Filed to story: Tangled in Moonlight Unshifted Novel by Lenaleia
“Selene. I can smell Lucas.”
Selene growls, pacing as she sniffs every corner of the room. Her hackles are stiff. Even though she’s just a dog right now, it’s still intimidating.
That bastard was here, Selene confirms, after sniffing around the bedroom. He won’t harm you. Her lip curls back into a soft snarl. I can smell his regret with every step he took.
I collapse, my legs too weak to hold me up. That refreshed, revitalized feeling is gone. Only fear remains.
“What am I going to do? I can’t stay here. If he found me, that means Dad can find me.”
Perhaps. Selene stretches with a large yawn. I would not worry yet, cub. You are not as defenseless as you once were, and you cannot run forever.
“But-“
You cannot run forever, Selene repeats forcefully, and I fall silent, struggling against the panic fluttering against my ribcage. One day, you might have to fight back.
Fight back?
I’d never imagined fighting back.
How can a wolfless defect fight back?
You are not wolfless, she reminds me, settling on the couch after a few circles. You are strong. You have me. We will not return to your pack.
“What will we do?” I ask helplessly.
Selene yawns again. Live, she says simply. Just as you have been. Do not borrow trouble before it finds you.
***
I sigh and fall onto the couch cushions, trying to let Selene’s words wash over me. Live. Just live. It sounds so simple when she says it like that.
Selene lifts her head, those piercing blue eyes fixing me with an intent stare. You cannot keep going as you have been, though. Your body is soft. Weak. You must strengthen it.
A frown tugs at my lips. “What do you mean?”
She pushes my arm with her cold, wet nose. Exercise.
Train your body as you would your mind. You cannot rely solely on me to protect you forever.
I blink at her. I’m not completely soft. I’ve had to learn to run. But to Selene, I’m soft.
I guess that makes sense. I’m nothing compared to shifters. She wants me to get fit. To toughen up, build muscle, increase my stamina. A tremor of trepidation runs through me, but I can’t deny the logic in her words.
If Toddor anyone from my packcomes for me again, I need to be able to defend myself. My only chance at true freedom is becoming strong enough to fight back if necessary.
With a slow nod, I steel my resolve. “Okay. What do I need to do?”
The next morning, I approach Mrs. Elkins with a request to leave work early three days a week. I spin a vague story about a class I’ve decided to take, not daring to reveal the real reason.
Mrs. Elkins’s brow furrows in concern, but she doesn’t pry. “Of course, dear. As long as you can have your work done before you leave, I don’t mind at all.”
Relief washes over me. “Thank you, Mrs. Elkins. I really appreciate your understanding.”
She gives me one of her warm, grandmotherly smiles. “Not a problem, Ava. Just take care of yourself, alright?”
I force a smile in return, her kindness lancing through my chest. If only she knew…
That evening, Selene leads me through a series of basic calisthenics in the privacy of my small living room- pushups, situps, air squats, a hundred each. My muscles strain and burn with the unaccustomed exertion, but I grit my teeth and push through the discomfort.
This becomes our new routine. Three nights a week, after leaving work early, I meet with a selfdefense instructor named Kyle that Selene somehow dug up. He’s an older packless wolf, his lined face and calloused hands speaking of a hard life. But his pale blue eyes hold a kindness that puts me at ease from the start.
To Kyle, Selene is just an ordinary husky tagging along with her owner. He doesn’t seem to notice anything amiss, which is probably for the best. I’m not sure I could explain the truth even if I wanted to.
The training is grueling. Kyle runs me through basic strikes, blocks, grapples and takedowns, pushing me to my limits. I leave each session bruised, my body screaming in protest.
But I persevere, following Selene’s firm encouragement. Because with each passing week, I can feel myself growing stronger. My endurance increasing, my movements becoming more fluid and precise.
I’m toughening up, preparing myself for whatever challenges may still lie ahead. No longer will I be a helpless victim waiting for someone else to save me.
A few nights a week, I come home to the scent of Lucas in my apartment, but I have yet to catch sight of him. I’m not sure how to feel about that, so I try not to think about it too much. I changed the locks, but he still makes it in.
More shifters have been appearing in town, stopping by The Novel Grind. I can hear them talking about war between the Blackwood and Westwood packs. I want to know more, but I don’t know how to dig up the information. It isn’t like I can just check this sort of news on the internetwerewolves tend to lie low with their pack information.
I haven’t heard any more talk about me, though. I’m not sure what that means, and I’m too scared to find out. I should probably reach out to the pack alpha here, but I don’t know how he feels about my family or my pack. I can’t risk him wanting to hand me over.
So I justlive. Like Selene said. I go to my class. I work at The Novel Grind. I train.
I’m not at ease, though Selene doesn’t seem too concerned. I can’t help looking over my shoulder more often these days. But aside from Lucas’ presence in my room, his scent all over my things, there’s nothing different around me.
Until now.
I put on a fake smile, looking at the person in front of me like I don’t recognize them.
LUCAS
Her scent dances around me. Every breath I take fills my lungs with the sweet, honey and vanilla notes that have haunted my dreams since that fateful night at the Lunar Gala. Ava. Just the thought of her name sends a shiver down my spine.
For weeks, I’ve been watching her from the shadows, unable to resist the pull of her presence. The need to be near her has consumed me, driving me to break into her apartment just to bask in the lingering traces of her essence. I’m a desperate man, lost in the throes of an obsession I can’t explain nor control.
As I stand before her now, my wolf howls with unbridled joy inside my head, reveling in her proximity. Part of me had hoped that the fact she didn’t run when she realized I’d found her meant something more. An acknowledgement of the connection that binds us together.
But as her gaze meets mine, devoid of any emotion, I feel the weight of disappointment settle heavily in my chest. She regards me with the same polite indifference she would show any other customer, and the realization stings like a slap to the face.
Leaning over the counter, I can’t help but ask, “How have you been? Are you okay?” The words tumble out, laced with concern and a hint of desperation that I can’t quite mask.
For a fleeting moment, I see her falter, a crack in her impassive facade. But it’s gone as quickly as it appeared, and she meets my gaze with a cool detachment that cuts deeper than any blade.
“I’m sorry, sir, but I need you to order or step aside for the other customers.”
Her voice is clipped, professional, devoid of any warmth or recognition. It’s as if our shared moment in the garden never happened, as if the connection that ignited between us was nothing more than a fleeting fantasy.
I want to protest, to demand that she acknowledges the bond that ties us together. But the words stick in my throat as I remember the look on her face right before she turned and ran. All I can do is nod mutely and order something random off the menu.
When I give her my card, our fingertips brush together, and the spark of our connection floods through me. My wolf yips and whines. My mate, he howls, and I can only apologize to him again.
It’s my fault that our mate isn’t in our arms, after all.
I watch Ava as she glides behind the counter. Every movement she makes is fluid, almost hypnotic, drawing my gaze. The gentle sway of her hips as she leans over to grab a mug, the way her delicate fingers curl around itit’s all I can do to tear my eyes away, even for a moment.
A pang of jealousy twists in my gut as her coworker approaches her, an easy grin plastered across his face. My wolf snarls within me, hackles raised as he watches the exchange, bristling at the familiarity between them. That asshole leans in, whispering something that makes Ava’s lips quirk upwards in a smile that should be reserved for me alone.
The urge to storm over there and rip him away from her is overwhelming, my fists clenching at my sides as
I imagine the satisfying crunch of his nose breaking beneath my knuckles. It would be so easy, so deliciously satisfying to put him in his place and remind him that Ava is mine.
But I force myself to remain still, my nails digging crescents into my palms as I wrestle with the animalistic impulses raging within me. I can’t afford to do anything that might jeopardize what little chance I have of winning her over. One wrong move, one slip of control, and I could lose her forever.
So I watch, and I wait, and I seethe in silence as Carlos throws his head back with a laugh, basking in the warmth of Ava’s attention. Every fiber of my being screams at me to intervene, to stake my claim and remind her of the bond we share, no matter how tenuous it might seem at the moment.
But her eyes never turn towards me, not even for a fleeting second. It’s as if I’m invisible to her, a ghost haunting the periphery of her world, unable to break through the barrier she’s erected around herself.
After a couple hours of staring at the woman I want more than anything, an older woman approaches me with a warm smile, her eyes crinkling at the corners in
a way that speaks of a lifetime spent laughing. “Good morning,” she greets me cheerfully. “Can I get you anything else?”
I shake my head, offering her a polite smile in return. “No, thank you. I’m all set.”
She nods, but doesn’t move to leave, her gaze drifting over to where Ava is chatting with the dickhead behind the counter. There’s a knowing look in her eyes as she regards me, one that makes me shift uncomfortably in my seat.
“You know our Ava, don’t you?” she asks, her tone casual but laced with a hint of protectiveness.