The Wolf God's Unwanted Luna

Chapter 51: Do you have a dollar

Darkness.

But not the peaceful kind that let you drift off. No, this one was dense, unsettling, and full of buzzing sounds. There was a steady beeping somewhere to my left. Faint. Monotonous. But present enough to pull me toward consciousness. Something tugged at my arm, cool and tight. A needle, maybe. I didn’t know for sure.

My body felt light, like I was floating just above the bed, but my head was wrapped in a thick fog, making every thought sluggish and out of reach. The worst of it though was the dull, aching throb just below my ribs. It was the kind of pain that stayed after being punched, pulsing with each heartbeat. Not unbearable, but enough to remind me I was still here.

I took a slow, shaky breath through my nose.

The air was cold and sterile, laced with the sharp scent of antiseptic. But underneath that, something else. Familiar. Warm. Him.

Zaliver’s scent was everywhere, like a cocoon wrapped around me, dense and unmistakable. It wasn’t just a trace. It was the kind of presence that meant someone had been here for a long time, had sat close and stayed close, had breathed this air alongside me while I wasn’t conscious to know it. Comforting. Safe. Even before I opened my eyes, I knew he had been nearby.

Maybe he still was.

But this bed didn’t feel like ours.

I tried to reach for a memory, something solid to explain what had happened, but all I could grasp were bits and pieces. Zaliver’s voice, soft and worried. Something about a gift. But it wasn’t my birthday. I hadn’t done anything special lately. So why? And where was he now?

Wait. Traveling. I remembered now, he had to leave for something. But if he was supposed to be away, why was his scent here, fresh and potent like he’d just stepped out of the room?

Confused, I blinked slowly, dragging my heavy lids open. It took everything in me just to focus.

Lavender and soft jade. That’s what greeted me, the walls painted in those gentle, calming hues. Definitely not our room.

I sat up with effort, gritting my teeth as the motion sent a jolt of pain through my abdomen. My hands trembled slightly, and then it hit me, a flash of red. My blood. I remembered now. The vomiting. The collapse. I had been on the phone with Zaliver, and then everything went dark.

He must have heard me. Realized something was wrong.

He came back.

The guilt hit before the warmth did. Sharp and immediate, twisting in my chest. He had responsibilities, things to do, places to be, and I had made him turn around. I hadn’t asked him to. I would never have asked him to. But he had come back anyway, which meant he was out there somewhere in this building, probably having cut short whatever he’d been sent to handle, because of me.

I hated that. And I was grateful for it. Both at the same time, in that particular way that had become familiar when it came to Zaliver.