Filed to story: Tangled in Moonlight Unshifted Novel by Lenaleia
Another arrow forms, sleeker than the first. It travels further but still misses the mark.
One last try. I picture a long, flaming lance in my mind. “Standby. Shape. Fire.”
The brace hums louder than before. A brilliant spear of flame bursts forth, streaking across the clearing. For a moment, I think it might actually reach the tree. But it fizzles out just shy of the target, leaving a scorched patch of grass in its wake, a clear circle without snow.
The brace goes silent. I tap it uselessly, but nothing happens. “I think it’s dead again.”
“Marvelous!” The Grand Sage claps his hands together, seemingly oblivious to my disappointment. “Such variety in the projections! And did you notice the increased range with each attempt?”
I hadn’t, actually. My focus had been on hitting the damn tree. But now that he mentions it, each shot did go a bit further than the last. It’s something, I guess.
A gust of wind cuts through the clearing, and I shiver violently. In all the excitement, I’d forgotten how cold it was out here. I bring my hands to my mouth, breathing on my frozen fingers in a futile attempt to warm them.
“Perhaps we should call it a day,” the Grand Sage suggests, finally noticing my discomfort. “We’ve gathered plenty of data for now.”
“Agreed.” My teeth chatter slightly as I speak. “I could use a hot drink and about twelve blankets.”
LISA
As we make our way back to camp, I’m acutely aware of my three bodyguards following silently behind us. They’ve been stoic throughout this whole ordeal, even after nearly becoming collateral damage earlier. I wonder what they really think about all this.
Wolf’s Landing comes into view after a mile of trudging through snow, a sprawling collection of tents and cabins. It’s a far cry from the cozy apartment I shared with Ava in Westwood, but it’s home now.
As we walk, I catch snippets of conversation from passing wolves. Most of it revolves around patrol schedules, supply inventories, and the latest gossip. But every so often, I hear whispers about the Grand Sage’s strange inventions.
It’s funny. Most of the pack has no idea what we’re really working on out here. They see the gnome as some kind of eccentric engineer, tinkering away in his tent. But many wear his crowning achievement on their wrists—those “magic watches” that have revolutionized how we communicate across long distances.
I glance down at my own watch, marveling at how something so small can be so crucial. It’s not perfect—sometimes the signal drops, or messages get garbled—but it’s a lifeline for our scouting parties, once out of the range of their strange pack mind link thing.
Of course, all watches need to be linked in order to send or receive. There’s a couple master watches (worn by the pack alpha and beta, of course), but several are linked to others, like a mate or direct superior. Or something. I don’t know exactly how it works; I’m not super hip on the chain of command stuff they do around here.
The Grand Sage’s voice breaks through my reverie. “I’ll need to make some adjustments to the brace. Perhaps a larger blood reservoir… or we could experiment with different types of crystals for energy storage, but we don’t have many to work with.”
I nod, only half-listening. My mind is already drifting to the promise of warmth and comfort waiting in Kellan’s cabin. “Sounds good. And maybe on not blowing up random innocents when I make a single mistake.”
He chuckles, patting my arm. “Of course, of course. Rome wasn’t built in a day, you know. Or was it? I can never keep human history straight.”
* * *
The cabin I share with Kellan is cozy and warm. It’s a luxury to not share space in this place, especially lately, with all the new wolves being added with each returned scouting party.
The instant coffee tin mocks me as I scoop out a meager portion. Hot water, stir, and voila—a sad excuse for caffeine. I take a sip and grimace. Bitter, watery, and somehow both burnt and flavorless at the same time.
“Shit coffee,” I mutter, padding back to the couch.
I wrap myself in a thick blanket, cradling the mug for warmth as I stare out the window. Snow falls in lazy flurries, blanketing the world in white. It’s peaceful, almost hypnotic.
My brain feels like mush after today’s magitech testing. The quiet is a balm, letting my thoughts drift aimlessly.
The front door creaks open and Kellan steps inside, shaking snow from his boots.
“Oh. Hi,” I manage, my voice catching.
Snowflakes cling to his dirty blonde hair, now tousled from the wind. It was always super short before; it’s longer now. His cheeks and nose are flushed from the cold, making his stormy gray eyes pop. As he shrugs off his coat, I can’t help but notice how his shirt clings to his broad shoulders and muscular arms.
After he sets his boots aside to dry, he runs his hands through his hair. My eyes trail down his neck to the hollow of his throat, visible where his shirt is unbuttoned.
I force myself to look away, focusing on the shit caffeine in my cup.
“Hey,” he replies, equally awkward.
I fidget with my mug, searching for something to say, but nothing comes out. Kellan clears his throat after some time.
“Just here to take a shower.”
“Okay,” I nod, perhaps too enthusiastically. “Sure. Yeah.”
He disappears into the bedroom. A few moments later, I hear water running.
I sigh, my shoulders slumping. This weirdness between us has been building for months. Ever since I balked at the whole “fated mates” thing, Kellan’s backed off, giving me space. And I appreciate that, I do. But now there’s this… gap.
We’re sharing the beta cabin, but it feels like we’re worlds apart.
For a while, we were growing closer. But now? We’re not even friends. Just roommates. And he’s got three bodyguards keeping an eye on my every move. Which, for the record—I’m not complaining about.
I get it. I appreciate it. But… I don’t know. It’s just strange, I guess.
He cares about me. He’s made that clear. And I get that mates are important to wolves. I’ve watched it via my own best friend.
But that’s not how I was raised. This whole fated mates shit is weird ass voodoo, not something humans are supposed to be a part of.
The worst part? I’m horny as hell. My body craves his touch. Every time I look at his face I want to jump on it. But I can’t bring myself to cross that line. Not when I know he wants more than just sex.
It wouldn’t be fair to either of us.
Though… what if I did? What if I just let go and gave in to these urges?
I close my eyes, letting my imagination run wild. In my mind’s eye, I see Kellan emerging from the shower, water droplets clinging to his muscular frame. Steam curls around him as he walks towards me, a towel slung low on his hips. His eyes, stormy gray and intense, lock onto mine.
“Lisa,” he says, his voice a low rumble. It sends shivers down my spine.
In this fantasy, I don’t hesitate. I stand, letting the blanket fall away. My hands reach for him, tracing the contours of his chest, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath my fingertips. He pulls me close, one hand cupping my face while the other slides down to the small of my back.
Our lips meet, and it’s electric. Months of tension and longing pour into that kiss. His stubble scratches my chin, but I don’t care. I tangle my fingers in his damp hair, pressing myself against him.
He lifts me effortlessly, and I wrap my legs around his waist. The towel falls away as he carries me to the bedroom. We tumble onto the bed, a tangle of limbs and breathless laughter.
His lips trail down my neck, leaving a path of fire in their wake. I arch into him, craving more. His hands roam my body, teasing and exploring. I gasp as he—
The water shuts off, jerking me back to lonely reality.
I take another sip of my coffee, grimacing at the taste and my frustration.
Once all the refugees are settled in, I spend time checking on the laundry. In the winter, it’s an effort to get done, but we now have several hand-pump wells located in strategic areas around the compound, making it a little easier.
The biting cold nips at my cheeks as I make my way to the laundry area.
“Good morning, Luna Ava,” a chorus of voices greets me as I enter.
I smile, nodding to each of them. “Good morning, everyone. How are we doing today?”
My eyes land on Tess, her gray hair pulled back in a tight bun. Her stern expression softens slightly as she meets my gaze. “Luna, we’re managing. These new refugees have doubled our workload.”
“I’m here to help,” I say, rolling up my sleeves. “What needs doing?”
Tess points to a pile of sopping wet clothes. “Those need wringing out and hanging. Mind the cold—it’ll freeze your fingers if you’re not careful.”
I nod, grabbing a bucket of wet clothes and get to work, in tandem with another she-wolf. She’s newer, a refugee from the Twilight Ridge Pack.
“How are you settling in, Mara?” I ask her.
She gives me a shy smile. “It’s different, Luna. But good. Everyone’s been so kind.”
“I’m glad to hear it.” Once the clothes are wrung, we head outside to hang them, where they’ll freeze on the line and slowly evaporate until they’re dry. “If you need anything, don’t hesitate to ask.”
We work in companionable silence for a while, the only sounds the snap of fabric in the wind and the occasional grunt of effort. My fingers are numb, but I keep going. These clothes need to dry, and every pair of hands helps.
“Luna,” Tess calls, “could you help gather the frozen clothes? They’re nearly dry.”
I nod, moving to the lines where stiff, icy garments hang like bizarre winter decorations. It’s a strange sensation, peeling them off the line. They crackle and crunch.
“Where do these go?” I ask, arms full of frozen clothes.