Filed to story: Tangled in Moonlight Unshifted Novel by Lenaleia
Lucas’ voice is steady as he continues, “The leader of these scouts specifically asked for your presence.”
“What? Why didn’t you lead with that?”
Attempting to jump out of his arms doesn’t go well. He tightens his hold, keeping me in place. “Calm down, Ava. There’s no rush. Get dressed first.”
As I scramble for clothes, my thoughts are a jumbled mess. Aspen wolves. Here. Asking for me. But who would ask for me?
Only Clayton would. Maybe Rowan? But Lucas would have named either of them, I’m pretty sure.
“How many?” I ask, pulling on a pair of jeans.
“A small group,” Lucas replies. He’s already dressed, leaning against the wall as he watches me. “Ten.”
Very small. Not enough to even make up for our losses a few nights ago during the vampire attack. But the thought of connecting with another pack boosts my spirits. We need allies in order to move forward. We need to hear more about the world outside of our small area.
Once I’m dressed and ready, complete with a cup of coffee, Lucas guides me to the planning room, his hand resting against the small of my back.
The scent of unfamiliar wolves hits me immediately. My sense of smell lately has been stronger since the attack, though most of it is a muddled mess to my nose. Lucas, Selene, and Lisa are the only three I can recognize with my eyes closed. Everyone else is a mix of scents I can’t quite pull apart.
Lucas says it’s because my brain already knows their scents, as they’re my most important people. But Grimoire says it’s more likely my magic sensing those with the closest bonds to my heart.
My eyes scan the room, taking in the faces of the strangers. Some look curious, others skeptical once they get a whiff of my scent. I smell strongly of the pack, but the scent of my magic is strong, now. Some wolves even sneeze when I get too close. (Selene, surprisingly, doesn’t, though she will if Grimoire flaps his pages too quickly in her direction.)
A woman steps forward, elbowing past the males in front of her. Auburn hair catches the light, and striking green eyes meet mine. My breath catches in my throat as recognition dawns.
Ivy.
The last time I saw her feels like a lifetime ago, back when Phoenix had kidnapped me. So much has changed since then. The girl from that time feels like a stranger to me now.
Clayton’s sister approaches with measured, graceful steps, opening her arms as she calls my name. “Ava.”
She speaks with warmth, but her eyes have that strange distance to them, leaving me once again a little unsettled in her presence. I haven’t thought of her in so long; I’d forgotten how strange her reaction to my presence was back in Washington.
The hug is lukewarm at best, a perfunctory gesture that lacks any real affection, despite calling my name with such familiarity. I can feel the stiffness in her posture, mirroring my own discomfort. As we pull apart, I search for something to say, grasping for words to bridge the chasm of time and circumstance between us.
“How are you doing, Ivy?” The question sounds hollow and weak, even to me. It’s a woefully inadequate way to greet someone after all this time, but my eyes flicker to her head as I think of her bleeding in the car.
A faint smile curves her lips, though it doesn’t touch her eyes. “Long healed.” Ivy’s gaze shifts, moving past me to settle on Lucas.
If I had hackles, they’d raise at the way her eyes travel over him. Maybe it’s just my discomfort in her presence.
When she speaks again, there’s a strange inflection in her voice, an undercurrent I can’t put my finger on. It isn’t really friendly, but I can’t quite say it’s unfriendly, either.
“I heard you’re Luna here now.”
“Yes, I am.” My shoulders straighten as I respond, pulling myself as tall as I can stand.
Ivy’s eyes narrow slightly, assessing me. “Interesting,” she murmurs. “It’s good to see you doing so well, Ava.”
The tension in the room ratchets up a notch. I’m acutely aware of the other Aspen wolves watching our exchange, but I’m at a loss on why it feels as though I’m dancing some strange political line every time Ivy speaks.
Then, she smiles, and it’s as friendly and warm as you’d expect from a close ally, as if my strange emotions are nothing more than fanciful thinking. “I’m so happy you guys are here and doing so well. Our alpha was quite concerned about all of you.”
Her eyes flicker to Lucas at the last sentence, as if trying to gauge his response to Clayton’s concern. Or is it just paranoia, after all?
I wouldn’t be so certain, Selene opines, sounding thoughtful. She seems to have something against you. Maybe she’s upset you didn’t mate her brother, after all.
But even Selene sounds doubtful. Ivy hadn’t seemed particularly interested in me as a potential sister-in-law back then. You’d think she’d be ecstatic to hear I’m mated to someone else now, leaving her precious brother free and clear of my influence.
I push the doubts aside, focusing on the task at hand. “What brings you here, Ivy?” I ask, injecting a note of authority into my voice. “Lucas mentioned you asked for me specifically.”
“Always straight to the point, aren’t you, Ava?”
Was I? I don’t really remember our past encounters that way. It always felt as though I were dancing around her, never sure what she really thought of me.
“I just wanted to make sure you were doing well. Clayton said you would likely be with the Westwood Pack. It’s been a long time, and I had no way of contacting you since you left your phones behind.”
The way she speaks makes it sound as though I’d left them behind on purpose.
I push aside the nagging unease about Ivy as Lucas guides me to the table. As we sit, she takes a seat across from us, her smile still warm and inviting. It’s this warmth that throws me off balance, making me question my earlier impressions.
Why does Clayton’s sister have to be so enigmatic? Her brother is straightforward, his intentions clear as day. But Ivy? She’s a riddle wrapped in a mystery.
“How are things in Washington?” Lucas asks, calm beside me. He doesn’t seem to sense anything strange with the woman.
Ivy’s face transforms, the smile fading into a somber expression. “We barely made it through a vampire attack,” she says, her voice low. “It was intense. We lost many lives.”
As she describes the attack, I can’t help but compare it to what we faced here. The force she talks about seems almost paltry compared to the onslaught that hit Westwood. It’s hard to reconcile the two experiences.
“What about the rest of the area?” I ask, leaning forward slightly. “Have there been other attacks?”
Ivy nods, her green eyes meeting mine. “Some of the larger human cities have been hit, but it’s been mostly quiet on the coast. The biggest issue is communication. We can’t get cell towers or internet up and running.”
“How are you getting information then?” Lucas asks.
“Radio, mostly,” Ivy replies. “All the news networks are basically dead. It’s like we’ve stepped back in time.”
Her gaze sweeps over us, taking in our appearances, the room, everything. “How has it been here? The closer we got, the more evidence of fighting and destruction we saw.”
Lucas shifts beside me, his arm brushing against mine. “It’s dangerous to leave Wolf’s Landing,” he says, his voice grave. “There are hunters out there, searching for any supernatural presence.”
Ivy tilts her head. “Hunters? We haven’t encountered any of those.”
“Have you been in the cities?”
She shakes her head. “No. We did travel by car, but the past three days have been on foot, shifted.”
Lucas looks thoughtful. “You were lucky to get here unscathed. The supernatural communities seem to be allied with the attackers. A traveling pack would be easy to track.”
“What?” Ivy’s confusion is evident. “That can’t be right. Our supernatural communities were attacked, just like our pack.”
“How do you know that?” Lucas asks, his voice sharp.
She doesn’t flinch under his questions. “I’ve been to them,” she says simply. “When Clayton first started reaching out to see how widespread the devastation was, I volunteered to make contact. We have no real affection for them, but this isn’t the time to be picky about our allies.”
“You’ve been able to travel freely?” I ask, unable to keep the disbelief from my voice.
Ivy nods, her expression softening. “It hasn’t been easy, but yes. We’ve managed to establish contact with several communities along the coast.”
“And they’ve all been attacked?” Lucas presses.
“To varying degrees,” Ivy confirms. “Some worse than others, but none have been left untouched.”
I exchange a glance with Lucas, seeing my own confusion mirrored in his eyes. If what Ivy’s saying is true, then the situation outside our little bubble is vastly different from what we’ve experienced. But why? What makes this area so different?
“Tell us more about these attacks,” Lucas says, leaning forward. “How do they compare to what you faced?”
As Ivy begins to detail the various attacks she’s heard about or witnessed, I find my mind racing. The discrepancies between her account and our experiences are stark. While we’ve faced organized, strategic assaults, the attacks she describes seem more random. Chaotic.
The human cities were hit worse, without any way to fight back. Aspen, on the other hand, still holds control of their pack lands.
“It’s like they’re testing defenses,” Ivy says. “Probing for weaknesses, but not committing to a full-scale attack.”
“That’s not what we’ve seen here,” I interject, rubbing a finger against my temple as I try to think through the new information. “The attacks on Westwood were devastating. Coordinated.”
“That’s… concerning,” she says slowly. “Have you had any contact with other packs or communities in this area?”
Lucas shakes his head. “We’ve been focused on survival and rebuilding. The few attempts we’ve made to reach out have been met with hostility.”
“Which is why your arrival is so significant,” I add. “You’re the first friendly faces we’ve seen from outside in… well, it feels like forever now. We’re completely cut off.”
Ivy nods, her expression thoughtful. “I can see why Clayton was so worried about all of you. Unfortunately, we don’t bring supplies. It’s just us.”