The Wolf God's Unwanted Luna

Chapter 106: Dinner with Danger

Somehow, knowing I had Zaliver right where I wanted him dulled the sharpness of my resentment. I wasn’t even close to forgiving him, no chance in hell, but there was something immensely satisfying in watching him experience a taste of what I went through... maybe even a bit more.

"Vivian!" he bellowed from upstairs again, his voice shaking the floorboards.

I rolled my eyes. "What!" I called back with zero urgency.

"Come up here!"

I smirked, taking my time stirring the food. "Nah!"

His responding growl echoed heavily through the house, and I couldn’t help but laugh to myself.

After I finished up in the kitchen, I plated the food and balanced it on two trays—don’t ask me why there were trays in this place. I added two glasses of water and carried everything upstairs, steady and careful, to where a very much awake and very annoyed Zaliver waited. Pushing the door open with my hip, I stepped inside.

He sat up on the bed, eyes narrowing between me and the food like he was expecting some kind of elaborate trick. I rolled my eyes and placed the tray on the nightstand beside the bed. Taking my own plate, I headed over to the small couch and settled down.

Zaliver picked up his fork and gave the food a tentative, suspicious poke.

"You know, that’s kinda offensive," I said flatly, taking a bite of my own dinner. "And no, I didn’t poison it. Where am I even supposed to get poison? Pretty sure the dollar store doesn’t carry that kind of thing."

He glanced at me, then back at the plate, and after a beat, finally began eating.

At first, I watched him out of the corner of my eye. But the way he inhaled his food? Like a starving wolf. It made me pause mid-bite. The man was devouring it like he hadn’t seen a proper meal in days. I sighed softly, setting my own plate down on the coffee table and standing up. That look in his eyes when I moved—half alert, half worried—was weirdly satisfying.

I didn’t say anything. I just turned and went downstairs to get him another serving. Call it an instinct, but I knew he’d be eyeing mine the second he cleared his plate if I didn’t.