Filed to story: Tangled in Moonlight Unshifted Novel by Lenaleia
They aren’t even ranked wolves; they’re weak. It won’t be hard to overpower them before they can alert anyone.
Then, much as a small flame can burst into an inferno. there’s activity. A flurry of it, seen in glimpses through bright windows.
Alexander Grey and his daughter, Jessa, rush out of the house, taking separate cars. They’re silent, though I imagine their minds are cacophonous with pack links.
Grace is still inside. She’s weaker than she appears, but she’s intelligent. We’ll have to avoid her mindlinking to warn anyone of what’s going on here.
I nod to Vester and the four shifters we’ve dragged into this mess of a mission.
Vester, you’re with me. We have to overpower the beta’s mate before she can sound the alarm. You four, break off into pairs and take the guards. Remember, they can’t have the chance to mind link any of their pack, or we’ll be fighting all of them.
They all nod in unison, faces grim and determined.
Let’s go.
We move in a tight formation, the world around us fading into our breath, our every movement. My focus narrows to the scents drifting on the crisp night air- humid summer nights, pine trees, and the scent of a particular brand of perfume, with jasmine and honey notes carried through an open window.
A silent hand signal, and we split off. Vester and I veer toward the back entrance while the others flank the guards patrolling the perimeter. Time slows as we wait with bated breath for the telltale signs of engagement.
Suddenly, a muffled grunt shatters the silence. followed by another in rapid succession. The guards have been neutralized with ruthless efficiency, just as we’d planned.
Vester meets my gaze. No words are necessary; a single nod and we proceed. The door is unlocked, to our surprise, but as one we slip through it, our steps a mere breath against the hardwood floors.
Perfumed fragrance tickles my nose as it grows stronger. My wolf strains against its restraints, growling with the thirst for the hunt. But I can’t afford to lose control, not yet. Not until Ava is safe.
The kitchen is open and airy, making it easy to slip through without knocking into anything. I can smell my mate’s presence, and it’s almost impossible to wrest control from my wolf as he slinks low in my mind. Vester is a silent shadow at my back with every step closer to our target.
In the living room, I can see her silhouette just around the wall. She’s peering outside, but her body language isn’t on alert.
Not yet.
I meet Vester’s gaze, and he gives a slight nod. In one fluid motion, I draw the syringe filled with wolfsbane from my pocket. It was a calculated risk to bring it with us, in case of any accidentsbut it’s worth more. than its weight in gold.
The only concoction on this planet fatal to every wolf.
It shouldn’t be enough to kill her… Not yet, anyway. Maybe in a few days, if we’re lucky.
I rush into the room, watching as her body tenses when she realizes something’s wrong. She has no chance to act on her instinct as I stab into her neck with the syringe, depressing the plunger at almost the same time.
Even a single drop can interfere in her ability to transmit across mind links. Her body crumples in an instant, unconscious before she can make a sound. I stand over her prone form, my heart pounding in my ears. The scent of jasmine and honey mingles with the acrid tang of wolfsbane, making my nose burn.
Part of me wants nothing more than to end her life right here, right now. She’s been complicit in Ava’s imprisonment, and the thought of her suffering brings a twisted sense of satisfaction. But I can’t. It’s rare for mates to sense severe injury, but it’s impossible not to notice your mate’s death.
Alerting Alexander is out of the question.
-Grinding my teeth, I turn away from Grace’s unconscious form.
My wolf stirs restlessly, pacing in the confines of my mind as I creep up the stairs. I can’t sense anyone except Ava, but I’m not taking chances.
The tantalizing scent that grows stronger with each step is torture on my senses.
Ava
Vester falls in step behind me as we make our way down the hall, our movements purposeful. He’s here to keep me from losing my mind in my mate.
The area is secure, one of my men reports through the pack link. We’ve hidden the bodies from view.
Good. The last thing we need is for someone to notice the bodies.
At last, we reach Ava’s room. Her scent is overpowering here, a heady mix of honey, vanilla, and something distinctly her own. My wolf strains against his restraints, desperate to claim what’s ours.
Steeling myself, I reach for the door handle-
A blur of movement, and suddenly there’s a knife slashing towards my face. I jerk back just in time, feeling the breeze of displaced air past my cheek. My heart thunders and my wolf howls as I come facetoface with the woman I’ve been longing to see.
Lucas’ scent hits me after I’ve already tried to murder him.
An unmistakable blend of the outdoors, of amber and campfire smoke, of something so uniquely mate that it draws me in even through the pain of our past.
It’s him. He’s here.
The knife clatters from my trembling hand as every muscle in my body goes lax with relief. I’d been so tense, coiled tight like a spring ready to snap, terrified of losing my life tonight. But now Lucas is here.
He came for me.
“Lucas,” I breathe out, hope and prayer all in one, the sound barely more than a whisper. My entire body crumples, overworked in its stress.
He’s really here. I’m not dreaming. He’s not a hallucination. This is real. Real.
My mate.
My savior.
Strong arms wrap around me, drawing me in against an embrace both hard and warm, filled with assurance and yearning. His hands hold me as if I’m some tender, precious thing, going from my back, up to the back of my head, brushing gently against my hair. He’s dropping kisses over the top of my head, against my eyebrows, then my eyes, whispering my name in a ragged chant before crushing me to him once again.
“Ava. Ava. Sweet Ava. You’re safe now. Shh, it’s okay. I’ve got you, Ava. You’re safe now.” His voice rumbles, vibrating his chest against my cheek. One hand cradles my head, the other runs soothing lines down my back.”
I want to respond. I want to ask him why he’s here. To thank him for coming. To tell him how terrified I was. To explain everything. But only a choked sob comes out as all the emotions of the last few days takes over, gripping my body in a coldfingered grip of horror and distress.
Tears pour down my face, soaking into the fabric of his shirt as I cling to him, as if letting him go means I can never see freedom again.
Lucas just holds me closer. “It’s alright, sweetheart. Let it out. I’m here now. No one’s going to hurt you again.”
“Sir, we need to move,” a shifter I didn’t notice murmurs from behind him.
I want to look at him, but Lucas holds my head firmly against his chest, rubbing me in that soothing rhythm as I try with desperate gasps and sobs to gather some semblance of control.
“What do you need to bring with you?” Lucas asks, and I shake my head.
Nothing.
There’s nothing here worth keeping.
“Okay. I’m going to carry you, Ava. We need to go fast, before anyone notices you’re gone.”
I nod, a short, choppy movement of my head, blowing out a shuddering breath, then filling my lungs again.
Another breath out.
He shifts his arms, sliding one under my legs and lifting me as though I weigh no more than a sack of potatoes.
I’m too exhausted to feign modesty, or worry if I’m too heavy. I just lean against him, trying to breathe in a way that sounds less… wet.
“Let’s go,” he says, but he’s talking over his shoulder, so I close my eyes and relax against him.
As he carries me out of the room, I fight the urge to think about the pasthis rejection, my complicated feelings for Clayton, or the tangled web that brought me here. I just want to be a boneless lump in Lucas’ arms, soaking in his presence and the promise of freedom.
But then a nagging thought tugs at my consciousness, and I jerk slightly in his hold. “Wait,” I murmur, struggling to find my voice. “I think there’s a tracker in my phone.”
Lucas doesn’t hesitate. He fishes the burner phone out of my pocket and hands it to one of the shifters accompanying us. Without blinking, the strange shifter crushes the device in his hand, destroying any potential tracking device.
Next, he produces a small canister and sprays me down with a fine mist. The scent is earthy and familiar, very neutralseeming. “This will help conceal your scent for a while,” he explains, before handing me a small pill. “And swallow this. It’s a longlasting scent diffuser that will make it harder for anyone to track you by scent.”
I obey without question, trusting Lucas and his team implicitly. The pill leaves a bitter taste in my mouth, but I welcome the added protection it provides.
It occurs to me that I had so much suspicion when Clayton came to my rescue, but with Lucas despite our historyI can feel so comfortable. Comfortable enough to allow myself to be drugged.
Mate bonds are crazy like that, I guess.
With the precautions taken, things move at a clipped pace. Lucas leads the way, his strides purposeful and determined, and the strange shifter with the scent diffusing drugs is right behind him. Four more appear out of the shadows as we leave the house.
The woods envelop us, the darkness broken only by the occasional beam of moonlight filtering through the canopy above. The humid summer air is heavy with the scent of earth and foliage. Our footsteps are muffled by the soft ground, but the snapping of twigs and rustling of leaves/betray our passage.