Filed to story: Tangled in Moonlight Unshifted Novel by Lenaleia
“What about you and the girl?”
If you let me out, I can get her to talk. She’s just a child. She will break easily under fear.
Ignoring the wolf in my head, I answer, “We’ll keep her safe until you return. Just hurry.”
“You know this is risky. They’ll be looking for the car, and we might lead them back to the pack.”
Shaking my head, I can only say, “It’s less risky than letting her freeze to death before we get answers.” We need to know more, and we finally have someone from the other side to give us what we need.
Vester nods once, already moving to gather his team. Efficient and calm, he’s wasted as a delta. Still, as long as he remains loyal to our pack, I will keep him. Other packs would likely promise him a beta position in an attempt to poach his skills—and his mate comes as a competent healer, as well.
He is loyal, Aurum agrees. But soft. He does not have the ruthless streak we need in our beta.
Aurum’s disapproval radiates through our bond, but I push his thoughts aside. His bloodthirsty nature has its uses, but not with a child. His opinions were never so pointed before, but our bond has changed in many ways over these past months.
“We’ll head west.” Vester points through the trees. “There’s a town about two miles from here. Small enough that security might be lax.”
“Good.” My eyes drift to the south. There’s a rural road there; one of the scouts reported it earlier. “I’ll take the others that direction.”
I turn back to our captive as Vester’s group disappears, melting into the skyline. Pip hasn’t moved, still shivering on the ground, helplessly breathing on her fingers in an attempt to keep warm.
She is the enemy, Aurum growls. Do not let your guard down.
I shake my head. She’s a child, and she’s on our side. She just doesn’t understand that yet.
And when her ‘help’ leads our enemies straight to us?
I ignore him again, striding toward Pip. “Time to move.”
Her head snaps up, purple hair falling across her face. Fear flashes in her eyes before she masks it.
I motion for her to stand. “We have to move.”
She stumbles to her feet, clearly exhausted. The coat drowns her small frame, making her look even more vulnerable.
An act, Aurum mutters.
If he’s right, it’s pretty fucking convincing.
The guards flank her as we start walking, their wolf forms massive compared to her slight build. She trips twice in the first few minutes, and I wonder if her toes are already frostbitten.
Kill her now, Aurum suggests. Before she becomes a liability.
Enough. I slam our bond shut, cutting off his protests. As young wolves, we learn to close this door; it’s a necessity to keep our humanity in check during times of shifting. His rage at being silenced pulses against the barrier, but I maintain it.
Sometimes my wolf forgets that being an alpha means protecting the weak, not just dominating them.
It isn’t the first time and won’t be the last time we have a difference of opinion. If we ran everything the way our wolves wanted, most packs would look similar to Blackwood.
Pip stumbles again, catching herself against the wolf to her left. Her breathing comes in sharp gasps, visible in the frigid air. At this rate, we won’t make it to the road before dark.
“Stop.” I move closer, ignoring her flinch. “You’re not used to this terrain.”
She nods, but still doesn’t speak, even as she struggles for oxygen. This trek isn’t even terrible. Most of the snow is packed down, and it’s warmer today than it was a few days ago, though still frigid.
“Here’s what’s going to happen.” I keep my voice level, non-threatening. “We’re going to carry you. You’re slowing us down, and we have to move. Okay?”
Her eyes widen.
I gesture to one of the guards. “He won’t hurt you.”
The wolf approaches slowly, lowering his head to appear less intimidating. Pip takes a step back, clutching her hands against her chest, shaking her head vehemently.
“Your choice.” I cross my arms. “Either you accept help, or you keep struggling until you collapse. Then we carry you anyway.”
She stares at me for a long moment, weighing her options. Finally, her shoulders slump. “Can it be you?”
It’s the first words she’s spoken in hours.
Magister Orion’s footsteps echo against the floor of my cabin as he circles me for the tenth time. The sound matches the thrum of anxiety in my chest. Each time he passes behind me, my shoulders tense.
“Please stay still.” His deep voice carries notes of concentration.
A warm breeze tickles my scalp as he places his hand near my head again. The sensation reminds me of warm summer days spent out in the sun—pleasant, but unremarkable.
“I apologize, but I must try once more.”
My legs itch from standing so still. “Take your time.”
His frown deepens with each pass. The wrinkles around his eyes become more pronounced as he squints, as if trying to see through fog.
“I cannot detect what you’re describing.” He lowers his hand. “The ability to inspect a soul is not a magic we use among the Fae. I sense nothing unusual about you.” He then adds hastily, “I’m not doubting your word. Whatever this magic is, it’s beyond my understanding. Beyond my sight.”
Damn it. With Magister’s obsession over reading all things magic-oriented, I’d hoped… “I see. Thank you.”
Magister Orion’s expression softens. “This simply means we need a different approach. Sister Miriam might have better answers for you.”
My shoulders slump at the mention of her name. “I haven’t heard from her in months. I don’t even know if she’s okay.”
“Ah.” He strokes his chin, his swirling, blue-black eyes distant. “It’s likely dangerous for her to attempt contact outside the New Order at present.”
She’s alive. My heart thumps; while she isn’t on my mind daily, I’ve been worried about her for quite some time. “Why?”
His gaze fixes on mine, then slides away as he walks toward the couch to take a seat. “Sister Miriam has worked her way into the bosom of the New Order. The cost was… significant.”
It’s unusual for his body language to be so evasive. The corners of my lips tug down before I can stop them.
Grimoire murmurs, She likely had to sacrifice allies. It is understandable she wouldn’t risk contacting those she wants to keep safe, then.
His opinion is like an unwelcome jolt in my head. Sacrifice her allies? She wouldn’t do that.
Grimoire goes silent in response, but Selene has no such qualms. A dhampir is not like us, Ava. Their favor is fickle.
I shake my head. The accusation doesn’t sit right with me. Sister Miriam might be cryptic and strange, but she doesn’t seem the type to sacrifice others. She’s helped us so many times, demanding little to nothing in return. “What do you mean by cost, Magister?”
His massive form shifts on my couch, the furniture creaking under his weight. A weary hand waves through the air. “That’s a story for another day, child.”
“But—“
“I have contacts among the vampire communities.” He cuts off my protest to change the subject. “Though none I’d trust with your secrets. For now, we must wait for Sister Miriam herself.”
Grimoire’s grumble echoes in my mind. The sound reminds me of thunder rolling across distant mountains.
Why don’t you come out and speak with him directly? I ask Grimoire. Between the two of you, maybe you can figure something out. They’re both masters of theory, after all.
I have no interest in becoming his next obsessive field of research. Grimoire’s tone drips with disdain. Have you seen how his eyes light up at the mere mention of new magical knowledge? I’ve seen him in your memories. No, thank you.
The mental image of Magister Orion hunched over Grimoire’s book form, scribbling notes with fevered excitement, is enough to understand where he’s coming from.
Selene rests her head on the Magister’s leg, allowing him to pet her head and ears as she sits in front of him.
Magister Orion’s fingers trace the outline of Selene’s ears; she’s long been a source of fascination for him. “Still so fascinating. A wolf spirit residing in a husky’s form. How is this possible?”
“Your guess is as good as mine.” My shoulders lift in a half-hearted shrug. “We stopped trying to figure it out months ago.” A pang of guilt stabs through my chest as I add, “Her memories have disappeared, too. Not all, but a lot.”
His swirling eyes narrow as he pinches Selene’s ears together, then releases them. She doesn’t even twitch at the contact, content to bask in his attention. “Disappeared, you say? I wonder.” His massive form leans forward, causing my poor couch to protest. “Does your companion have access to her soul? Perhaps she bears similar wards.”
Grimoire? I direct the question inward, where his presence burns like a banked fire. Can you check?
His response crackles with irritation. My bond lies with you, not her. I cannot access Selene’s soul any more than I can access the soul of that tree outside your window.
The acid in his tone makes me wince. He’d talked about getting to the bottom of her missing memories, so I’d assumed—
Her mind and memories are not the same as her soul. Linked, but not the same. A soul comes with its own protections.
“I have no idea,” I tell Magister Orion truthfully.
Magister Orion’s fingers still on Selene’s ears. “Your souls are connected, yet you sense one and not the other? That seems… peculiar.”
My heart skips; Grimoire doesn’t want Magister Orion to know about his existence, but he’s exactly the reason I know this information. “Well, I—” Heat crawls up my neck. “I had a dream about my soul. That’s how I knew about the wards.”
Smooth, Grimoire drawls. Very convincing.
Shut up.
“A dream?” Magister Orion’s swirling eyes fix on my face; there’s no way he doesn’t understand that I’m lying. “I see.”
I clear my throat, desperate to redirect his attention. “What do you know about soul wards in general?”
“Ah.” Magister Orion shakes his head. “Soul magic is not something we Fae dabble in. The soul is sacred—meant to be untouched, the purview of the gods.” His fingers resume their gentle strokes along Selene’s ears. “Though that hasn’t stopped some from trying.”
“What do you mean?”
“There are always those who seek forbidden knowledge.” His swirling eyes darken to pure black. “The obsessive. The desperate. Those who believe they can master powers beyond mortal comprehension.”
My skin crawls. “Did they succeed?”
His lips press into a thin line, and he finally leans back, dropping his hand from Selene’s head. “We don’t know. Their research was destroyed, their names struck from our histories.”
“But some survived?”
“In secret, it’s likely. And there are vampires. They understand more about the soul than any other race. Their very existence depends on it—the transfer of life force, the manipulation of death itself. But they don’t share such information with others. It is, after all, their weakness.”
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