Chapter 4: The Scan
Vivian Grey’s POV
Zaliver lifted his hands to my face, but hesitated just briefly, as if second-guessing what he was about to do. I knew he could hear the way my breathing stuttered in my throat. His fingers finally brushed my cheek, warm against the path of tears I hadn’t even realized were still falling. Slowly, they traveled up to rest at my temples.
That’s when the heat surged.
His fingers went from warm to scorching, and I could feel my own pulse hammering beneath his touch. Then he shifted to press against the center of my forehead.
That’s when I felt it. Something not physical, not quite spiritual either. It was a pressure, like a silent wave pressing up against the walls of my mind. My instinct flared to resist, to hold my mental barriers firm. But it didn’t matter. He didn’t crash through; he slipped in. Quiet. Effortless.
I wasn’t ready for that.
There was no pain. But it didn’t make it any less invasive. It was a strange, uncomfortable sensation, like someone peeling away your clothes in front of a crowd. I couldn’t feel his hands anymore, but I knew they were still on my skin. What I felt now was something deeper, him, inside my thoughts, pushing through the most private corners of me.
He was in my head.
And not just drifting through. He was searching, sifting through memories, moments, half-buried thoughts. Everything he touched clung to him, dragged behind like shadows. I could feel my energy draining, my will slipping away under the weight of his presence.
Even my wolf recoiled.
I felt her whimper as his awareness brushed against hers. She tried to shrink away, but there was nowhere to go. She showed him our pack. The woods. Our dreams. Our loneliness. Our needs. Every insecurity I buried, every craving I wouldn’t admit to even myself, was laid bare.
I felt naked.
Images spiraled through my mind too fast to follow, memories flashing by like a reel spinning out of control. It was overwhelming. I was losing hold of myself. My focus wavered, my eyes fluttered shut, but not before I caught a glimpse of his expression.
He was watching me closely. His face moved through a storm of emotions: caution, confusion, awe. Then something else, fear, just before my world slipped into black.
His hands snapped away.
The invisible force that had been holding me upright vanished all at once. My body slumped forward, limp. Somewhere deep inside, I hoped I might just fall straight through the ground and wake up in my bed, in my room, and chalk this all up to one long, disturbing dream.
But that hope died the moment his arms caught me.
Warm and solid, they wrapped around me, pulling me close until my cheek rested against his shoulder. Zaliver scooped me up like I weighed nothing, one arm under my knees, the other supporting my back. My body betrayed me again. I wanted to melt into him. And I hated that.
"No," I growled, weak and hoarse. "Put me down."
He didn’t listen. Maybe I was too soft, or maybe he just didn’t care.
As he carried me, I could feel the strength in every step he took. His grip didn’t falter. I wanted to fight, to shove him away, but my limbs were useless. I squeezed my eyes shut, not to surrender, but to gather whatever shreds of mental strength I had left. I needed to regroup. I would fight back.
Because I’d had enough.
Enough of this overpowered jerk thinking he could do whatever he wanted. He took my choices, my body, my mind. He invaded the most private parts of me without so much as a warning because he could. He could have asked me. I would’ve told him anything. I wasn’t hiding a damn thing.
The door creaked open as we approached; someone must have opened it for him. It clicked shut behind us.
Albericus.
"So?" His voice was careful, probing.
I held still, listening for Zaliver’s answer. Why had he done all that? What was the point?
"Quiet," Zaliver said, which told me nothing at all. "Just give me time to finish going through it."
My stomach twisted. So he wasn’t done deciding what to make of me yet.
I wanted to lift my head and see his face, but it felt like my body had stopped listening.
"And?" Albericus asked, pushing open another set of doors.
Where were they taking me now?
"And nothing yet," Zaliver said, voice dipping into something more curious. "But she responds to Latin when I speak it."
Latin? Latin?! That’s what this weird language was?
I felt a sudden, sharp stir of awareness inside me.
"Isn’t that right?" Zaliver said, looking down at me.
My eyes cracked open. He tilted his head, his expression caught somewhere between wonder and suspicion. His lips were parted like he was waiting for something.
I wanted to punch him. Really hard. God or not, he deserved it.
But I just stared back at him, too tired to speak. What was the point of having a body if my own mind couldn’t command it?
Albericus’s voice came again, skeptical. "I’ve been with you for years and I still can’t follow your logic sometimes. Why would she understand it?"
Zaliver didn’t answer.
I turned my head slowly to glance at him.
And dammit.
He was beautiful when he wasn’t scowling.
Zaliver’s arms tightened around me, his grip firm but not uncomfortable. I could feel the way his body shifted with each step, steady and sure, but I kept my eyes elsewhere. I didn’t dare meet his gaze, though I could feel it burning into the side of my face. What now?
His eyes had turned cold again, those icy blue depths that didn’t just look at me but seemed to look through me. The mood hanging around him was thick and heavy, like a coming storm. And me? My stomach was flipping like it had been hijacked by a pack of jackhammers. Definitely not how I imagined being carried by a friend, assuming Zaliver even qualified as one.
He kept walking with me in his arms, down yet another hallway. The place felt like it belonged in a magazine. Soft blue walls, wooden-framed paintings that looked too expensive to be touched, and delicate little tables with vases full of fresh flowers. Everything about it whispered elegance, except me.
As we rounded a corner, I noticed several doors leading off to who knew where. I caught the sound of voices. Talking. And laughing?
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