Filed to story: Tangled in Moonlight Unshifted Novel by Lenaleia
Lisa furrows her brow, clearly trying to recall something. “It’s… ugh, how did the Grand Sage explain it?” She flaps her hands in frustration. “Something about how my body uses the magic in the air to recover. I don’t really remember the details, to be honest.”
“Is it because of the Fae-blessing thing?”
She nods, reaching for an insulated cooler nearby and pulling out a water bottle. Even in winter, it’s important to stay hydrated.
I stare at the coolers thoughtfully. “We’re using coolers to keep water from freezing in winter, when usually we’d use them to keep water cold in summer.”
Lisa lowers the bottle, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. “Yeah, it is weird when you think about it.”
“How are you holding up with all of this?” I ask, gesturing vaguely at the training grounds and the young wolves still running their laps.
Lisa grimaces. “Getting tired of being the slowest one, but it’s fine. I can’t really hold my own during spars, but I’m getting better at avoiding hits. I just can’t keep up.”
We had toward Kellan’s cabin, crunching over a shoveled path to get there. It’s like walking through a snow-maze, with tunnels through snow that’s sometimes as deep as three or four feet.
“Tell me more about your magitech training. How’s it going?”
“Mm. I think it’s going okay, but I’m not sure if it’s a weapon that’ll actually be helpful in the grand scheme of things.”
Almost tripping over some branches hidden under the snow, I kick them to the side so I don’t do that again. Which I totally would—I’ve fallen on my face more times than I want to admit.
“How so?”
Lisa’s face scrunches up as she thinks. “So, the wrist brace is pretty cool, but it’s got this whole process before I can actually use it. Those seconds are really going to be detrimental mid-fight. Oh, and I have to keep replenishing it with blood.”
It’s instinctual to cringe at that. “Blood? That sounds a little too vampiric for my taste.”
Lisa nods vigorously. “I know, right? It’s weird. But you know, Fae-blessed and whatnot. My blood holds magic that I can’t use myself. The brace sort of… activates it, I guess? I don’t know the science behind it.” She pauses. “Or magic, I guess.”
It’s fascinating, but also a bit unsettling. The idea of using blood for anything magical always makes me uneasy.
We reach Kellan’s cabin, and I stomp the snow off my boots before entering. The warmth inside is a welcome relief.
Lisa doesn’t waste any time. “I need a hot shower after that run,” she announces, already peeling off layers of clothing as she heads for the bathroom.
Left alone, I take the opportunity to glance around the cabin. It’s cozy, with a rustic charm that suits Kellan. My eyes land on the couch, and I’m surprised to see a pillow and blanket neatly folded at one end. It looks like Kellan’s been sleeping there.
The realization makes me frown. I knew things were awkward between Lisa and Kellan, but I didn’t realize it had gotten to the point where they weren’t even sharing a bed. The whole “fated mates” situation is clearly causing more tension than I’d thought.
I settle into an armchair to wait.
The shower shuts off, and a few minutes later, Lisa emerges wrapped in a fluffy towel, her hair damp and skin flushed from the hot water.
“Feel better?” I ask.
She nods, grabbing some clothes from a nearby dresser. “Much. Nothing like a hot shower after freezing your butt off outside.”
As she dresses, I can’t help but ask about what I’ve noticed. “So, um, is Kellan sleeping on the couch?”
Lisa pauses, her shirt halfway over her head. She pulls it down slowly, avoiding my gaze. “Yeah.”
I wait, giving her space to elaborate if she wants to. After a moment, she sighs and sits on the edge of the bed.
“It’s just… this whole fated mates thing is a lot, you know? I mean, I like Kellan. He’s great. But it feels like there’s all this pressure and expectation for our future, and I’m not sure I’m ready for that.”
Sympathetic to her plight, I can only nod. “It’s a big adjustment, especially for someone who wasn’t raised in pack culture.”
Lisa runs a hand through her damp hair. “Exactly. And Kellan’s been so patient and understanding, but I can tell it’s hard for him too. But, you know, he’s Kellan, and always trying to be a gentleman. So he decided he should give me even more space the other day.”
“Hence the couch,” I conclude.
“Hence the couch,” she agrees with a wry smile.
I lean back in the chair, considering her words. Despite her words, there’s a layer of frustration in her voice.
“How are you feeling about it all?”
Lisa shrugs, her expression a mix of emotions. “Honestly? I’m not sure. Part of me is drawn to Kellan in a way I can’t explain. But another part of me is terrified of what it all means. I mean, am I supposed to just accept that some mystical force has decided who I’m meant to be with for the rest of my life?”
I think about my own complicated relationship with Lucas, the push and pull between us. “I get it,” I say softly. “It’s not always as simple as the stories make it out to be.”
Lisa looks at me gratefully. “Exactly. And then there’s all this other stuff going on. It’s a lot to process.”
“Have you talked to Kellan about how you’re feeling?”
She sighs. “A little. But every time I do, it’s like he thinks he’s not giving me enough space, and it drives us further…” A vague gesture toward the couch. “Apart. Anyway. Enough about us.”
I arch a brow, but don’t push the subject any further. If she doesn’t want to talk about it, I’m not going to force her.
“How are things with you and Lucas?”
I can’t help but chuckle at her attempt to change the subject. “Oh, you know. Complicated in our own special way.”
Lisa raises an eyebrow. “Care to elaborate?”
I consider for a moment. “Have you heard any rumors lately?”
* * *
An hour later, armed with a tiny stash of venison jerky, four bottles of water, a freshly baked loaf of bed, and a watery soup that’s more potatoes than sausage—but surprisingly delicious—Lisa slams her hand against Kellan’s dining table.
“She’s outrageous.”
Shrugging, I shred a sliver of jerky into my soup. “But what am I supposed to do? She isn’t technically doing anything. And she might get a little too close to Lucas, but he doesn’t do anything to raise her hopes, either.”
“Send her back to Washington. We don’t need her here.”
I blow on my soup, even though it’s already lukewarm, before taking a bite. As I chew, a warmth spreads through me that has nothing to do with the temperature of the food. It’s nice to have someone be outraged on my behalf. Lisa always delivers on that front.
Me, too, Selene protests.
Yes, yes, you too.
“I can’t just send her back,” I say finally. “She’s the official liaison between packs.”
Lisa’s frowns, stabbing her spoon into her soup in a savage motion. “But Lucas and Clayton are friends, right? Can’t Lucas just tell Clayton what’s going on?”
“Once again, aside from overstepping her boundaries about the food, Ivy hasn’t technically done anything wrong. And she’s very popular among both packs.”
“But she’s spreading these awful rumors!”
“Have you ever heard any of this from Ivy’s own mouth?”
Lisa scowls, her fingers tightening around her spoon. “The rumors wouldn’t be so prevalent if she would stop them. Since she isn’t, they’re basically coming from her.”
I lean back in my chair, considering her words. She’s not entirely wrong, but the situation is more complex than that. “It seems like a stupid reason to sow discord between our packs. Especially considering what Lucas and Clayton had to overcome to even remain friends after—well, you know.”
She goes silent at that, the bluster knocked out of her. She swirls her spoon in her soup, even though there’s very little left in her bowl. The silence stretches between us, filled only by the soft clink of metal against ceramic.
“That must be weird,” she says finally, her voice quiet.
“Yeah,” I agree heavily. “It really is.”
“I just wish…” Lisa starts, then trails off. She looks up at me, her eyes filled with a mix of frustration and concern. “I just wish it was easier for you. You’ve been through so much already.”
“I wish things were easier for all of us.” Reaching over, I poke at her shoulder. “For you, too. We still haven’t gotten word about your parents. That’s way worse than having to deal with Ivy on a daily basis.”
She sighs. “Yeah. It sucks.”
There isn’t much to say to that. It does suck. A lot. Her parents have no idea she’s alive and healthy and thriving here.
We don’t know if they’re alive, either.