Filed to story: Tangled in Moonlight Unshifted Novel by Lenaleia
“Right.” I shift uneasily, unsure of how much to say. Do I explain that I haven’t chosen to mate with him yet? That our fated connection was already in peril from his rejection? It seems like a bit of an overshare, so I just remain silent.
“Everyone’s been curious about the Blackwood who finagled their way into our Alpha’s graces, but you’re pretty nice,” he adds, sounding a little awkward. “They don’t like the Blackwoods, but you don’t act like them.”
“What did you expect, then?” My curiosity is genuine. To me, the Blackwood pack was normal. Even in Westwood, I don’t have a lot of interaction with the other shifters. I still don’t fully understand the divide between the two packs, having only heard the story from Phoenix’s point of view.
You could try talking to Lucas, Selene mutters, sounding a little sour over the idea. I’m sure he could explain it.
But would he? I have the distinct impression that he would try to gloss it over.
“Arrogant. A jerk. Pretentious. Kind of like that Jessa chick who was here for a little while, trying to act like she was the beta’s mate when she was just here for college.” He grimaces. “A lot of us fell in love with her because of her looks, but it didn’t last long.”
I can’t help the faint smile curving my lips. “Oh, my sister.”
“Shit.” Bren jerks away from me, looking horrified. “I forgot she’s your sister. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. She’s a bitch.”
Saying the words out loud is… freeing.
Have I ever talked about my family that way?
I don’t think I have.
Bren still looks cautious, and I laugh. “I’m serious. She’s a complete bitch. Hates me. Never looked at me twice.”
“Really?” his dubious stare has me laughing even harder, garnering the attention of the other wolves.
“What are we missing?” Mia asks, sauntering over with a halfempty cup in hand. It doesn’t have that gross, yeasty smell of beer, but something more astringent and nosetickling.
When she sees me looking at her cup, she lifts it with a wink. “The special punch. You should try it.”
Kellan’s warning rings in my mind. “Thanks. Maybe later.”
“We’re talking about Jessa,” Bren chimes in, still looking horrified.
“Oh, that Blackwood bitch? Er, no offense.” Mia offers me a casual, oneshoulder shrug. “We all hate her.”
“That’s her sister,” Bren hisses in her ear.
Even without super wolf hearing, I can hear him clearly.
“Jessa’s a bitch,” Lisa agrees, squeezing her way to my side and sliding her arm through mine.
“See? It’s fine,” Mia grouses at Bren, shoving him away. “Since Ava’s here she’s already defected from
Blackwood. Right, Ava?”
“Uh, right.” Defected sounds a little more negative than I’d like, but I can’t really put my finger on why. “We weren’t close.”
Lisa interjects then, steering the conversation in a different conversation. “So, who’s the host of the party? I don’t know anyone here except you guys. It seems pretty casual.”
“There’s no host.” Bren looks Lisa over with a familiar, appraising look.
I’m used to seeing it; a lot of men find Lisa attractive, and her bouncing, bubbly personality draws them in further.
By the smile on her face and the way she leans in his direction just a little, Lisa’s more than receptive to his attention. “Obviously, there’s a host. Whose house is this?”
“Oh, that. It’s the pack’s party house. We throw parties here every week, and all of us come around to clean it up after. Westwood rules. If we can’t appreciate what we have, the Alpha will take it away.”
The invitation on his face and in his words couldn’t be any clearer, and I’m torn between urging Lisa to go enjoy herself, and clinging to her like a lifeline.
I shouldn’t do that, though. That would be a bad friend move.
She’s been stifled as it is because of the guards around me; I should let her enjoy the freedom she has.
So I disentangle my arm from hers with a smile, and she grins back before squeezing between me and Brendan with a slight shake of her head.
I watch Lisa and Bren flirt, their bodies angling closer, their smiles flashing brighter with each exchange. A knot tightens in my stomach, an ugly twist of emotions I don’t want to examine too closely.
I should be happy for her. Lisa deserves to have fun, to enjoy herself without the burden of my problems weighing her down.
Selene is quiet in my mind, and I hope she’s watching her trashy wolf TV instead of judging my thought process.
“So, Ava.” Mia’s voice jolts me out of my thoughts. She grabs my arm, her fingers curling around my bicep with a familiarity that catches me off guard. “How did you and the Alpha meet? I’m dying to know.”
“Oh, um…” I struggle to focus, my gaze still drawn to Lisa and Bren. They’re standing so close now, their heads bent together as they talk. “It was at the Lunar Gala. A chance meeting.”
“The Lunar Gala?” Mia gasps, her grip tightening. “No way! That’s so romantic. You have to tell me everything.”
I drag my attention back to her, blinking at the intensity of her interest. “There’s not much to tell,” I hedge, feeling my cheeks heat. “We just… ran into each other.”
Well, I ran into his chestafter he pulled me into it.
But that’s a detail I don’t need to share.
“Uhhuh.” Mia’s eyes narrow, her lips curving into a knowing smirk. “I bet there’s more to the story than that. Come on, spill. I want all the juicy details.”
“I…” I flounder, unsure of how much to reveal. The memory of that night is a tangled knot of emotions- the heady rush of attraction, the sting of rejection, the confusion and hurt that followed.
I don’t know how to put it into words, especially not to a virtual stranger.
“We, um, danced,” I say finally, the words feeling inadequate. Still, it isn’t like I can say he dry humped me against a tree. “And talked a little.”
Mia’s continued smirk leaves me uncomfortable. “We all know fated mates get a little more intimate than a dance and talking, Ava. It’s okay to share the details. We’re pack, aren’t we?”
Are we?
Uncomfortable with her intrusive questions, I try to pull my arm out of hers, but her grip only tightens.
Mia’s brow furrows, her head tilting to the side. “You’re his mate, aren’t you? I mean, everyone knows that.”
I flinch, the word mate hitting me like a slap. “It’s complicated,” I mutter, looking away.
“Complicated how?” Mia presses, undeterred. “You either are or you aren’t.”
There’s very little in my life that’s prepared me for a moment like this. Not knowing how to extricate myself with grace, I yank my arm from Mia’s grip. “I need a refill.” Blurting the words out is awkward and probably makes me look like an idiot, but I escape to the kitchen, far from her prying questions.
“Ava,” an unfamiliar voice coos, and I cringe at its overly saccharine tone.
Turning, I see Chloe sauntering toward me, hips swaying in a way that catches the eye of every male she passes. For a moment, I’m startled by her revealing clothesa tight, lowcut top that leaves little to the imagination and a skirt so short it barely covers anything at all.
Like Lisa, her auburn hair flows in messy waves over her shoulders, but her eyes are slathered in fancy eyeliner and shadows that belong on one of those makeup artists from online videos. Fancy stuff. A little too much for me, but I can appreciate the talent behind it.
She reaches me and greets me with an enthusiastic kiss on the cheek, her lips lingering just a bit too long for comfort. “You look amazing,” she gushes, her eyes raking over my body in a way that makes me want to squirm. “So much better than your training clothes.”
I force a smile, trying to ignore the way her compliments feel insincere, like she’s just saying what she thinks I want to hear. “Thanks, Chloe.”
Her hand reaches out, fingers grazing gently over my breast as she leans in close. “They suit you,” she purrs, and I fight the urge to recoil from her touch. “Don’t they?”
The question’s tossed to someone behind her, but I can’t tell who. There are too many wolves around watching us.
A whistle from one of the nearby male shifters makes my cheeks burn, and I step back, putting some distance between Chloe and myself. She just laughs, the sound grating on my nerves. “Oh, you’re adorable,” she coos, like I’m some sort of skittish animal she finds amusing.
Before I can respond, she’s pressing a cup of pink punch into my hand, not even bothering to ask if I want it. I stare down at the liquid suddenly feeling out of my depth. Is this what life in the Westwood pack will be like? Overly familiar touches, suggestive comments, and a complete lack of personal boundaries?
It doesn’t feel right.
That weird, notright feeling is back, my stomach churning and my skin prickling with unease.
Here, it seems like everyone is in everyone else’s business, touching and flirting and acting like it’s all just normal. Now I see why Selene was amused by that girl staring at me earlier.
This isn’t something I enjoy, and won’t ever be something I’m used to. I’m not even sure this is what’s normal here. If I’m reading Chloe rightand I think I am, paranoia be damnedshe’s done this all on purpose.