Filed to story: Tangled in Moonlight Unshifted Novel by Lenaleia
She turns in my arms, her eyes meeting mine. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”
I take a deep breath, the steam filling my lungs. “We found some rogues a few miles out. They were… aggressive. We had to put them down.”
Her body stiffens. “How many?”
“Five.”
She reaches up, her hand cupping my cheek. “I’m sorry, Lucas.”
I lean into her touch, closing my eyes. “It’s terrible, but that’s not what worries me. Something was off about them. They were acting almost… feral. But they weren’t starving or desperate. It doesn’t make sense.”
Ava is quiet for a moment, her thumb tracing small circles on my skin. “I think I might now what happened. I ran into some tainted energy near one of my wards.”
My eyes snap open. “What tainted energy?”
She tells me about her encounter in the woods, how Grimoire helped her purify a strange, dark energy. As she speaks, a chill runs down my spine despite the hot water pouring over us.
“Why didn’t you tell me about this sooner?” I ask, unable to keep the edge out of my voice.
Ava’s eyes narrow, her shoulders hunching up a little. “I’ve been home for five seconds.”
Steam clouds the air, and I breathe it in, forcing my tense muscles to relax.
Even Aurum is calm in my head, taking the danger in stride when he would normally be a hot mess over any possible threat to her life.
She is our Luna, he says simply, as if that’s all I need to know.
I guess it is.
“Turn around,” I murmur, gently guiding her shoulders so her body faces me. She complies without a word, and I tilt her head back, reaching around her to rinse the shampoo from her hair. My fingers work through her golden strands, careful not to tug or pull.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have snapped at you.” The words are barely audible over the rush of water, but I know she hears them.
Her shoulders relax, her body language no longer so defensive. “It’s okay,” she replies, but her voice lacks its usual warmth. The subdued tone tugs at something in my chest.
I finish rinsing her hair and turn her to face me again. Her blue eyes meet mine, a mix of emotions swirling in their depths. I cup her face in my hands, my thumbs tracing her cheekbones.
“Hey,” I say, my voice gentle. “It’s okay to tell me when I’m being overbearing. I know I can be… intense sometimes.”
A small laugh escapes her lips, more tension leaving her body. “Isn’t that always?”
A horde of wolves stream into our camp. Several shift in the middle of the snow, eager to embrace their friends or family for the first time in months. It feels as though the entire compound is out to watch the largest crowd brought in by our scouting team.
There’s an overall atmosphere of joy and celebration, but underneath it all, my mind worries over simple problems. Food. Firewood. More shelter. We only have so many tents, so many beds, so many blankets… And winter isn’t over yet.
“Kellan,” I call out, spotting his broad shoulders in the crowd. “Get these people settled in the new tents. Make sure they’re comfortable. We may need to switch people around to make sure no family units are broken up.”
He nods, already moving to direct the flow of refugees. A pang of worry hits me as I consider our dwindling firewood supply. We’ll need to send people out for more.
My eyes scan the crowd. Some of them are from other packs; they hang back, tails tucked, in small groups of their own. One group has their tails up, panting in the snow as they glance around. Probably Aspen wolves.
Right on cue, Ivy approaches them.
Distracting me from the influx of new people is Delta Ryder Thorn, looking like he’s been through hell and back. He’s lost weight, and his fur seems matted. But there’s something about him that has Selene sitting up to take notice.
“What’s going on?” I ask Lucas, who unwraps his arm from around my shoulder.
“I don’t know. He wanted to tell us in person. Come, let’s head to the debriefing tent.”
Ryder follows us without comment, though he’s practically bouncing on his paws. He shifts almost as soon as the tent flap closes behind him, grabbing some clothes at random off the shelves we have for that purpose.
“I bring good news,” he announces, his voice hoarse but triumphant.
Lucas raises an eyebrow, a silent command to continue.
“We found Jericho.”
My hand shoots out, grabbing Ryder’s freshly donned shirt before I can stop myself. “Where is he?” I demand. He wasn’t in the group.
A firm hand pulls me back, and I let go of his black shirt as my back bumps into Lucas’ chest. To his credit, the delta doesn’t flinch at my reaction, only grinning wider. “He’s with a group of supernaturals, about a hundred miles northwest. They’re all in hiding.”
“How did you find him?” Lucas asks, cool as a freaking cucumber. Like it’s any report on any given day.
“He found us through the pack link. When we got close enough, he reached out.”
Frowning, I ask, “Why didn’t he come back with you?”
The bright light of excitement fades, and Ryder’s lips thin. No longer keeping eye contact, he gazes off to the side, clasping his hands behind his back and shifting his feet, as if bracing himself.
“Beta Mentor Jericho was severely injured. Many of the wolves we brought today were saved by his efforts. But he lost both his legs.”
Devastating words. Tears fill my eyes as an image of the grizzled old shifter jumps to my mind’s eye. Fit. Healthy. Energetic.
“But he’s alive,” I whisper, trying to give myself something positive to cling to.
Both of my shoulders bow under the weight of my mate’s hands, and he squeezes gently. “He’s alive.”
His words rumble against my back, and I nod jerkily, blinking against tears.
“Why didn’t he return with you?” Lucas addresses Ryder now, all business, as I’m still reeling.
I’m sorry, Selene offers quietly. She never followed us into the tent; she’s overseeing the new arrivals and keeping an eye on Ivy. Jericho is a good wolf. He saved many lives.
Yes, but at what cost?
My heart twists, wondering how he’s handling it. No one ever deserves a disability. Ever. But it’s turning my world upside down to imagine someone so strong and vibrant forever trapped in a wheelchair.
“Kellan will be here soon,” Lucas says, and I realize I’ve missed part of the conversation. “I want him to hear in person.”
“Understood, Alpha.”
* * *
Lucas and his subordinates spent a long time in discussion. About Jericho, mostly, and the new problems that have now arisen. The old wolf managed to bring together many survivors. Not just wolves, but other supernaturals.
Including vampires.
Jericho remained with them as the pack discusses whether to bring them here, to the safety of Wolf’s Landing, or keep them where they are.
What do you think? Selene asks, having followed me—and my ever-present bodyguards—to a giant log in the center of the compound.
It’s smooth, free of bark, and the perfect height to sit on. It’s also easy to eavesdrop in the area, so I take the time to converse through our bond link and not with my mouth.
I understand wanting to bring them here. Survivors are survivors, and we need allies.
But, Selene prompts.
I sigh, looking up at the sky. A few puffy white clouds float by, but for the most part, it’s a vast expanse of brilliant blue. I also understand why the wolves are cautious. Everyone’s been separated for so long, even wolves don’t know much about the other supernaturals. It makes it harder to build trust.
Soft fur tickles my thigh as she leans against my leg. Do you think the wolves would treat the Grand Sage differently if they learned he is a gnome, and not one of your tiny humans?
I shake my head. I don’t know. Not many of them really know him. I think they could just as easily believe he is a murderer as they can believe he is a good person.
Selene’s head settles on my knee. Petting her gives me a little solace, a break from my thoughts with the repetitive motion of my fingers sliding through her soft fur.
My mind wanders to the refugees and the potential new arrivals. The camp already feels stretched thin, resources dwindling faster than we can replenish them. Yet, turning away those in need goes against everything we believe in.
“What would you do, Selene?”
It is not a decision that needs to be made today.
I lean back, resting my palms on the smooth surface of the log. The breeze picks up, carrying with it the scents of pine and snow. Winter’s grip is tightening, and I can’t help but worry about how we’ll manage when the real cold sets in.