The Wolf God's Unwanted Luna

Chapter 125: A View From Above

I... wasn’t sure. The intense anger I had once carried had dulled over time, replaced instead by the heavier weight of uncertainty about my ongoing transformation, my upcoming heat cycle, and my rapidly changing identity.

"I still feel something about it," I admitted slowly, lowering my eyes to the damp dirt beneath my boots. "But not like before. Maybe because I’m too focused on everything else the change, the heat. It’s hard to hold on to anger when you’re barely holding yourself together."

He stepped closer, the soft sound of autumn leaves crunching beneath his heavy boots the only warning before he gently tipped my chin up with his fingers. The filtered twilight made his eyes seem impossibly blue, like calm waves in the middle of this wild, green forest.

"I’m sorry," he murmured softly. "All I seem to do is give you headaches and heartaches. I’m not exactly winning ’Mate of the Year,’ am I?"

My heart twisted in my chest, thoroughly confused by the rare look in his eyes and the way his deep voice broke just slightly. He actually meant that.

"Headaches? Definitely. Heartache? Not as much," I replied, my voice softer this time.

"But still aches?" he asked, tilting his head with genuine concern.

I smiled faintly. "Only the good kind."

He raised a dark brow. "Oh really?" His thumb gently brushed across my cheek in slow, soothing strokes that made it hard to formulate a coherent thought.

"I think," I said, trying to steady myself with calm words, "that no matter how angry I’ve been or how messy things got between us, we still managed to move forward. We learned more about each other what we need, what we want and that counts for something. The road’s been bumpy, but... maybe we needed the bumps. You’re not a bad mate, Zaliver. You’re just learning things you never had to worry about before. And I’m discovering pieces of myself I didn’t even know existed."

His eyes darkened, not with anger, but with something far deeper, something intensely possessive. "I don’t deserve you," he said, his voice dropping low like a sacred vow, "but you’re mine now."

I barely had time to respond before my back met the rough bark of a nearby tree and his warm lips found mine.

The kiss started gentle, slow, and reverent. But as the familiar heat began to stir low in my belly, his movements became more urgent, his mouth more demanding. I found myself clinging to him, one hand gripping the sturdy fabric of his shirt, the other threading tightly into his damp hair.

Even though everything inside me buzzed with sudden need, this time, I had enough clarity to pull away or at least try to. I began to shift my posture, attempting to slide sideways out from under him.