The Wolf God's Unwanted Luna

They all tried to talk at once, stumbling over each other like kids caught sneaking out.

Something wasn’t right. Not just about this moment, but the entire past week. Every encounter, every odd whisper or shadow in the corner of my vision... it had built up to this. I took a step forward, feeling that if I could just reach them, I’d get the answers I needed.

"What exactly were you doing just now?" I asked, voice low but firm. "Who are you really? Guards? Patrol? Who were you calling? Someone was just here I heard you."

None of them looked me in the eye. Their silence screamed guilt.

Finally, the tall woman with the scar slicing through her brow stepped forward. She chose her words carefully. "We are guards, yes... but we’re special guardians. We’re not allowed to say what we protect. Please don’t ask." Her voice dropped to something firm and unyielding. "And we weren’t calling anyone."

My eyes locked with hers, trying to see past the rehearsed expression.

Why did it feel like they were lying through their teeth?

"So you didn’t just call out to ’her’?" I asked, crossing my arms. "It was just my imagination then?" They all shook their heads. No.

"I’m imagining voices now?" Still, not a single word in response.

That sinking feeling deepened in my gut. I could feel it now this wasn’t just weird. This was wrong. And these four were in the thick of it.

Without a word, I slipped my hand into my pocket and pulled out my phone. All their eyes immediately locked onto it, wide and tense. Like prey spotting a trap.

"What are you doing?" the redhead asked, his voice rising a little, green eyes flicking rapidly between my face and the glowing screen.

I shrugged, trying to look casual. "Just returning a missed call."

The number was still there in bold red. No caller ID. That call had come for me.

"I’m sure it’s nothing important," said the girl without the scar, flashing a too-wide, too-sweet smile. It was fake. I could smell the panic on her.

"Yes, nothing important at all," the scarred woman echoed, stepping forward, hands out like she was preparing to snatch the phone from my grip.

"Yeah, and besides," the blond guy jumped in, his voice scolding, "didn’t your parents teach you it’s rude to make a call in the middle of a conversation?"

I stared at them, heart thudding in my chest but not from fear. From knowing. Their feet were shifting closer, slow and subtle. Their breathing quickened. I could hear the way their pulses raced beneath their calm masks.

"You’re right," I said slowly, voice even. "Maybe it’s nothing. And yeah, my parents did raise me with manners."

They all relaxed at once, releasing a unified breath like a wall had just lifted off their backs.

Beep.

I hit the call button anyway.

Chapter 64: Echoes of the Unfamiliar

Vivian’s POV

"But I really should return this. Might be important," I said with a small smile, watching their expressions shift from surprise to something bordering on panic.

My ears twitched, catching the subtle hum of a phone vibrating. It was faint, but the sound was unmistakable. I scanned the group, narrowing in on the redhead. The buzz was coming from him.

I raised a brow. "Aren’t you going to answer that? Could be important."

He hesitated, then sighed and slipped his hand into his pocket, pulling out the phone like it physically hurt to touch it. His face, already pale, lost what little color it had as he hit the answer button. The screen lit up, and he brought the phone to his ear, his gaze locking with mine.

"Hello?" he said flatly.

My voice echoed back through the speaker from my own end. "Mmhh," I mumbled, then ended the call and slid my phone back into my pocket.

"Alright, enough games. Who are you, and why the hell do you have my number? More importantly, why have you been following me?" I kept my tone calm but firm. I needed answers. These strangers felt too familiar. Too intentional.

The tall blond stepped forward, the serious set of his face confirming I wasn’t imagining the tension. "If you want answers, we’ll give them to you. Tomorrow. Same place."

My eyes narrowed at the vagueness. Around him, the others looked confused and immediately began to protest, but a single look from him silenced them. That look whatever it was had weight. Pack link, maybe?

After a beat, they all nodded in unison, then turned their attention to me again with unreadable expressions.

"Yes," another one said, "meet us here. Same time tomorrow."

Everything in me told me this was a setup. My gut twisted with unease. "Wait " I started, reaching out, but it was too late.

They bolted.

Each one of them vanished in a different direction like shadows dispersing into the wind. Even with my new, enhanced senses and speed, I couldn’t keep track. They moved with the kind of precision and confidence that screamed they’d done this before.

With a frustrated sigh, I looked around the empty street. They were gone.

Fine.

Turning back, I made my way home, hoping the quiet of my room would help me piece this together. The whole encounter had eaten away more of my morning than I realized. When I walked through the door, the house was silent, empty.

I headed straight for my room and dropped onto the edge of my bed. But I couldn’t sit still. I popped right back up, pacing in short, tight strides.

Who were they? What did they want with me? And why did I know them? I replayed their faces, their voices, their urgency.

Were they really talking about me like they knew me like I was supposed to go home with them? What home?

The questions tangled in my brain like barbed wire, but one stood out: Where had I met them before? I felt like if I could just answer that one question, everything else would unravel with it.

I tugged out my ponytail and shook my hair loose. It fell around my face in a messy curtain. Lately, déjà vu had been slamming into me in waves, triggered by random, meaningless things. Why? And why did I feel like some hollow part of me filled up the moment I saw those four? Like puzzle pieces quietly locking into place?

Inside me, my wolf stirred.

She paced back and forth in my mind, agitated, then suddenly froze. Confused. She shook her head, slow at first, then violently, like trying to rid herself of something clinging.

Without realizing it, I mirrored her movements. My head swayed, gently at first... then harder. I wasn’t even sure what I was trying to shake loose. The fog? The memories? The lies?

I stopped abruptly as a sharp pain bloomed behind my eyes. "Ugh," I groaned. That was a bad idea.

But something had shifted.

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