Filed to story: Tangled in Moonlight Unshifted Novel by Lenaleia
If Ava is wolfless, the odd connection would make sense, The Blackwood Pack never did anything to her. And if I were to be fully honest, the connection had begun on sight, before I had ever scented her.
It had to be fate.
It is, my wolf growls. And you threw our mate away.
Shit.
I blow out a shaky breath and try to shove all that to the side for a moment. If I don’t, I might just throw my fucking desk through the window. Son of a fucking bitch. My mate. And I let her go.
Let her disappear.
Fuck!
My wolf howled incessantly in my head as I picked up the letter again, rereading it and letting every word stab into my heart. Mistreated. Neglected. Assaulted.
My Ava. My sweet, perfect mate.
Fuck.
And to know the plans Alpha Blackwood had made for that sweet girl?
The pieces of the puzzle are falling into place, painting a picture far more disturbing than I could have imagined. My wolf stirs within me, a low growl rumbling in my chest as the urge to protect Ava surges through my veins.
But I can’t let my emotions cloud my judgment. I need to approach this situation with a level head, to gather more information and devise a plan of action. The safety of my pack, and now Ava’s as well, depends on it.
I crush the letter in my fist, a growl building in my throat. How could they treat her like this? Their own daughter, their own blood? The thought of Ava suffering at the hands of her socalled family makes my stomach churn with revulsion and rage.
And now she’s missing, disappeared into the night like a ghost. The memory of her in my arms, the feel of her soft skin against mine, the taste of her lips… it all comes rushing back, tainted by the knowledge of her pain.
I should have known something was wrong that night. The way she trembled in my embrace, the desperate hunger in her kisses, was more than just desire. It was the actions of a woman starved for affection, for the simple warmth of human touch.
And I pushed her away. I let my own fears and suspicions cloud my judgment, let my anger at the Blackwood Pack blind me to the truth of the woman in front of me.
I need to find her, to make things right. But where do I even begin?
The bell above the door jingles, signaling another customer’s arrival at The Novel Grind. I glance up from where I’m restocking the pastry case and feel a smile tugging at my lips. It’s become such a familiar routine these past four monthsthe steady flow of customers, the aroma of freshly brewed coffee mingling with the scent of old books, the comfortable chatter filling the cozy space.
I nod in acknowledgment, my hands continuing their task of arranging the muffins and scones just so. This place has become more than just a job to me; it’s a sanctuary, a haven where I can breathe easy and simply exist without the weight of expectations bearing down on me.
As I work, my mind wanders to the evening ahead. It’s been two weeks since Franklin and his wife, Emily, last had me over for dinner. I’m looking forward to the homecooked meal and easy conversation, a stark contrast to the strained silences and disapproving glances that used to fill my family dinners back home.
A pang of guilt tugs at my heart, but I quickly push it away. This is my life now, the life I’ve chosen, and I won’t let the ghosts of the past haunt me anymore.
“Here you go, dear,” Mrs. Elkins says, placing a steaming cup of coffee on the counter in front of me. “Don’t forget, you’ve got that class this afternoon.”
I nod, gratefully accepting the mug and taking a sip of the rich, robust brew. The summer course I’ve signed up forIntroduction to Literatureis a small step, but it’s a step in the right direction. With my limited savings, I can only afford one class this summer semester, but I’m determined to make the most of it.
As the morning rush begins to taper off, I take a moment to simply breathe and appreciate the quiet moments in between. This is my life now, a life of my own making, and for the first time in as long as I can remember, I feel a sense of peace settling over me.
I glance up from shelving a stack of paperbacks, my gaze instinctively drawn to the two men seated at one of the corner tables. Their murmured conversation drifts through the quiet hum of the café, and a chill races down my spine as I catch the unmistakable scent of shifters.
I’m not sure how I didn’t notice it before.
My knees threaten to buckle, but I force myself to maintain an air of nonchalance, casually sliding books into their designated spots as I strain to eavesdrop. Snippets of their discussion filter through.
…a powerhungry bastard, that’s what Blackwood is,” one of them grumbles into his coffee cup. “Dragging us all into his feud with that hothead Westwood.”
I freeze, my fingers tightening around the book in my grasp. Westwood… that’s Lucas. The name ignites a flicker of memory, one I swiftly smother before it can fully take shape. That part of my life is over, a closed chapter I’ve sworn to leave behind.
“Can’t fathom why our alpha is so hellbent on finding that Blackwood girl,” the other man scoffs. “She’s more trouble than she’s worth.”
The book slips from my trembling hands, clattering to the floor with a dull thud. I drop into a crouch, my heart thundering in my ears as I hastily gather the scattered pages. That Blackwood girlthey can’t be talking about me, can they? But a sickening realization settles in the pit of my stomach. Of course they are.
Panic claws at my throat, but I force it down, reminding myself to breathe. No one knows where I am, not really. I’m safe here, anonymous and unassuming, just another face in the crowd. Straightening, I flash a tight smile at the oblivious shifters and make my way back behind the counter, my hands shaking ever so slightly.
***
Class goes by in a blur, the lecturer’s voice fading into a dull murmur as my mind drifts. I can’t seem to shake the nagging sense of unease that’s been clinging to me ever since overhearing those shifters at the cafe. Their words echo in my head, an endless loop of doubt and fear that threatens to unravel the fragile peace I’ve managed to construct for myself.
As the final bell rings, signaling the end of the period, I gather my things on autopilot, my movements mechanical and detached. The hallway is a sea of bodies, students rushing to their next class or spilling out into the sunshine, but I barely register their presence. It’s as if I’m encased in a bubble, separate and isolated from the world around me.
A light tap on my shoulder shatters the illusion, and I
WIT
can’t stifle the startled scream that tears from my throat. My textbook thuds as it hits the ground. I whirl around to face my attacker, my heart pounding a frantic rhythm against my ribcage.
“Whoa, hey, it’s okay!” A man’s voice, laced with concern, cuts through the haze of panic clouding my mind. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”
My gaze focuses on the figure before me, and I feel the tension bleed from my body as I take in his unassuming appearancea slightly rumpled buttondown shirt, a warm, disarming smile, and eyes that hold nothing but gentle curiosity.
He’s human.
Of course he is. I’m being ridiculous, letting my fears get the better of me. Exhaling a shaky breath, I force a selfdeprecating chuckle, willing my racing heart to slow.
“No, no, I’m sorry,” I manage, bending to retrieve my fallen books. “You just startled me, that’s all.”
The man crouches down to help, gathering the scattered pages with an easy, unhurried grace. “Well, I definitely didn’t mean to do that,” he says with a wry grin. “I was just going to ask if you might be interested in grabbing a coffee with me sometime?”
The words are like a bucket of ice water, dousing the lingering embers of panic still smoldering within me. My lips part in surprise, and for a beat, I simply stare at him, at a loss for words.
Of course, this is a perfectly normal situationa guy asking a girl out for coffee, nothing more. But after everything I’ve been through, every instinct within me is screaming at me to politely decline and retreat.
Swallowing hard, I offer him a small, regretful smile. “That’s really sweet of you,” I murmur, “but I’m not really looking to date anyone right now.”
To his credit, the man doesn’t miss a beat. He simply nods, his expression one of understanding rather than disappointment. “No problem at all,” he says easily, rising to his feet and offering me a hand up. “I figured I’d just shoot my shot, you know?”
I accept his proffered hand, allowing him to pull me upright. “Well, I appreciate the thought,” I tell him, and I truly do. It’s a stark reminder that, despite the lingering shadows of my past, I’m just a normal girl trying to navigate the world like anyone else.
With a final, friendly smile, the man gives a little wave and continues on his way, leaving me standing in the hallway with a strange sense of lightness in my chest. Then I check my phone when it buzzes, and it all fades away.
[LISA BURNER: Your brother’s looking for you. I think he believes me that I don’t know anything, but I’m not sure. I’m deleting everything off this phone just in case. I have a bad feeling about this]
[AVA: Be careful. It might be better if we don’t talk for a few weeks. I just heard two shifters talking earlier today; it looks like they’re finally searching.]
[LISA BURNER: I love you, Ave. I’m worried. Have I been watching too many crime documentaries? Anyway, I’ll text you when it’s safer.]
I clutch my phone in fear, the plastic case digging into my palm as I rush out of the lecture hall. My heart pounds with a frantic rhythm, echoing the chaos in my mind. The two shifters’ words replay in an endless loop, fueling the fear that coils tighter with each passing second.
Escape. I need to escape.
I weave through the throngs of students, desperate to put as much distance between myself and those who might be searching for me. The world around me blurs into a kaleidoscope of colors and faces, each one a potential threat. I can’t shake the feeling that eyes are watching my every move, that danger lurks in every shadow.
The bus stop offers a brief respite, and I collapse onto the bench, gasping for air. My eyes dart back and forth, scanning the crowd for any sign of pursuit. The minutes crawl by, each one amplifying the tension coiled within me.
Finally, the bus arrives, and I board with a sense of urgency, clutching my bag close to my chest. As it lurches forward, I sink into a seat near the back, my gaze fixed on the window, searching for any suspicious figures or movements.
The ride is a blur of paranoia, every passenger a potential enemy. I study their faces, their mannerisms, looking for any telltale signs that might give away their true nature. But all I see are ordinary people, oblivious to the fear that grips me.
When the bus finally reaches my stop, I practically leap from my seat. Relief washes over me as I spot Selene waiting patiently, her bright blue eyes a beacon of familiarity in a world that suddenly feels so hostile.
“Selene,” I breathe, my voice trembling. She trots over to me, her tail wagging, and for a moment, the weight on my shoulders eases. Together, we hurry towards the safety of my apartment, my steps quickening with each passing block.
The moment I step inside, the floodgates open. I slide down against the door, burying my face in my hands as sobs wrack my body. Fear, frustration, and a deep sense of isolation crash over me in waves, threatening to drown me in their depths.
Selene whines softly, nuzzling against my side, her warmth a comforting presence in the midst of my turmoil. I cling to her, my fingers tangling in her soft fur, drawing strength from her unwavering loyalty.
The tears flor freely, a release of the pentup emotions that have been building within me. I cry for the life I’ve lost, for the family that has turned their backs on me, for the constant threat of discovery that looms over me like a dark cloud.
I startle awake, my cheek pressed against my knees as the last vestiges of a nightmare cling to the edges of my consciousness. Disoriented, I blink away the haze of sleep, taking in the familiar surroundings of my apartment, lit only by moonlight peeking in through the window.
A soft whine draws my attention to Selene, curled up at my feet, her piercing blue eyes regarding me with concern. A wave of affection washes over me as I reach out to stroke her silky fur, her presence a constant reminder that I’m not truly alone in this world.