Chapter 39: The Needle
Zaliver’s POV
There was a tightness in my chest that didn’t belong. Unease clawed at me, sharp and subtle, a strange blend of dread and quiet. My skin prickled even as a chilling calm blanketed me, and deep down, I knew something was wrong.
Then came the shift.
The beast stirred. No, more than stirred, he roared.
A violent surge of instinct and fury crashed through my mind as he lashed against the walls I’d spent centuries fortifying. He didn’t just push, he tore through them, snarling, snapping, sending pain ricocheting through my skull.
I grit my teeth, spun the chair toward the desk, and yanked the drawer open with shaking fingers. Even in the dim light, I found what I was looking for, the syringe. The liquid inside was thick and deep purple, almost black in the darkness. My salvation. My curse.
As soon as I gripped it, the beast went berserk. He tore at me from the inside, claws digging into the flesh of my chest until I gasped out loud. Fire lanced through me, and I felt my shirt rip. Warm blood trickled down my torso before the wounds closed over with unnatural speed.
Still, I didn’t stop.
I jabbed the needle into my arm. The sting was fleeting, a whisper of pain compared to the storm raging inside. The second the sedative hit my bloodstream, he faltered. His fury dulled, his howls faded to growls, then fell silent.
Peace, bitter and fleeting, settled over me like ash after a fire.
He was never fully gone. Just buried. Waiting.
It hadn’t always been like this. Once, the beast was manageable. But when that bone-deep unease crept in, when my instincts sensed danger or something unfamiliar, he rose. Wild. Brutal. Blood-hungry. I’d grown sick of the destruction, the needless death. So I made something stronger than him.
But it came with a cost.
I left the cold office and walked into the forest. The clouds shifted, moonlight spilling through the canopy. I looked up, wondering just for a breath what Vivian would think if she knew the truth about what I was. What I really was, beneath the flesh.
I swallowed hard, trying to drown the thought.
Even if she feared me, I’d still keep her.
I felt him before I heard him. A familiar flicker of presence, like a spark against dry grass.
Albericus.
He padded silently toward me through the trees, his aged frame still regal, still strong. He shouldn’t have lived this long, but he had. Because I made it so. If I was destined to walk this world alone, unclaimed and undying, then the least I could do was let my oldest companion remain beside me.
His shadow crept up behind me, thick with concern and silent judgment. When I finally turned, I caught the sharp gleam of his narrowed green eyes fixed on the small tear across my shirt, right where blood had soaked in.
He sniffed the air, catching the coppery tang.
I didn’t flinch.
The curse of a best friend who’d known me far too long was that he didn’t always listen to warnings. He’d seen me at my worst and thought that gave him the right to poke at the line. He believed he was helping. He always did.
Albericus had been urging me to step back from Vivian, to give her space. His logic made sense in theory. But he didn’t understand that the moment I decided to claim her, she became a target. That truth didn’t change no matter how carefully I tread. Pulling back wouldn’t protect her. It would just waste precious time.
"You’ve taken your shot," he said quietly.
I gave a small nod.
"That’s the fourth one since she arrived."
My jaw locked. I stared up at the moon.
"You’ve never needed this much before. She’s alrea—"
The snarl escaped before I could stop it. Low, guttural, filled with warning.
"She hasn’t changed anything," I snapped. "I’m not dying. I’m not weakening. I haven’t forgotten our plans."
But that wasn’t all of it.
"The beast just wants to mark her," I said after a beat, softer. "He’s panicking that if I wait too long, they’ll decide I shouldn’t have her at all."
Saying it aloud made my throat tighten.
I didn’t want to lose her. Not before I even knew what we could be.
Albericus exhaled through his nose and shook his head.
"So either they figured you’d be too paranoid to complete the bond, meaning no mating and no marking, or," he gave a sarcastic shrug, "they’re planning to drug you into submission."
I shot him a glare and turned to walk off. He followed.
"I’m not wrong," he muttered. "And even if she’s not a threat now, it doesn’t mean she won’t be later."
That made me stop cold.
I pivoted slowly to face him, and even he took a step back when he saw my eyes, now black with my wolf pushing forward.
Albericus didn’t hate Vivian. He just feared what she might become. What she might be turned into.
I understood that. I did.
But the weight of his doubt, after everything, was heavier than I expected.
"You think I haven’t thought of that?" I asked, voice low and dangerous. "You think I haven’t imagined every way they could use her, corrupt her, turn her into something that destroys me from the inside? You think I’m blind?"
A sharp edge in my voice, one I’d never used on him before. He felt it.
Albericus bowed his head and bared his neck in submission. I didn’t acknowledge it. I just turned toward the nearest tree, letting the fury burning under my skin have somewhere else to go.
My claws extended, and I raked them down the bark. Chunks flew. The tree groaned beneath my blows, again and again, until it finally cracked and collapsed with a deep, splintering moan.
I stared at it, breathing hard, chest heaving.
He was just trying to look out for me. Pointing out things I already knew. But even when he was right, even when I understood, some instinctive part of me couldn’t stand to hear anything said against her.
Vivian. The only good thing I’d had in longer than I could remember.
How strange, I thought.
How dangerous.
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