The Wolf God's Unwanted Luna

Chapter 54: Run

I was running.

Not for fun. Not for sport.

I was running for my life.

For my freedom.

For my very nature.

I was running from the last person I ever imagined I’d flee from.

My mate.

Zaliver.

My feet pounded against the forest floor, kicking up dry leaves and snapping brittle twigs that seemed unnaturally loud in the eerie silence around me. My heart beat furiously, like the frantic flutter of a trapped bird, roaring in my ears and drowning out everything else.

I couldn’t hear him, but I knew he was near. I could feel it. That deep, chilling awareness in my bones. It only made me push harder, faster. The wind whipped through my hair, stinging my cheeks as I searched the shadows for a miracle, any advantage, any place to hide or escape.

But I couldn’t keep this up forever.

My legs screamed. My chest heaved. My muscles begged me to stop.

But he could keep going. He wasn’t like me. He wasn’t like anyone.

And still, I ran.

Tears stung my eyes, blurring everything in front of me. Fear, confusion, betrayal, so many emotions battled for space in my chest. But one rose above them all.

Hatred.

For my own mate.

For Zaliver.

He was doing this. Forcing this. All because he couldn’t handle the idea of another male laying claim to me. As if my autonomy didn’t matter. As if his pride meant more than my will.

I should have seen this coming. I should have known his possessiveness had limits, and I’d just pushed him past them. I underestimated how deeply he distrusted the bond that tied us together.

Now he was out to prove something.

Something cruel.

Every time I thought I heard him behind me, I’d whip around only to find shadows. Nothing there. But each time, I swore I could feel him. The warmth of his breath ghosting across the back of my neck. The weight of his presence pressing into my spine.

And his breathing. Rough. Ragged. Cold.

I used to laugh at horror movies, those moments when the girl would run, glance back, and trip over nothing. Not so funny now. When you’re being hunted, every instinct screams to check behind you. Distance feels like safety, and tripping feels like death.

And sometimes, just when I thought I had a lead, he’d blow past me. Not with a sound, not with a growl, just a blur. A gust of wind so forceful I nearly toppled over. Every time, it made my heart crash against my ribs in panic. I’d fall, scrape my knees, slam my palms into the dirt, but I’d always scramble up again and run in a different direction.