Filed to story: Tangled in Moonlight Unshifted Novel by Lenaleia
“When you’re engaging in carnal relations,” he continues, ignoring my warning. “The amount of magic you release during those moments is astronomical. Your control is nonexistent. How awkward would that be, to have me appear next to your bed while you were in the middle of… that?”
Poor baby. Selene’s amusement fills my head. Is the ancient being uncomfortable with a little physical affection?
“I am not uncomfortable.” Grimoire straightens his shoulders, looking for all the world like a sulky child. “I simply find the act far too intimate for someone of my experience.”
You mean you’re a prude.
“I am several millennia old!”
“And currently arguing about my sex life while I’m naked in the shower.” Slamming the shower door shut as gently as I can manage while showing a little temper, I glare at Grimoire through the glass.
Squeezing shampoo into my palm with more force than necessary, I add with as much calm as I can fake, “Can we not? I think it’s reasonable to shower in private. Necessary, even.”
He started it.
“I most certainly did not. I merely pointed out—“
“Both of you, shut up.” Soap suds slide down my back as I rinse my hair. “Or I swear I’ll bind you both into actual books and donate you to a library.”
Impossible.
“I’m already a book.”
“I’ll donate one of you as a rug and one of you as a book, then.”
Grimoire looks unsatisfied
You don’t know how to skin animals.
“Is that your only concern, Selene? Because I can learn.”
The silence in my head is satisfying, and Grimoire disappears from the counter.
A mindless tune escapes my lips as I finish rinsing off, letting the hot water soothe my aching muscles. Stepping out, I wrap a fluffy towel around myself and pause.
Wait a second.
The counter’s empty.
I peek into the bedroom. Nothing but rumpled sheets and scattered clothes from last night’s activities, as I expect. Water drips down my legs as I pad into the living room, leaving wet footprints on the wooden floor.
The messenger bag hangs innocently by the door.
Why are you getting the house wet? Selene asks, sounding exasperated. She must have come back in while I was showering, and has what suspiciously looks like jam on her muzzle. Probably the toast with jam Lucas made for me before he got dressed.
Selene has a small problem with stealing food off the counter. She figures if I don’t eat it, it’s fair game.
But more importantly—I poke at Grimoire’s bag.
“How the hell did you appear in the bathroom when your book form is all the way over here?”
Grimoire materializes beside me, his childlike face twisted in a sour expression. “Our bond has grown again. Something someone of your magical caliber should be able to detect.”
“I’m sorry—” The words slip out automatically before I narrow my eyes. Reaching out with my magic, I probe our connection. “Wait. It feels exactly the same to me.”
He sighs, shoulders slumping. “Sometimes you’re very slow for someone so talented.”
I step toward him with a scowl. “Want to repeat that?”
“Fine.” He backs away, hands raised. “I can project a spiritual form of myself within a few feet if I have enough power banked.”
“What does that mean?”
“Exactly what I said.” His form flickers, shifting into a small fox before returning to the child-shape. He floats upward, pointing toward his bag. “See? I’m still right there.”
I peek inside the bag. Sure enough, there’s his book form, exactly where I left it. “But how—“
His sulky expression deepens as he crosses his arms, floating cross-legged in the air. “With all the work we’ve been doing together, isn’t it natural for our bond to grow closer?”
Not as close as ours, Selene says, slipping behind me to rub her head against my thigh. Pieces of fur stick to my wet skin, and I shove her away.
“At least I don’t shed,” he snarks back.
Can’t really argue with that. Leaving them to their mild rivalry, I pull Selene’s fur off my leg before getting dressed and cleaning up all my wet footprints. By the time they’ve insulted each other’s ancestors, IQ levels, and their taste in food, I’m done.
“So.” I cross my arms, staring at Grimoire’s floating form. “Are you ever going to explain how I’m supposed to recognize when our bond gets stronger? Or am I just supposed to guess?”
His childlike form shimmers, and he waves a dismissive hand. “You should be able to feel it.”
“But I can’t.”
“Then I don’t know what to tell you.” He floats higher, legs still crossed. “It should just feel stronger. More present. Like a rope getting thicker, or a river growing wider.”
“That’s not helpful.”
“It feels stronger to me.” His shoulders lift in another shrug. “Much stronger.”
Maybe it means she doesn’t like you as much as you like her. Selene’s mental voice drips with lazy amusement. She stretches out on the floor, front paws crossed. Simple explanation.
Grimoire’s form flickers, his mouth dropping open. “That is not how bonds work! They’re a two-way connection, built on—” His hands flap as he sputters. “The bond grows naturally through use and trust. It has nothing to do with liking each other.”
His form solidifies as he regains his composure.
Keep telling yourself that.
“Are you sure?” I press my lips together, fighting a smile at his scandalized expression. “Because Selene might have a point.”
“She does not have a point.” Grimoire’s feet touch the ground and he stalks toward me, every inch the offended ancient being trapped in a child’s form. “Our bond is sacred. Pure. Based on—“
Like.
“Stop that!” His voice cracks. “You’re both impossible.”
The next week is busy.
Reports of scouts encountering aggressive rogues. Even angry humans, armed with guns.
Three wolves are lost in the resulting skirmishes, and several are injured. While many heal within a day or two, some have spent the rest of the week in our hospital. Not all wolves heal quickly.
The snow crunches under my boots as I trudge forward, my breath visible in the frigid air. Marcus and Greg flank me in their human forms while five other wolves circle our perimeter, their thick winter coats blending with the snow-covered landscape.
“There’s another pocket ahead.” My voice comes out raspy from the cold. “About fifty yards to the right of that fallen pine.”
Marcus nods, his dark eyes scanning the treeline. “Same protocol as usual?”
“Yes. Keep your distance when I start the purification.”
The taint feels different today—heavier, more viscous. Like tar seeping into the earth. Each step closer makes my skin prickle with unease.
It’s been getting worse.
“Ready?” Greg asks, positioning himself just behind me.
I pull off my gloves and stretch my fingers. The cold bites into my skin, but I’ve learned that direct contact makes it all easier. “As I’ll ever be.”
The wolves spread out in a wider circle as I approach the contaminated area. No vegetation grows here—just dead, blackened earth in a perfect circle. The taint didn’t affect the surrounding area at first. Lately, it’s as if it’s eating into the earth itself. Before, it was like an invisible cloud living above ground. Now, it’s like it’s fusing into everything.
The ground. Trees. Every living being that passes through it. Even squirrels seem to have gone mad.
We’ve had to be careful hunting; I have to look over all the game our hunters bring home. There’s no idea what will happen if we ingested corrupted meat.
Drawing in a deep breath, I press my palms against the frozen ground. The taint immediately responds, writhing beneath the surface like a living thing. It fights me as I draw it up through the soil, into my hands.