Chapter 24: You Can’t Escape
Vivian Grey’s POV
Back in the car, the silence between us was thick, but not cold. I turned to him, gratitude bubbling in my chest.
"Thanks," I murmured.
He looked over at me, blue eyes intense and steady. "That will never happen again," he said, voice low and full of promise.
I believed him.
But even as warmth lingered in his words, a small part of me shivered, because that look in his eyes? That wasn’t just protective. It was dangerous.
We pulled into a wide clearing surrounded by thick forest. The moment the tires left the road and rolled over the grassy field, I realized this wasn’t just some casual drive. It was a training ground. Wolves, men and women alike, both in human and shifted form, were scattered everywhere, sparring, grappling, and pushing through punishing workouts. Everyone wore workout clothes, drenched in sweat and intensity.
Though the windows of the car were tinted, I could feel their eyes on us. Some stared with curiosity, others with suspicion. And then I spotted him. Albericus. He moved toward us with that easy confidence of his, dressed in black sweatpants and a snug white tee that made it hard not to notice the hours he’d clearly spent training. His sunlit brown hair was tousled, and those green eyes of his were locked onto the car.
Zaliver turned to me with a half-smile, eyes glinting with mischief.
"You’re safe here, Vivian. I’ll show you just how secure this island is," he said, killing the engine and stepping out before circling around to open the door for me.
The second I stepped out, the weight of every gaze hit me like a wall. Dozens of strong, trained wolves stared, but none of them made me feel as exposed as Zaliver did when his eyes met mine.
Albericus whistled low when he got a better look at the vehicle. Typical.
"I haven’t seen you drive anything other than that Black Beauty in years. Is this new?" he asked as they bumped fists and knocked shoulders like brothers.
Zaliver only nodded, not giving much away.
Then Albericus’s attention snapped to me, and a slow, teasing smile crept onto his face. There was a twinkle in his eye, one that told me he knew something I didn’t.
"Good morning, Luna Vivian. How’s the day treating you?" he asked with too much glee.
I tilted my head slightly. I’d been calling him Algebra in my head since the moment I heard his name, and honestly, I was done being polite about it. I played along with a cheerful smile. "Morning, Algebra. I’m doing well. You?"
His grin instantly dropped, the corners of his lips flattening. His green eyes turned sharp and unamused.
"Just peachy," he muttered.
Zaliver cleared his throat, pulling our attention to the crowd that had somehow drifted closer. They all bowed their heads in respect to him but kept watching me with open curiosity.
"Back to training," Zaliver commanded with a simple wave. "Your Luna is observing. Try not to make fools of yourselves."
Like magic, they returned to their drills, only now more fired up.
Zaliver turned to me again, his hand settling gently on my shoulder. His expression was unreadable, a mix of frustration, tension, maybe worry. I couldn’t quite place it, and that made my stomach tighten.
"Watch how they move. Focus on technique. Let me know if you spot any slackers," he said with a wry smile. But even in jest, his tone was layered.
Then he nodded toward a long bench nearby. "Go sit there. I’ll be back in a bit, I need to speak with Albericus."
I watched him walk away with Algebra, both of them deep in a silent conversation that I figured was a mind-link, judging by the occasional twitch of a brow or frown.
To get to the bench, I had to pass by several sparring pairs. I told myself I’d be quick. Stay sharp. Avoid getting in anyone’s way. Even as a werewolf, getting hit mid-spar wasn’t something I was eager to experience.
I was maybe five steps from the bench when it happened. Out of nowhere, a blur of movement swept my feet from under me. My body hit the ground hard, hands scraping against sharp rocks, cheek stinging, lungs emptying in a harsh gasp.
I lay there for a second, blinking at the sky, pain registering in slow waves. My palms burned. My pride burned worse.
Everything stopped. Every grunt. Every punch. The entire field went quiet.
A shadow loomed over me.
I lifted my head, trying to ignore the sting in my palms. A girl stood above me, young, pretty, with long black hair and pale brown eyes that held no real concern. There was a mocking smile tugging at her lips.
"Oh no, did that hurt?" she asked in a fake-sweet voice that was quiet, but loud enough for any wolf to hear.
I narrowed my eyes. My wolf stirred, growling under my skin.
"Well, it wouldn’t have hurt if you were actually our alpha’s mate, you little lyi—"
She didn’t get to finish.
Zaliver appeared behind her like a shadow ripped from the earth. His aura hit like a storm, deadly, suffocating. His eyes were pitch black, a void that promised violence. The way his hair fell over half his face only made it more terrifying.
And then he moved.
His hand shot out and gripped her head, and before I could even blink, there was a sickening snap. Her expression froze mid-word, eyes still glaring at me. Zaliver tossed her body like she was nothing, her corpse landing yards away in silence.
I was frozen. My body wouldn’t respond. I didn’t know if it was fear or shock or both. Around me, no one spoke. No one moved.
Then Zaliver crouched beside me. With the same hands that had just ended that girl’s life, he scooped me into his arms like I weighed nothing. Held me close against his chest. Cradled me.
I didn’t resist. My limbs felt numb. My eyes glazed. I stared at him, not quite seeing, but feeling everything.
We locked eyes. For a long moment, we just stared at each other, like the world had stopped moving. His expression shifted, less rage, more sorrow.
And then he whispered, voice low, full of something I didn’t know how to name.
"Close your eyes and sleep, Vivian. Dream sweet things. Because when you wake, I’ll be the nightmare you can’t escape."
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