Deus?"

I blinked fast, angry at myself now. My fists clenched at my sides.

"And you know what? I’m mad at myself, too. For not seeing the signs. For not pushing harder. For ignoring every instinct that told me something was off. For hitting that metaphorical red button you kept waving in my face like a challenge."

I paused, and this time my voice softened, but only barely.

"But above everything else, I’m disappointed. So damn disappointed."

He flinched. I saw it. And a part of me wanted to take it all back. But I couldn’t. I wouldn’t.

"I always thought marking your mate would be this deeply emotional, beautiful moment. Messy, maybe. Not perfect, sure. But special. Intimate. Sacred. Something we’d share together, not something you’d take from me without asking. Now that moment is gone. And no matter what happens next, we’ll never get to have that first step into something new, together."

I looked at him then, really looked. His expression was pained, tortured even. Every time I listed something he’d done wrong, he winced, like the truth cut deeper than a blade. And maybe it did.

But I couldn’t stop myself. Not yet.

"There. I said it. You wanted to know what I was feeling? Now you do."

Silence settled between us like smoke after a wildfire. My chest was tight, throat raw. The words had been like thorns, and now that they were out, I didn’t know whether to feel better or worse.

Part of me thought maybe I’d gone too far. I wasn’t the kind of person who usually rubbed people’s mistakes in their faces like this. But holding onto this anger was poisoning me, and letting it go wasn’t as simple as taking a breath and moving on.

Not this time.

His head hung low, those dark strands of his hair casting shadows across his face, hiding it from me. I searched through our bond, hoping to sense something, anything, but it felt like he’d shut me out completely. That stung worse than I expected. How did I get here? I started off furious at him, ready to scream the world down, and now I just felt hollow. Guilty.

"Zaliver—"

"No." His voice was rough, like gravel scraped across steel. He raised his head slowly, and when our eyes met, the breath caught in my throat.

He looked empty.

His blue eyes held so much sorrow, but his face gave nothing away. No hint of emotion. Just a wall. Cold and bleak.

"I should’ve known how you felt," he said quietly, every word landing like a weight on my chest. "Even if you hated me, I still needed to hear it."

"I don’t hate you, Zaliver," I whispered, honestly. "To be honest, I don’t think I even could. But I don’t trust you. Not right now. That’s just the truth."

The words cut both ways, but I didn’t flinch. If he was going to rebuild what he broke, he had to start with honesty, even if it hurt. Especially if it hurt.

I watched his jaw tighten, his features twitching like he was forcing himself not to crumble. Zaliver always wore armor in front of everyone else, but here, with me, it finally cracked. Deep down, I knew all he ever wanted was to protect what he cared about. Maybe that’s what made this worse, he thought control meant love.

But did that justify anything he’d done? Not even close.

He gave me a strained smile, the kind that was more pain than peace, and slowly leaned down to press a gentle kiss to my forehead. I closed my eyes and breathed him in, warm and familiar. When he pulled away, I already felt the absence.

Then, without a word, he pulled out his phone and tapped a few buttons. I raised an eyebrow, watching his face settle into a look of quiet determination.

"If we’re going to move forward," he murmured, "and if I want a chance at making this right, then I know where to start."

I blinked. "Who are you calling?"

But instead of answering, he simply handed me the phone.

Cautiously, I took it from him. My heart thudded in my chest as I pressed it to my ear, unsure what to expect.

"Hello?" The voice on the other end was raspy and soft, but unmistakably familiar.

I froze.

No. It couldn’t be.

But it was. That voice had tucked me in at night. Whispered lullabies. Offered comfort through every scraped knee and heartbreak.

I turned to Zaliver, eyes wide in disbelief. He gave me a small nod.

"Mom?" I breathed.

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