The Wolf God's Unwanted Luna

Vivian’s POV

I closed my eyes and clung to the sound of his voice it was soft, broken in that rare, fragile way that pierced directly through my heavy haze like sunlight cutting through dense fog. Even before his actual words reached me, I could hear it. His heartbeat.

Strong. Steady. So impossibly loud in my ears, it called to me like a beacon in the dark.

My wolf stirred at the deeply familiar rhythm, lifting her head slowly, like she’d just remembered where she truly belonged.

Home, she murmured softly within me. We’re home. We’re safe.

I reached out to her without hesitation. Just that one simple word from her made everything inside my chaotic soul shift. And she answered me, curling around my shattered consciousness like a warm, protective blanket.

"Oh thank the gods," Zaliver breathed as I finally began to move in his arms. Slowly, my body began to shift: bones snapping into place, muscles stretching and reforming, the agonizing pain leaving my limbs like the tide retreating from the shore.

When the transformation was complete, I was a wolf once more, but something deep inside me still panicked violently. I couldn’t get my footing in the shifting water. My instincts screamed like I was still drowning, and I began to flail helplessly against the current.

But Zaliver was already right there.

His massive arms steadied me immediately. "It’s okay," he whispered, his intense eyes locked on mine. "I’ve got you."

He held my head gently, resting it against his shoulder, while his other hand supported my sleek body beneath the cold surface of the stream. His strength didn’t waver for even a single second. The chill around me dulled the persistent pain clinging to my nerves, almost like he was physically pulling the suffering right out of me.

I let out a slow, heavy breath, relief pouring out with it.

"Feeling better?" he asked, scooping cold water into his palm and letting it run over my fur with long, gentle strokes.

"Yes," I murmured through our mental bond, my voice barely a whisper inside his mind.

His lips curved into a faint, relieved smile. "Good," he replied softly.

Then he leaned in close and brushed his warm nose against my snout, his affection so tender and raw that I almost didn’t know how to process it.

I blinked slowly, looking past his broad shoulder into the dark, silent forest. Nothing stirred. Even the wild animals seemed to have hidden away, sensing the storm that hovered ominously over us.

"What’s happening to me?" I asked quietly through the bond, watching the completely still trees.

Zaliver sighed heavily, rubbing a wet hand over his face before meeting my eyes again. "We’ve been apart too long "

"And whose fault is that?" The sharp words slipped out before I could stop them sharper than I’d intended, but I didn’t regret saying them.

He didn’t flinch at the accusation. Instead, he looked even more visibly weighed down by the reality of it.

"I know," he said, his voice dropping low. "And every time we’re separated, your body reacts worse than the last. You’re a born werewolf. Your bond doesn’t need constant physical connection to survive, but me? I’m a lycan. My mark... it’s different. Stronger. Far more demanding. What we have, Vivian, it’s not ordinary. It’s not written in any of the ancient books. There’s no guide for this specific bond we share. It’s unique. One of a kind."

His hand moved up to gently cup the back of my furry head as he continued, speaking more to himself now than to me.

"I don’t think either of us will die from being apart... but sometimes I think this this distance it’s the closest thing to death I’ve ever felt. Your shift is getting closer. Your body is desperately trying to prepare, to adapt to what’s coming. But it doesn’t know how. You’re not just a wolf anymore. You’re becoming something entirely new. And it’s because of me."

He looked straight into my eyes, pure guilt written in every single line of his face.

"I did this to you."

He paused, his jaw clenching tightly. Then, like floodgates breaking open, the truth poured out of him.

"You’re right I’m a bastard. I forced my mark on you without asking. Changed everything about your life with zero warning. And I can never take that back. I’m so sorry you’re stuck with someone like me: a complete wreck of a man trying to piece himself together again. A possessive, overbearing monster who can’t stand to let you out of his sight. I’m sorry that out of everyone in the entire world... your mate had to be me."

His voice cracked at the end, and I felt my own emotional pain rise to meet his through the connection.

"I’m sorry I’m selfish enough to put my absolute need for you above everything else, even your own happiness. I’m sorry I let my fear turn me into this. And gods, I’m so sorry I’m not the man you deserve."

"Stop," I whispered brokenly, my heart shattering into pieces as I stared at him.

His eyes those bright, storm-tossed blue eyes looked so profoundly haunted. He meant every single word. Every last one.

And it tore me completely apart.

Because no matter how furious I had been, no matter how many times he’d hurt me with his silence, his arrogance, and his stubbornness... I still felt it.

That maddening, undeniable pull between us.

The bond.

Him.

Us.

"But " He frowned, his brows knitting together like he couldn’t fathom why his sincere apology was stinging me so deeply.

"Don’t talk about yourself like that," I said, my voice sharper than I intended through the bond.

If I wasn’t so completely worn down my body aching from the forced shift, my heart utterly exhausted from the emotional tug-of-war I would’ve forced myself to shift right back to human form just to grab his face, kiss him breathless, and yell some actual sense into him.

He stared down at me. Not just a quick glance, but a deep, soul-searching stare that went straight through my defenses. I felt him gently tug at the bond between us, and this time, I didn’t fight it. I let the walls fall completely. Even though part of me still flinched at the terrifying idea of being so utterly exposed, I needed him to feel what I felt. To see that I meant what I was saying, and that hearing him tear himself apart hurt me deeply.

It wasn’t just self-loathing on his part. It was like he didn’t even know how to exist properly anymore. Like he was only breathing because his body hadn’t given up on the habit yet.

"You’re not a monster," I said quietly, pushing every single ounce of my love through the open bond. "You’re Zaliver. My Zaliver."

His lips parted like he wanted to protest, but instead, he nodded once. "Okay," he said, though his voice still trembled with heavy doubt.

That was enough for now.