Chapter 237: The Lingering Mark
Vivian’s POV
Zahliver gave a brief nod and walked away, heading straight into our master bedroom and disappearing right into the bathroom. I paused at the open threshold, feeling a bit unsure if I should follow him just yet. Joshula lingered near his own doorway too, and our eyes met in the quiet hall.
I offered him a tentative smile, trying my best to express genuine kindness, support, and maybe a little touch of please do not judge me all at the same time. Honestly, I was still trying hard to wrap my head around the crazy fact that this man was Zahliver’s long-lost brother the very same brother Zahliver had once thought was gone forever. Now he was standing right here in our hallway like no time had passed at all.
Meeting new people had never been an easy task for me. Toss in the heavy fact that he was direct family to the most powerful werewolf alive and had somehow returned completely from the dead, and my personal awkwardness practically tripled. I seriously needed some sort of manual. Something like How to Not Screw Up Meeting Your Mate’s Resurrected Sibling.
He tilted his head slightly, looking curious, before a slow smile curved the corners of his lips. It did not feel forced at all. It was just genuine enough to quiet the nervous tension humming tightly inside my chest. My wolf and I stayed silent and watchful. We were not exactly wary of him, just deeply unsure. Still, sensing how much he truly mattered to Zahliver made us want to try. That had to count for something.
I gave him a polite little nod before slipping inside our room and gently closing the wooden door behind me. I could already hear Zahliver moving around busily in the bathroom.
I did not bother knocking because I never needed to. When I walked in, he did not glance up at first, being far too focused on peeling something tight off his body. I hopped right up onto the smooth bathroom counter and sat there, watching him with a curious frown as he stripped down.
That strange suit he had worn into battle... it was made of some unusual, jet-black material that clung tightly to his skin like a second layer. And while I did not exactly hate the way it fit his strong frame, it definitely did not look like it offered much physical protection. My brows furrowed deeply as he peeled the dark fabric away from his torso, rolling it down to his hips until he stood completely bare.
"You did not actually go into a brutal battle wearing only that thin thing, did you?" I asked, genuine concern threading straight through my voice.
Though most of the enemy blood had stained only the outer material, some of it had clearly seeped through the tight fabric. Dark splotches clung to his chest, both upper and lower, and faint sprays of crimson dotted one side of his handsome face. But looking closer, there were no open wounds. No deep gashes. No torn flesh anywhere.
Just him standing there completely whole and healthy. And that wonderful fact alone made everything else blur into total insignificance.
He looked over his shoulder at me and gave a crooked, knowing grin. "No, of course not. I had heavy armor layered on top of it. I just took it off the moment I returned home," he said smoothly. "Why do you ask? Were you worried I would get completely torn up and end up fighting naked?"
His eyebrow lifted with playful mischief, and I rolled my eyes so hard it almost hurt.
"No, I was not worried about that. I just like knowing the man I love is not charging blindly into death traps without some basic protection," I muttered defensively.
He gave a thoughtful hum, his dark eyes lingering on me for a moment longer than necessary, before he finally turned away. Just before he did, however, something strange on his upper back caught my eye. I blinked hard. A faint mark of some kind, maybe. I was not entirely sure what it was.
The loud sound of rushing water suddenly filled the room as he stepped into the glass shower enclosure and turned on the hot spray. Thick steam quickly began to gather around him, curling softly into the damp air.
I did not really need a shower myself, but the strong urge to be close to him to feel his warm skin, to know he was really here and safe with me pulled at my heart.
As I instinctively tugged my oversized sweater up and over my head, something out in the hallway made my ears twitch. It was a subtle, metallic sound far too soft for ordinary human hearing, but certainly not too soft for mine.
I glanced back toward the shower. Then, with pure curiosity pulling me forward, I stepped out of the bathroom and walked back out into the quiet bedroom.
I paused mid-step, my ears flicking intently at the faint, strange noise echoing down the hall metal scraping against wood, perhaps? My wolf went instantly alert, curiosity prickling sharply through my nerves.
I followed the faint sound straight to its source. It was coming from inside Joshula’s guest room.
"Hey, is everything alright in there?" I called out loudly through the closed door, giving a polite knock when I did not get an immediate answer.
After a short silence, his voice finally came through the wood sounding hesitant and slightly flustered.
"Um... Vivian? Would you mind helping me with something for a second?"
I smiled softly to myself at the nervous edge hiding clearly in his tone. What on earth did he need now? Did he already break something in the room?
At least it is not us breaking things this time, my wolf quipped dryly in the back of my mind.
Small victories, my beast replied with a soft huff.
I pushed the heavy door open and stepped into his room, scanning the space for him but finding no one in sight until Joshula suddenly appeared from the adjoining bathroom, thick steam rolling out behind him. A white towel hung low around his hips, and I quickly redirected my gaze away from his bare chest straight up to his face. His very familiar, bright green eyes were definitely the only safe place to look right now.