Chapter 19: Blood Test
Vivian Grey’s POV
"I’m sorry, what?" I blinked at Zaliver, spoon halfway to my mouth, stunned by the words that had just come out of his.
We had just finished breakfast. I’d woken up to find him watching me again, his gaze intense and unreadable like always. After a quick shower, I’d pulled on one of his shirts, long enough to pass for a dress, and judging by the smug little curl at the corner of his mouth, he really liked that. But now, sitting here, with my stomach full and his scent wrapped around me, he had the audacity to drop that bomb.
"We need to go to the doctor," he repeated calmly, as if it were no big deal.
I squinted at him, sure I had misheard. "Excuse me?" I asked, slow and deliberate, even though my wolf was already bristling.
His face was unreadable, but there was a flicker of something, guilt or hesitation, before he looked away toward the window. "Your blood needs to be tested."
My jaw dropped. "Tested?" I echoed. "For what?"
Was he seriously implying something? I nearly choked on the rest of the air in my lungs. Was this about some kind of disease? My wolf snarled indignantly at the idea, ready to tear into him for the insult.
Zaliver cleared his throat. "I just want to check on your health. And other things."
"Other things," I repeated, voice dry and laced with suspicion.
Other things. The phrase sat there between us like a sealed box I wasn’t allowed to open. Was he checking for something specific? Some condition tied to being his mate? Some side effect of the bond neither of us fully understood yet? My wolf went quiet, listening, as if she might already know the answer and was choosing not to share. I thought about pushing him on it, demanding he just tell me plainly what he was looking for. But something in the set of his jaw told me I’d get another non-answer, and I was tired of those before the day had even properly started.
The confusion must’ve been all over my face, because he turned to me again, his eyes impossibly blue, the kind of blue that always made me forget my anger for a second longer than I should. Not this time.
"So, are you saying there’s something wrong with my health?" I narrowed my eyes at him, already seeing the trap I was laying and praying he’d walk straight into it.
He narrowed his own, probably realizing it too. "Oh no. I know this trick. Females lay this trap all the time for their mates. I’m not falling for it."
A laugh escaped me before I could stop it. He was right, but I wouldn’t admit that aloud. "Fine," I grumbled, pushing my chair back.
As I reached for my plate, he zipped past, took both our dishes, dumped them into the sink, and reappeared beside me like it was nothing. Super speed. Show-off.
"Thanks," I muttered, caught between appreciation and annoyance.
He just nodded and led me out the back of the house.
And that’s when I realized it wasn’t just a house.
It was a sprawling mansion, practically a fortress, with layers I hadn’t even seen from the inside. Some of the outer walls had sleek white panels mixed with stone and warm wood accents, modern and ancient pressed together in a way that shouldn’t have worked but somehow did. There was a section that looked like it had been carved out of pure black brick, darker than the rest, older somehow. The grounds stretched further than I could track, trees pressing close on all sides, the air thick and clean the way only places untouched by city noise ever smelled. Underneath it all, I could sense depth, a heaviness in the ground that suggested hidden floors buried far below the surface.
The whole place felt like a secret that had been kept for centuries. Which, knowing Zaliver, it probably had been.
We were heading toward a wide, flat building with two huge doors. A garage.
"Where exactly are we going?" I asked, falling into step beside him.
"I could’ve just taken us straight to the doctor’s office," he said without turning, "but I thought you might prefer to actually see the route rather than just blink and be there."
My gaze dropped involuntarily to the way his jeans hugged him just right as he moved, his gait full of silent power. My fingers twitched. I quickly folded my arms before they did something stupid.
My brain unhelpfully recalled how he looked fresh out of the shower earlier, towel low on his hips, water dripping down every inch of carved muscle. I was dangerously close to drooling, and he hadn’t even said a word. Then he’d smirked and disappeared behind that traitorous towel.
Ugh.
I snapped my eyes upward just in time to catch a wicked grin curling on his lips. He knew. He definitely knew.
And today he was all in black again, as if that wasn’t already his trademark. But this time he’d thrown on a black leather jacket, and suddenly he looked like some dark prince straight out of a forbidden fantasy, if the fantasy came with sharp claws and a body count.
I shook myself out of the haze, but unease settled in the pit of my stomach. He wasn’t just a hot alpha with a temper and a mansion. He was something else entirely.
Zaliver wasn’t just the Lupus Deus by name. He was the stuff of ancient legends, wolf god, immortal, feared and worshipped across every pack that had ever existed. In the stories whispered between older wolves, he was merciless and untouchable, a force of nature wearing skin. But the male walking beside me didn’t feel like that. Not yet. He was intense, yes, possessive and cautious and occasionally cold, but I hadn’t seen the side the stories warned about. Not truly.
Aside from the strange Latin murmurs and his inhuman speed, he seemed almost like a powerful alpha.
Almost.
And that word, almost, was doing a lot of work. Because almost meant there was still a version of him I hadn’t met. A version the stories knew better than I did. And the closer I got to trusting the man beside me, the more that possibility sat quietly in the back of my mind, waiting.
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