Filed to story: Tangled in Moonlight Unshifted Novel by Lenaleia
Tess gestures to a series of shelves along the wall. “Sort them by size on those shelves. These aren’t for any specific cabin.”
I nod, carefully placing each item in its proper place. As I sort, I chat with the other she-wolves, learning about their days, their families, their concerns.
“How’s your little one doing, Sarah?” I ask, folding a tiny pair of pants.
Sarah beams. “Growing like a weed, Luna. He’s already trying to shift, but we tell him he’s still got a few years left before he finds his wolf. He doesn’t believe us.”
As we work, the conversation flows freely. The she-wolves speak of their mates, their children, the latest pack gossip. I listen, soaking it all in.
* * *
With the laundry sorted and hung, I stretch my aching muscles and head out of the building. While laundry might seem like a simple task, it’s rougher work than you’d think.
Pulling my coat tightly around me to block out the biting air, I find myself longing to check on Lucas now that I have some precious free time.
“Selene, have you seen Lucas?” I ask, my voice hopeful.
He’s out on reconnaissance, Ava. Left a few hours ago.
I sigh, disappointment settling in my chest. “Of course he is. We’ve barely seen each other lately.”
It’s the nature of your positions, Selene replies, her tone sympathetic. Would you like to check the perimeter? It might help clear your head.
“Mm. Yeah, I guess. Any news while I was busy?”
Vester’s group returned a while ago. No refugees with them this time.
A small smile tugs at my lips. “That’s good to hear. Vanessa must be happy to have him back.”
I gather a few of my guards, selecting five wolves I trust. Well—really, I grab Marcus and let him choose the other four. But his trust is my trust.
As we prepare to head out, I’m surprised to see Vanessa approaching, bundled up against the cold.
“I heard you were heading out. Mind if I join you? There are some herbs to the northeast I’d like to gather.”
I blink, caught off guard. “Herbs? In this weather?”
Vanessa’s eyes twinkle with amusement. “Winter plants, actually. They’re quite useful for certain remedies. Humans have little benefit, but shifters do.”
As we trudge through the snow, Selene’s warm presence at my side, I can’t help but feel a sense of peace despite the biting cold. The crunch of snow beneath our feet creates a rhythmic melody, broken only by the occasional whisper of wind through bare branches.
Ah, we’re venturing out? Grimoire’s sleepy mental voice suddenly perks up, catching me off guard.
“What have you been up to?” I ask, curiosity coloring my tone. It’s not often that Grimoire sounds so… drowsy.
Just shuffling through memories, he replies, his voice carrying a hint of something I can’t quite place. Nostalgia, perhaps?
We continue our journey in companionable silence, the wards our destination. I can’t help but marvel at how far out they’ve been placed now. It’s a testament to my growing strength, I suppose, but it still feels surreal. It takes me a few days to check them all.
Suddenly, Grimoire’s voice breaks through my musings. Ava, do you remember the history of rune magic?
I furrow my brow, caught off guard by the question. “You haven’t really taught me anything about it. Just that wizards put their excess magic into their wards and glyphs.”
Grimoire hums thoughtfully, the sound reverberating in my mind. Then he falls silent again. I don’t prod him for more information, though. I’ve learned that with Grimoire, patience is key. He’ll speak when he’s ready.
As we approach the first ward, I feel a faint tingle of magic in the air. It’s barely perceptible, like the ghost of a touch against my skin, but I recognize it instantly. My magic.
I pause, closing my eyes and reaching out with my senses. The ward is invisible to the naked eye, but to me, it’s as clear as day. A shimmering veil of energy, pulsing with power.
Taking a deep breath, I focus my energy and begin to infuse a little more of my magic into the ward. It’s a delicate process, requiring concentration and control. Too much power could overload the ward, too little would leave it weakened.
As I work, I can feel the ward strengthening, its energy intertwining with mine. It’s an oddly intimate sensation, like I’m leaving a piece of myself behind to protect this place.
When I’m satisfied with the ward’s strength, I open my eyes and nod to the others. “Let’s move on to the next one,” I say, my voice soft but firm.
The wind picks up, sending a shiver down my spine despite my warm coat. I pull it tighter around me, grateful for its protection against the biting cold.
“Vanessa,” I call out, glancing back at the healer. “How much further until we reach those herbs you’re looking for?”
She looks up from where she’s been studying the ground, a small smile on her face. “Not too far now.”
As we trudge through the snow, Grimoire speaks up again, distant and contemplative. You know, glyphs weren’t created by humans. They’re patterns drawn by magic itself.
“I thought it was an ancient language.”
In a way, yes, it is. But not one made by people. The words written on my pages are the language created by witches, inspired by the runes we use.
Huh. So, witches knew about the runes.
Yes. The different designations of magic-users came later on.
Fascinating. The history of Lycans and magic always catches me by surprise as I learn more of them.
I admit, it’s a rather simplistic way to boil down the history. There’s much more to it, of course.
“Why are you telling me this now?”
There’s a pause, and when Grimoire speaks again, his tone is more serious. Do you remember what I said when we first met?
The dying, otherworldly forest flashes through my mind. But try as I might, I can’t recall anything specific Grimoire might have said.
“No.”
Vanessa and the others don’t even look at me as I speak; they’re all used to my one-sided conversations at this point. Of course, very few people know about Grimoire, but they all know about Selene.
Who’s ignoring our conversation as she hops through the snow, tail high.
I mentioned that you have wards all over your soul.
The words trigger a vague recollection, and I frown. “I… yes, I think I remember that now.” But why wouldn’t I remember something so important? At least, it sounds important.
It’s precisely because of the wards on your soul.
Hmm.
What are these wards? Selene’s voice echoes in my mind, her curiosity palpable.
Grimoire sighs, a sound that reverberates through my consciousness. I’ve been trying to figure that out myself.
“Wait, what?” I blurt out, earning a curious glance from Vanessa. I wave her off with a smile, focusing on the conversation only I can hear. “You don’t know what they are?”
I don’t know every literal thing about the world, Ava, he retorts, a hint of defensiveness in his tone. I only know what I’ve witnessed over the centuries.
Have your memories faded since being with Ava? Selene asks him.
Absolutely not, Grimoire replies firmly. My knowledge and memories remain intact.
She stops her playful bounding through the snow, turning to stare at the messenger bag where Grimoire rests in his book form. Her ice-blue eyes narrow, and I can sense her jealousy.
“Why are you suddenly bringing this up?” I ask, absently patting the bag, as if making sure Selene hasn’t grabbed at it and hauled him away to chew on his spine.
She’s done that a couple times when he really got on her nerves.
Despite our repeated failures at integrating you with the pack bond, I still believe it’s possible. These wards are the problem, Ava. They’re blocking you from full integration with any pack.
I pause, considering his words. “But I feel connected to the Westwood Pack. It’s not as strong as what others describe, but it’s there.”
That extra connection you feel, Grimoire explains, is likely supplemented by your bond with Selene and your mate bond with Lucas, not from you, yourself.
“Have you seen other wards on souls before?” I’m curious as to the extent of his knowledge in this area.
I have, he admits. Usually, they’re simpler. Protection spells, curses, that sort of thing. But yours… they’re different. Layered.