The Wolf God's Unwanted Luna

Chapter 83: Penance

Before Vivian, I could go months without the serum that dulled the beast inside me. I could fake normalcy, even civility. Now it clawed at me daily, whispering dark thoughts, urging me to tear and shred and maim anyone who dared breathe wrong in my direction. I’d nearly taken off the head of my best friend’s ex for spouting vague warnings without any actual answers.

And yes. I might’ve spent an hour curled up with her pillow like a love-struck idiot.

Her scent still clung to the fabric. Sweet, warm, and somehow still wild, like vanilla tangled with a storm. It wrapped around me and dragged me back to memories I hadn’t earned. Her soft hair, always slipping in front of her face. The way her eyes lit up at the simplest of things, and how she had this infuriating talent for turning the mundane into something worth paying attention to. Her laugh. Her sharp tongue. Her curves. I missed all of it and hated that I did and missed it anyway.

This was my penance.

I leaned back in the chair and stared through the window, eyes tracking nothing, waiting for Albericus to report in. He was working through every corner of the pack, looking for the mole. If he didn’t bring me results soon, I’d start going through people myself until someone gave me a name.

My jaw clenched.

Aurora’s warnings had painted a target without giving me anything to aim at. I needed more. Digging through layers of secrets while trying to keep the beast from surfacing was wearing me down faster than I wanted to admit. And still, despite everything, the worst part wasn’t the betrayal or the threat. It was knowing that while I was completely and stupidly consumed by her, someone used that gap to move against Vivian. Against her specifically.

I’d failed her.

I’d chosen every pack member by hand, vetted them, given them purpose and shelter and my trust. I’d believed I’d built something that couldn’t be cracked. And yet someone had moved right under my nose and played me for a fool. I wasn’t just angry at them. I was disgusted with myself.

I didn’t regret being with her, not for a single second of it. What I regretted was bringing her into a world that was never safe to begin with. I should’ve been more careful. Should’ve made sure she’d never be touched by the kind of filth I wade through daily. Bringing her here was supposed to mean protection. Instead, I’d handed her directly to the thing I swore she’d never face.

And now I was one of the things she needed protection from.

A rookie mistake. The kind I hadn’t made in a very long time. And now it was sitting on my chest like something I’d earned.

I had suspects. Too many. Under normal circumstances I could narrow it down quickly, calculate patterns, motives, likely windows of opportunity. But right now my mind was fractured and I hated knowing the reason. Vivian. Every line of thought eventually traced back to her, and the ones that didn’t were fighting harder than they should’ve had to.

When she saw me again, I fully expected her to try to tear me apart. And honestly, I’d let her. After everything I’d done, all the control I’d forced on her, all the truths I’d wrapped in half-explanations and timed silences, I deserved worse than whatever she’d throw at me. I could acknowledge that, even if a part of me still defaulted to calculating bastard as a coping mechanism.