The Wolf God's Unwanted Luna

Chapter 55: Curveball

A killing machine? Zaliver. My thoughts splintered into a thousand pieces, and for a moment, all I could do was stare at him, stunned and silent.

"I have all this strength, all this control, and for what?" His voice cracked like thunder, bitter and jagged. He let out a sharp, mirthless laugh, stepping back from me, his hands tugging through his hair as he shook his head slowly, like he was trying to shake off ghosts only he could see.

I didn’t move. I just watched, my chest tight with unease as his energy shifted into something darker. Something haunted.

"We were human once. All of us. Chosen, trained, molded for them," he said, and there was a hollow ache behind every word. "But I didn’t even know who ’they’ were at the time. The control they had over our minds back then, it was terrifying. We were loyal, like a brotherhood with the other soldiers. But the gods? The real ones? They were untouchable. Distant. We weren’t allowed near them unless summoned."

He paused, eyes distant. "We worshiped them. I worshiped them. Blindly. Faithfully. I don’t remember everything about that life, but there’s one thing I do remember. My brother."

My heart lurched.

"Your brother?" I asked softly, barely able to get the words out.

He gave a single nod. "Yeah. I had a brother. And they slaughtered him."

The horror of it sent ice skittering down my spine. My stomach clenched, but I had a sinking feeling it wasn’t even the worst of it.

"Actually," his voice dropped to a broken whisper, "I slaughtered him."

For a second, I couldn’t breathe.

"They wanted proof, proof that our loyalty to the gods was greater than anything else. Even blood. They made us show them," he said, and something shattered in his voice. "I was the better fighter. Always had been. Joshula never stood a chance. He didn’t even fight back. And when it was over, they didn’t even let me bury him. Just took his body like he was nothing."

Zaliver stared down at his hands as if expecting them to still be soaked in blood. A long silence stretched between us, filled with the weight of everything he’d said. When he spoke again, his voice was quiet, raw with grief.

I swallowed hard, unsure if the ache I felt in my chest was mine or his. Maybe both. To be forced to kill your only family, there were no words in any language that could fix that kind of wound. His body bore no scars, but I could feel them seared deep into his soul.

Then, suddenly, like a storm snapping back to life, he looked up at me with a wild, unsettling smile. His blue eyes gleamed with something twisted.

"So I trained harder. I got stronger. Better. I outmatched every one of them. If I could take down hundreds, why would they need thousands?" His lips curled with a cruel edge. "So I took them out. All my competitors. One by one. Earned the bastards’ trust. Climbed the ranks. Became more than a soldier. I became family." His laugh was dark. Bitter. "Funny, right?"