The Wolf God's Unwanted Luna

Chapter 109: Breaking Point

Shifting back had always been smooth for me: so quick and effortless it felt like slipping smoothly into a second skin. But this time was entirely different. The moment the transition ended, I became painfully aware that something was terribly wrong. A strange, unnatural glow shimmered around my body, only to flicker out like a candle being smothered by heavy storm clouds.

Then came the pain.

It hit me like a iron hammer to the skull hot and blinding, making my vision swim in a sickening haze of burning reds and deep oranges. My eyes flew open just as a sharp, sickening crack shot through my left wrist, the unnatural angle twisting my stomach into tight knots.

I choked on a scream but forced it down, clamping my mouth shut and holding my breath against the dark. The fire in my lungs battled the agonizing heat in my arm. My fingers instinctively clutched my broken wrist tightly to my chest as a numbing throb pulsed through the limb, the kind of severe pain that blurred the line between searing and dull.

Another sharp snap echoed.

This time, it felt like my entire nervous system short-circuited from the sheer shock. My knees buckled beneath me, and I crumpled hard onto the porch floor, the relentless agony drawing a breathless whimper from my throat. My chest rose and fell in sharp, ragged gasps as I tried to process what was happening to me. I’d never broken a single bone before not even during my excruciating first shift years ago. And I certainly hadn’t expected this to happen now.

The heavy front door slammed open with a deafening bang.

I didn’t bother to look up. I couldn’t. The pain had me completely locked in place, my body trembling violently and my mind swimming in darkness.

A massive shadow loomed over me before swiftly lowering. A hand large, pale, entirely familiar reached out toward me. My wolf instincts immediately roared to life. I bared my teeth and snapped wildly, my beast reacting defensively before I could even think to stop her.

"Shh... shh, it’s alright. Let me take a look, Vivian."

His voice. Deep, low, extraordinarily careful. Zaliver.

I forced myself to glance up through the hazy blur of tears.

Moonlight played across the sharp angles of his face, softening his expression. His normally intense blue eyes glowed faintly in the dark, the contrast stark against his pale skin. Strands of inky black hair fell messily over his forehead, glinting silver beneath the open night sky. His right hand stayed outstretched toward me, waiting patiently, even as his other wrist bore the long, uneven iron chains from the heavy shackles he’d somehow torn completely free from the bedroom frame.