Filed to story: Tangled in Moonlight Unshifted Novel by Lenaleia
The contrast is jarring, and I find myself blinking ranidly trying to adjust to the sudden change.
A dimly lit hallway stretches to the side, with several doors, all closed. The familiar smell of antiseptic has my nose twitching.
The front desk, in contrast, is brightly lit. A pair of double doors marked ‘Staff Only’ stand beyond it, showing the faint shadowy outline of people as they walk past. Even this late at night, it’s good to know there are people around to take care of the patients, just like any other hospital.
“Is this a real hospital?” I ask Kellan in a hushed whisper.
“Yes. It’s been here for a long time.” He taps at my shoulder, nudging me to follow him to the front desk.
A human woman in crisp blue scrubs sits, her fingers flying over a keyboard. She looks up as we approach, a warm smile spreading across her face. “Beta
Ashbourne,” she greets Kellan, her voice syrupy sweet. “Alpha is sleeping at the moment. Is there something I can help you with?”
Kellan’s hand settles on my lower back, guiding me forward. “Actually, yes. I’ve brought his mate to see him.”
The receptionist’s eyes flick to me, and in an instant, her demeanor changes. The warmth vanishes, replaced by a cool professionalism that borders on frigid. “I see,” she says, her tone clipped. “I’m afraid visiting hours are over for the day.”
My heart sinks. Lucas is so close and yet still out of reach. I want to scream, to demand entry, to use whatever authority being his mate grants me, but I hold myself back.
That would be unethical. Rude. Terrible.
Even if it sounds pretty good right now.
“But she’s his mate,” Kellan argues, his brow furrowing. “Surely an exception can be made?”
The receptionist’s lips thin into a tight line. “I’m sorry, but the rule applies to all patients, regardless of rank or relation. It’s for their wellbeing and recovery.”
The fight drains out of me. If what Kellan says is right- if he’s lost his memoriesseeing me as his mate might agitate him. Besides, if I throw my weight around here, it’ll only reinforce the idea that I’m some entitled outsider, throwing my weight around.
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my shoulder gently. “It might be for the best,” he says softly. “This way, he’ll be awake and rested when you come by in the morning.”
I hate that he’s right. I hate even more that a part of me is relieved. What if Lucas isn’t happy to see me?
Without his memories, will he want me around?
“You’re right,” I murmur, then turn to the receptionist. “I’m sorry for coming by so late. We’ll come back in the morning.”
She nods, her professional mask firmly in place. “Visiting hours begin at 9 AM.”
Kellan’s already turning away, heading for the door, but something makes me hesitate. I glance back at the receptionist, catching a glimpse of her face before she notices my gaze. The sneer twisting her features is unmistakable, a flash of pure disdain that vanishes as quickly as it appeared.
“Have a good night,” she says, her voice pleasant but her eyes cold.
My throat tightens as I hurry after Kellan. The cool night air hits my face as we step outside, and I take a deep breath, trying to shake off the weight of the receptionist’s contempt.
“You okay?” Kellan asks, scrutinizing my face.
I force a smile. “Yeah. Just really want to see Lucas.”
New Book!
There’s a tiny cottage a few buildings away, with familiar faces guarding the entrance. Their eyes barely flick in my direction as Kellan brings me inside, reminding me I still have a long way to go in order to gain affection from this pack.
After being in the Fae Ward, I’d almost forgotten how few of even my own guards actually like me.
Most of them are tolerant. Loyal enough, but I wonder now if they would have sacrificed everything to keep me safe when the attacks happened.
Marcus would have. I don’t doubt that. I’ve seen his dedication.
No. No point doubting them. That’s no way to start a friendly relationship.
Shaking off the depressed thoughts edging in, I look around the interior, pleasantly surprised once again.
These buildings all look rustic and old from the outside, but inside, they’re clean, fresh, and modern, with bright walls and glossy black trim. It only has one bedroom, a tiny bathroom with a standup shower, and a tiny kitchen. Two armchairs face a window. No TV or other electronics.
“Where’s Selene?” Since I can’t see Lucas, I may as well focus on other important things.
“I’m not sure. That’s a question you’d have to ask Sister Miriam. Once she stops by, I’ll let her know you’re here.” Kellan checks the fridge. “There’s no food, but I’ll bring some over.”
“I’m okay tonight,” I say quickly, not wanting him to work any harder. My stomach grumbles, immediately revealing the lie for what it is.
“I’ll get you something,” he says firmly, walking away before I can argue.
While he’s gone, I explore the tiny house a little more closely. There’s no dust. The air isn’t stale. It’s been freshly cleaned, and the bedsheets and comforter don’t sport a single wrinkle.
Squishing down on one of the pillows, I watch it bounce back. Fluffy pillows. I like fluffy pillows. I need two of them under my head and if I’m really fancy, a third for between my knees. When I lived with my parents, I had a single pillow that was as flat as a pancake. Nothing like these.
Scratching at my arms, I peek through the cabinets of the bathroom. Women’s sanitary supplies under the toilet, different styles. Good call; I’m due for my period soon.
We’re out of heat suppressants, which didn’t worry me before we got here because we were coming to Lucas. Now, I’m a little worried..
At least my last dose is still working.
The crescent scar on my neck burns, and I rake my nails over it, scratching frantically. It’s like a thousand tiny itches merged into one.
The energy thrumming in my veins kicked up a notch after leaving the hospital. Itand my bondare angry that we left Lucas’ proximity
Well, sorry. I didn’t make the rules.
If I could imagine my bond as a person, it’s definitely someone flipping a table in my chest, sending my heart flipflopping with the force of its annoyance.
I can’t stop moving, can’t stop scratching. My skin crawls, refusing to be soothed no matter how much I claw at it.
“Damn it,” I mutter, pacing the length of the room for what feels like the hundredth time. My feet refuse to stay still, bouncing me from one end to the other like a pinball.
The string inside of me twitches and tugs, reminding me of its existence.
Kellan’s still not back.
Throwing myself into one of the armchairs, I toe off my shoes and cross my legs, taking a deep breath as I try to ignore the itching.
I close my eyes, trying to shut out the world around me. The incessant itching, the restless energy, the worry about LucasI push it all away, focusing on that strange, new connection I felt with the book. It’s like a gossamer thread, barely there, but I can sense it if I concentrate hard enough.
Breathe in. Breathe out.
The string inside me vibrates, a faint resonance building. I reach for it with my mind, trying to grasp that elusive feeling. It’s like chasing smoke but I persist. The world fades away, and I feel myself getting closer, closer…
The door creaks open.
My eyes snap open, the tenuous connection shattered. I can’t help the sigh that escapes my lips as I turn to see Kellan entering, his arms laden with groceries.
“Sorry, did I wake you?” he asks, eyebrows furrowing as he takes in my expression.
I shake my head, forcing a smile. “No, I was just meditating. Lost my focus for a second there.”
Kellan nods, but I can see the concern in his eyes. He doesn’t push it, though, instead moving to the tiny kitchen area. I watch as he starts unpacking, stocking the fridge with water bottles and a carton of strawberries.
“I brought some other stuff too,” he says, tossing a few items into the cupboards. “Thought you might be hungry.”
As if on cue, my stomach growls. I hadn’t realized how famished I was until now. Kellan chuckles, pulling out bread and a can of tuna.
“How about a sandwich?” he offers, already reaching for a plate.
I nod, grateful for his thoughtfulness. As he prepares the food, I try to ignore the crawling sensation under my skin. The itch has returned full force, and I resist the urge to scratch.
Kellan places the sandwich in front of me, and I can’t help but wrinkle my nose. The smell of tuna brings back unwelcome memories of Todd Mason, his leering -face flashing in my mind. I push the thought away, reminding myself to be grateful.
“Thanks, Kellan,” I say, picking up the sandwich. I take al bite, forcing myself to chew and swallow. It’s not bad. It’s actually really goodhe’s mixed it with basil and peppers, adding a nice bit of crunch and flavor. It’s just… tainted by association.
Kellan watches me eat, his expression unreadable. When I’m finished, he takes the plate, rinsing it in the sink.