Chapter 40: AURORA
Zaliver’s POV
I exhaled slowly, trying to push out the frustration clawing at my chest. My gaze locked onto the distant pack house. It was buried deep in the forest, miles away, but that didn’t matter. Not for someone like me. Through branches, trees, and thick night, I saw it as clearly as if I stood at its doorstep.
I tuned everything else out. The rustling wind, the low howls in the distance, even the steady heartbeat of the earth below us, gone. All I could hear now was the pack house. It was like slipping into another form entirely. Disembodied. Invisible. Like a ghost.
My senses cut through walls and floors with ease, moving past thumping TVs, muffled music, hushed arguments, flirtatious whispers, the soft breathing of wolves lost in sleep. A couple arguing in hushed, heated tones on the second floor, the kind of argument that had been had before and would be had again. Three pups long since unconscious in the east wing, their breathing the slow, even rhythm of the truly untroubled. Johnson, still awake somewhere on the fourth floor, muttering what sounded like a list of grievances under his breath, and a voice that was probably Mila telling him to go to sleep.
I slid past them all, until I reached her. My room. Vivian.
She was already in bed.
Her heartbeat pulsed gently in my ears, rhythmic and soft, soothing in a way I hated to admit. She shifted beneath the covers, metal dragging faintly against silk. Then she lay still for a minute, only to toss again like her body couldn’t settle. The chain, though not meant to comfort, tethered her in more ways than one. And the knowledge that she couldn’t rest without me nearby? That twisted sense of control satisfied something dark inside me.
Satisfied, I slowly pulled my senses back and turned my attention to the silent figure standing beside me, my beta, my oldest friend.
"You know what the worst part of this mate thing is?" My voice was quiet, but it carried the weight of a truth I rarely allowed myself to speak aloud.
He didn’t answer.
"They sent her to me," I said, turning to face him. His expression was unreadable, but his eyes locked onto mine with sharp focus.
"I figured you’d be pleased. You always looked at mated pairs like you wanted what they had. So why does having her bother you so much, aside from the obvious?" he asked, words careful, cautious.
I clenched my jaw.
"Because they can take her away."
My voice was flat, but the ache behind those words was sharp and buried deep. I didn’t let it show on my face. I never did. But for a second I felt it, that specific hollow place where certainty should be, the space that had grown in me over centuries of watching others hold onto things I couldn’t. I’d lived long enough to know that anything given could be taken. Anything wanted could be used against you.
And I wanted her.
That was the problem.
I swallowed that vulnerability and straightened. I pushed away the man haunted by what-ifs and pulled on the skin of the commander, the one who didn’t flinch, who made the hard calls.
"How are the preparations going?" My voice snapped back to the cold sharpness I was known for. "Anything I need to get involved in?"
He didn’t hesitate.
"All proceeding according to plan. Nothing in this division that requires your direct intervention." He mirrored my tone, clean and professional.
"Tell Hogan to check in with me first thing in the morning. I’ll be heading to New Orleans and New York next week. Make sure he, Luke, and Sawyer all know their roles while I’m gone. Also have the lab results from the blood tests delivered directly to my desk. No one else reads them. Understood?"
As I started walking toward the pack house, my beta moved beside me.
"Understood. Anything else?"
I glanced at him over my shoulder. "How’s the search for Aurora?"
His face darkened, tension crawling across his features. His hands curled into fists.
I needed Aurora for my own reasons, reasons tied to what was coming. But Albericus had his own vendetta. Whatever happened once I got what I needed from the witch, even I wasn’t sure how that story would end. The past ran deep between them.
"She’s slippery," he muttered. "But I’m close. Her banishment from the covens limits her. She’s losing options. Just need to crack her defenses."
I nodded once.
"Two weeks. No more. Time is not a luxury when war is on the horizon."
I didn’t wait for a reply. I kept walking.
As I neared the pack house, wolves crossed my path. Some dipped their heads in silent respect; others paused to exchange brief words. I offered only nods in return. My mind was already ahead of my body, racing up the stairs before my feet even touched them.
When I reached the top floor, I moved at a speed that blurred the world around me. The door to the room didn’t make a sound as I slipped inside, silent as breath.
Vivian lay curled on the bed, those new pajamas hugging her curves. She smelled intoxicating tonight. Rich and warm and wholly herself. The part of me that had grown used to seeing her in my clothes, sleeping wrapped in my scent, felt a faint twinge of something at the sight of her in her own things. She was making a space for herself. Creating her own comfort. A sign of independence.
And still, she’d threaded the chain through the sleeves like it belonged there.
My lips twitched at the sight. Damn. She was right. I was a jackass.
I stood over her for a long moment, quietly studying the way her chest rose and fell, the way her fingers had curled around the chain in her sleep like she’d made peace with it, or maybe just made peace with me.
I wasn’t sure which one unsettled me more.
I reached down and unclipped it from her wrists, careful not to wake her.
She didn’t need the chains tonight. She wasn’t going anywhere.
Neither was I.
Tomorrow there would be lab results, and a mark to place, and a war beginning to take shape somewhere on the horizon. Tonight, there was only this.
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