The Wolf God's Unwanted Luna

Chapter 120: Echoes in the Silence

I clutched both sides of my head, squeezing my eyes shut tight, desperate to block out everything the voice, the racing thoughts, the horrifying reality.

"No, no, no," I whispered over and over like a chant, as if repeating it enough times could magically force the world to change.

Her voice echoed inside my mind with a cold, terrifying kind of calm.

"Wishing me away won’t do anything, but I’ll leave you for now."

And just like that, she vanished. Not entirely, though. I could still feel her lingering presence, curled up somewhere in the dark depths of my subconscious like a dormant storm waiting for the right moment to wake again.

My wolf nudged forward, unsettled and deeply restless. Everything inside me felt scrambled, like static humming through my blood.

I needed to move. I needed something anything to distract me before I completely unraveled.

First things first: I had to get off the cold floor and stop looking like my entire world had just cracked wide open. I reached down, picked up the towel that had slipped earlier, and trudged upstairs to the bedroom, pausing only briefly to glance at the gaping hole in the hallway wall. A grim, physical reminder of the chaos I could barely hold together.

While I dressed, tugging on soft cotton and denim like armor, my mind flipped back and forth relentlessly. Should I stay in our room tonight? Would it even make a difference? Probably not. But it felt safer not to safer for me, and safer for everyone else in this house.

I tried sitting in the guest room for a minute, but that lasted all of three seconds.

Nope. Sitting meant thinking. And right now, thinking was dangerous. My brain had the potential to dig up far too much: Zaliver’s sudden withdrawal, the mark on my skin, her, and the bond pulsing beneath my flesh.

I needed something mindless and completely solo. Something where I couldn’t hurt anyone if I lost control again.

And that’s how I ended up wandering into the library.

It was massive, lined with dark wooden shelves from floor to ceiling, smelling richly of old pages and quiet memories. It felt warm and homey in a way that almost didn’t fit the sleek, modern architecture of the rest of the pack house. Plush chairs, worn-in couches, and a few bean bags were tucked into cozy corners the kind of space where you could easily lose hours without realizing it.

I collapsed onto one of the oversized couches with a random book from the shelf and a plate of leftover food I’d scavenged from the fridge. The words on the page blurred together a few times before I could finally force my brain to focus. But after a while, my pulse evened out, and I started to breathe again.

Hours passed like that quiet, still, and manageable.

Eventually, boredom crept back in. I found myself heading back upstairs, wandering into our shared room. It felt strange stepping inside, like walking into a room where a heavy conversation had been abruptly cut off mid-sentence.

I started looking around for the laptop, thinking internet rabbit holes would make a decent distraction. I checked near the bed where it usually sat.

Instead, I found something else entirely.

Lifting one of Zaliver’s large pillows, two items stared right back at me: a neatly folded peach dress... and a small white plastic card.

Frowning in confusion, I picked them both up. The dress looked far too familiar. I unfolded it slowly, and the moment the soft fabric loosened, my own scent hit me like a physical wave. My brows drew tightly together.