Ruby's POV
Zaliver lifted his hands to my face, but hesitated just briefly as if second-guessing what he was about to do. I knew he could hear the way my breathing stuttered in my throat. His fingers finally brushed my cheek, warm against the path of tears I hadn't even realized were still falling. Slowly, they traveled up to rest at my temples.
That's when the heat surged.
His fingers went from warm to scorching, and I could feel my own pulse hammering beneath his touch. Then he shifted to press against the center of my forehead.
That's when I felt it something not physical, not quite spiritual either. It was a pressure, like a silent wave pressing up against the walls of my mind. My instinct flared to resist, to hold my mental barriers firm. But it didn't matter. He didn't crash through; he slipped in. Quiet. Effortless.
I wasn't ready for that.
He was right there was no pain. But it didn't make it any less invasive. It was a strange, uncomfortable sensation, like someone peeling away your clothes in front of a crowd. I couldn't feel his hands anymore, but I knew they were still on my skin. What I felt now was something deeper him, inside my thoughts, pushing through the most private corners of me.
He was in my head.
And not just drifting through. He was searching, shifting through memories, moments, and half-buried thoughts. Everything he touched clung to him, dragged behind like shadows. I could feel my energy draining, my will slipping away under the weight of his presence.
Even my wolf recoiled.
I felt her whimper as his awareness brushed against hers. She tried to shrink away, but there was nowhere to go. She showed him our pack. The woods. Our dreams. Our loneliness. Our needs. Every insecurity I buried every craving I wouldn't admit to even myself was laid bare.
I felt naked.
Images spiraled through my mind too fast to follow, memories flashing by like a reel spinning out of control. It was overwhelming. I was losing hold of myself. My focus wavered, my eyes fluttered shut... but not before I caught a glimpse of his expression.
He was watching me closely. His face moved through a storm of emotions caution, confusion, awe. Then something else fear just before my world slipped into black.
His hands snapped away.
The invisible force that had been holding me upright vanished all at once. My body slumped forward, limp like a rag doll. Somewhere deep inside, I hoped I might just fall straight through the ground and wake up in my bed, in my room, and chalk this all up to one long, disturbing dream.
But that hope died the moment his arms caught me.
Warm and solid, they wrapped around me, pulling me close until my cheek rested against his shoulder. Zaliver scooped me up like I weighed nothing, one arm under my knees, the other supporting my back. My body betrayed me again I wanted to melt into him. And I hated that.
"No," I growled, weak and hoarse. "Put me down."
He didn't listen. Maybe I was too soft, or maybe he just didn't care.
As he carried me, I could feel the strength in every step he took. His grip didn't falter. I wanted to fight, to shove him away, but my limbs were useless. I squeezed my eyes shut not to surrender, but to gather whatever shreds of mental strength I had left. I needed to regroup. I would fight back.
Because I'd had enough.
Enough of this overpowered jerk thinking he could do whatever he wanted. He took my choices, my body, my mind. He invaded the most private parts of me without so much as a warning because he could. He could have asked me. I would've told him anything. I wasn't hiding a damn thing.
The door creaked open as we approached someone must have opened it for him. It clicked shut behind us.
Algebra.
"So?" his voice was careful, probing.
I held still, listening for Zaliver's answer. Why had he done all that? What was the point?
"Clear," Zaliver rasped. "She doesn't know a thing."
My stomach twisted. So that was what this was about. He thought I was lying about something?
I wanted to lift my head and see his face, but it felt like my body had stopped listening.
"Really?" Algebra asked, pushing open another set of doors.
Where were they taking me now?
"Yeah. She's clueless... but " Zaliver's voice dipped into something more curious, "she responds to Latin when I speak it."
Latin? Latin?! That's what this weird language was?
I felt a sudden, sharp stir of awareness inside me.
"Isn't that right?" Zaliver said, looking down at me.
My eyes cracked open. He tilted his head, his expression caught somewhere between wonder and suspicion. His lips were parted like he was waiting for something.
I wanted to punch him. Really hard. God or not, he deserved it.
But I just stared back at him, too tired to speak. What was the point of having a body if my own mind couldn't command it?
Algebra's voice came again, skeptical. "What? I've been with you for years and I still can't follow your logic sometimes. Why do you think she understands it?"
Zaliver didn't answer.
I turned my head slowly to glance at him.
And dammit.
He was beautiful when he wasn't scowling.
Zaliver's arms tightened around me, his grip firm but not uncomfortable. I could feel the way his body shifted with each step, steady and sure, but I kept my eyes elsewhere. I didn't dare meet his gaze, though I could feel it burning into the side of my face. What now?
His eyes had turned cold again those icy blue depths that didn't just look at me but seemed to look through me. The mood hanging around him was thick and heavy, like a coming storm. And me? My stomach was flipping like it had been hijacked by a pack of jackhammers. Definitely not how I imagined being carried by a friend… assuming Zaliver even qualified as one.
He kept walking with me in his arms, strolling down yet another hallway. The place felt like it belonged in a magazine. Soft blue walls, wooden-framed paintings that looked too expensive to be touched, and delicate little tables with vases full of fresh flowers. Everything about it whispered elegance except me.
As we rounded a corner, I noticed several doors leading off to who-knew-where. I caught the sound of voices. Talking. And… laughing?
That's when I spotted Algebra yes, actual Algebra, the strange name still fresh in my mind slipping through one of the open doorways into a large room. Toys littered the floor along with tiny shoes. Was this where someone lived? Kids?
By the time we reached the end of the hall, a glass-floored spiral staircase curled upward to yet another level of this massive place. Corridors branched out like arteries from the heart of the home. I glanced up at the stairwell, still stunned. Was this… his packhouse?
But that didn't make sense. Zaliver wasn't just some Alpha he was the Zephyros. A wolf god. If he ruled over all, why would he need a single pack? Wouldn't every pack already belong to him?
Before I could wrap my head around it, we entered a spacious living room. Sleek black couches faced towering windows veiled with sheer curtains that poured golden sunlight across the floors. It looked like the kind of place you'd see in a dream. Warm. Alive.
Then came the kitchen a large, open space with a thick wooden table in the center. Zaliver set me gently down on one of the chairs, then turned to the counters and began pulling things out. I blinked.
Was he… cooking?
The moment we entered, the noise in the room dropped. Laughter faded. I glanced around and saw them two guys and three girls all staring at us. Or more specifically, at me, while carefully keeping Zaliver in their peripheral vision.
The two guys looked almost identical, like walking mirror images. Both had cream-blond hair slicked back and deep brown eyes. Their features were soft, almost cherubic. Definitely twins. The one on the left had sharper cheekbones, while the one on the right had a stronger jawline. Their shirts green and blue were the only quick identifiers aside from their jeans.
The girls were completely different from one another. Closest to me stood a tall girl with rich dark skin, hazel-green eyes, and a pixie-cut hairstyle that framed her striking face. Her nose was round, lips thin, posture confident.
Next to her stood someone out of a fairy tale a tiny girl, barely over five feet, with fiery red hair, deep green eyes, and a heart-shaped face that made her look almost too sweet for this world.
Beside her leaned another girl with caramel-toned skin, long black hair, soft brown eyes, and fuller lips. She looked around my age and just about my height.
They were all watching me curious and cautious. I shifted in my seat, uncertain.
I turned my attention back to Zaliver. He moved with practiced ease, taking out ingredients I couldn't quite see from my angle. His body was broad and powerful, and each muscle in his arms and back flexed with every movement. Even his legs, encased in perfectly fitted jeans, looked like they could crush bones without effort.
Get a grip, Ruby! I mentally slapped myself. You're ogling the enemy. The same enemy who scrambled your thoughts like eggs with just his fingertips!
I tried to shove the thought away, but my inner wolf wasn't helping. She practically purred at the memory.
Maybe he can scramble more than just your mind next time…
I scowled and mentally growled at her. Stop that!
Still, as I sat there, the thought kept coming back to me Zaliver knew everything about me now. My name. My scent. My past. He probably even knew the brand of shampoo I used. And me? I knew almost nothing about him beyond the titles and danger.
The group near the doorway was still eyeing us. Or rather, me. Their gazes kept shifting between me and Zaliver, like they were trying to gauge what was happening.
My face flushed. Apparently, I wasn't used to being the center of attention in a kitchen full of strangers and one ridiculously intense werewolf god. So, I cleared my throat and offered a painfully awkward attempt at socialization.
"Uh… hi."
Wow. Smooth, Ruby. Real smooth.
The tall, dark-skinned girl brightened and gave me a cheerful wave.
"Hello! I'm Amber. That's Leslie, Angela, and those two over there are Drake and Blake." She pointed to each one in turn.
So red-haired girl: Leslie. Caramel beauty: Angela. The twins… okay, I had no idea which was Drake and which was Blake, but at least I had names now.
I gave them a small smile. "Nice to meet you. I'm Ruby."
They all gave polite nods and finally stepped into the room.
The twins made a beeline for one of the massive fridges and came back with bottles sodas and water. They passed the drinks around, handing Coke to the girls. One of the twins kept the water for himself.
Leslie and Angela leaned casually against the counter, watching me with a mix of friendliness and curiosity. Amber, on the other hand, started striding toward me like she was about to sit down and strike up a conversation.
But before she could reach me, a low, guttural growl ripped through the room.
Zaliver hadn't said a word. Hadn't even looked up. But the sound that came from his throat was primal, dangerous and very, very clear.
Amber froze mid-step, eyes wide.
What. The. Hell?