Chapter 37: The god
Zaliver’s POV
I closed the door with finality and stood just behind it, the echo of the lock clicking into place grounding me in this madness. From inside, I could hear her shifting on the bed, followed by the sharp sting of my name spat out in pure fury. Her anger hit me like a wave, but instead of flinching, I found myself staring blankly at the wall, thoughts rushing through me at impossible speeds.
Who would’ve thought that a stubborn, sharp-tongued little brunette could unravel me so completely?
I knew what I had done was questionable. Forcing her to stay, keeping her confined, it crossed every line I swore I wouldn’t. But the thing that unsettled me the most wasn’t the guilt. It was the calm that settled over me once I knew she couldn’t leave. That she was mine. I hated myself for it, but gods, it felt so damn right.
It didn’t help that she made it worse, her eyes lingering on me when she thought I wasn’t paying attention, her hands brushing me in her sleep. I never called her out for it. I loved the way she touched me in her dreams, the way her scent clung to my skin. Pretending to ignore it was easier than watching her retreat into herself if she realized I noticed.
With a frustrated growl, I blurred down the hallway toward my office. I slammed the door behind me, hard enough to rattle the shelves. The heavy sound echoed off the walls, sharp and final. I dragged my hands through my hair and dropped into my chair, turning it to face the tall window behind my desk.
The moon hung there, brilliant, silent, judging. It bathed the dark room in silver light, casting long shadows that only seemed to emphasize the growing hunger inside me.
My beast stirred just beneath the surface. It wanted her. Now.
I shifted in my seat, jaw clenching as my imagination didn’t do me any favors. A slow, wicked smile curled my lips despite myself. I wanted to mark every inch of her skin, claim her completely until the world knew she belonged to me. Not just in name, not just by bond, but by every raw, primal instinct within us.
She was my mate.
That still felt like a dream I never dared to have. I’d existed longer than most bonds themselves, older than most wolves could imagine. I watched generations find their fated ones, watched them glow with joy and sink into their bond like it was salvation. Saw how it softened them, steadied them, gave them something worth fighting for beyond pride and territory. All the while, I stood outside that warmth. Centuries passed and I stood in the same cold place, watching others be chosen while the universe stayed silent on my behalf. Eventually, I stopped expecting it. I convinced myself I was never meant to have a mate. That the universe had simply skipped me, moved on, decided I was too far gone for something that tender.
Then the rumors started.
Whispers. A mate made just for me. The Moon Goddess herself crafting someone to match my darkness. I didn’t believe it, not at first. I knew better than to trust kindness from those gods. They never gave without taking twice as much. But a sliver of curiosity took root in my chest regardless, quiet and stubborn.
What would she be like? Could she calm the storm inside me?
I didn’t go searching right away. I wasn’t that desperate. Not yet. But over time, the loneliness dug deeper than I wanted to admit. The endless string of meaningless nights, the emptiness at the other side of the bed, the way I could feel centuries still stretching before me like a road with no end and no warmth along it. Eventually, I started sending scouts. Quietly. Discreetly. Told them to look for anomalies, she-wolves who stood out in strength, speed, presence. Something different. Something made to match what I was.
Every time, they returned with nothing.
Each empty report landed in me like a small, practiced blow. I’d learned not to react, but I felt them all the same, the same way you feel a wound that’s healed badly and aches in cold weather. I knew what it meant to be disappointed by the gods. I’d had centuries of practice. But this particular disappointment was different, quieter, more personal. Like being told over and over that you weren’t worth the effort of being loved. After enough of them I began to wonder if it was a lie, something concocted by the gods to distract me, or worse, that some lesser male had found her first and buried her beneath his scent to keep her hidden from me.
Still, I never stopped wondering. Even now, with her so close, I didn’t trust what this bond meant. Part of me still expected betrayal. Some twist. Some cruel trick designed to make me lower my guard and pay for it. But another part, smaller and more dangerous, just wanted to know her. All of her. Her pain, her past, her secrets. Her desire.
Even in the short time we’d shared a room, I could feel how wild she was. How unpredictable. How dangerous, just not in the way most people feared. She wasn’t my enemy. But she could be the only person in six hundred years capable of bringing me to my knees.
The Moon Goddess, that tricky creature, I didn’t hate her. Not like the others. But I didn’t trust her either. If she made Vivian for me, there had to be a reason. A deeper purpose I hadn’t uncovered yet.
And maybe, just maybe, I’d been made for her too.
But that didn’t mean I would stop being careful. I’d play the game. I’d protect what was mine. And I’d burn the world to ash before letting anyone else take her from me.
Even if that meant keeping her in chains a little longer.
Even if some part of me, buried deep beneath the centuries of armor, hoped she’d eventually stop fighting it and choose to stay.
That was the part I didn’t let myself examine too closely. Not yet. Some doors were safer left shut, at least until I knew she wouldn’t use what was behind them against me.
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