Tangled in Moonlight: Unshifted (Ava and Lucas)

Chapter 146 Ava: Without His Knowledge...

Lucas watcheswith concern and care, but all | can say is, "Oh."

Spart ofhad expected Mom to stay in a coma forever. Or die.

| didn't think about her much. Ignoring her existence is easier than dealing with—well, everything.

"I would have to return to Blackwood in order to question her." Every word is careful and measured, as though

he's not sure how I'm going to respond.

He doesn't inviteto go. I'm not sure | want to. He probably realizes that.

Selene glances toward us, her ears flicking as she listens.

"I don't think that's the best idea. Your pack needs you here. They need to see their alpha." I'm hesitant to speak

up, but Selene's watchful gaze givesa little confidence. "Alpha Clayton is still there, isn't he? | think he

should lead the interrogation."

It's our first tsaying his nbetween us, and | can feel Lucas' muscles tense.

Trying to give him a little comfort, | grab his hand, threading our fingers together. A silent message that I'm still

here. That I've already made my choice.

My heart hurts when | realize how little I've really thought about the damage I've done to this man.

He relaxes, drawingcloser, his thumb rubbing against the back of my hand. "You're right. I'll call him."

It's amazing how warm my heart feels, knowing that I've given Lucas a little peace of mind, with a hint of my

heart.

I've wasted so much tworrying about his intentions. Worrying about being trapped in a gilded cage.

Being brave is easier than | thought it would be.

He brings our joined hands to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss against them. "I have to meet with Kellan and

discuss everything, but I'll keep you updated. | promise."

* kK

The front door closes with a soft click, and Lucas' warmth disappears with him.

| pace across the floor, my arms wrapped around my middle, hugging myself as if that'll hold all the broken

pieces inside oftogether.

Mom's awake.

Lisa's gone.

Vampires attacked.

Sister Miriam's trying to get in touch with me.

My father might be hiding in a city of vampires.

It's a lot to think through. To process.

You're going to wear a hole through the floor. She watchespace, her attention distracted from her show. Why

don't you summon Sister Miriam and see if you can get sanswers? That might help you.

| pause mid-step, thinking about Lucas. About the baby steps we managed today.

"l can't."

Why not? Isn't that what you wanted to do?

"Yes. No. | don't know." | rake a hand through my hair, frustration bubbling up inside me. "It's not that simple."

Because of Lucas.

It's not a question. Selene's too perceptive for that. She sees right through me.

| groan, sinking back onto the couch. "I don't want to lose his trust by going behind his back. But | can't risk

Lisa's life over him, either."

So, tell him everything.

My voice cracks. "What if he looks atdifferently? What if he doesn't wantanymore?"

Selene is quiet for a long moment. Then she nudges my leg with her nose, her fur soft against my skin. He could

have given up on you a long tago.

She sounds half-strangled to even admit it, and | laugh a little. She's not wrong.

He's still here, despite everything. He's nothing like my parents. My family.

Lucas makes you happy. | want you to be happy. Selene's words are simple, but my heart fills.

"You always call him my ex-fated."

Is your mate bond based on fate or choice?

It's on the tip of my tongue to say fate, of course. But then I think back.

Despite our bond insistently tugging us together, it isn't the reason | want to connect with him.

It's just Lucas.

How he cares. How he cfor me. How he's been there, no matter how much | run from his feelings.

"Choice," | decide, feeling the truth deep in my heart. Our fated bond drives us together, but it's not why | want

to be with him.

Then he is your chosen mate, even more than he's your fated one.

"But what if—"

You can't build a relationship on secrets and lies. But it's your choice. | will be here, regardless.

Even so, it feels like a betrayal to put my bond with Lucas over Lisa's life.

Maybe it's the wrong decision.

I'm actually half-convinced it is the wrong decision. That | should have taken the opportunity while | was here to

talk to him.

But | grab the candle. "I'll explain it to him after | talk to her. | can't wait around just because I'm worried about

his reaction."

Ignoring that little tug at my gut trying toabout future problems, | grab the candle and light it, sneezing at

the smell of burning dust.

Selene sneezes beside me. It's awful. Like burning dust and a dead fly.

| ignore her complaint, too focused on the task at hand. Squeezing my eyes shut, | picture Sister Miriam in my

mind—her dark hair, pale skin, and those disconcerting red eyes that seem to see right through me.

"Sister Miriam," | whisper, my voice barely audible even to my own ears.

At first, nothing happens. The room remains silent save for the soft hum of the television in the background. But

then, something shifts. The image of Sister Miriam in my mind grows clearer, more vivid. It's as if she's standing

right in front of me, those unsettling eyes boring into mine.

A shiver runs through me, and | feel a strange sensation wash over my body. It's like I'm being pulled forward,

tugged towards something | can't quite comprehend. The room aroundseems to fade away, replaced by an

endless expanse of red that matches the color of Sister Miriam's eyes.

Ava? Selene's concerned voice sounds distant, muffled, as if she's speaking tofrom underwater. What's

happening?

| try to respond, to tell her | don't know, but the words catch in my throat. The red engulfscompletely now,

surroundingon all sides. It's suffocating, overwhelming, and | feel rising panic in my chest.

Just as I'm about to succumb to the fear, the red dissipates.

The change is jarring. My eyes take several rounds of rapid blinks to adjust.

I'm no longer in my apartment.

Instead, I'm standing in the middle of a brightly lit room. It's a cozy little space, an eclectic mix of vintage and

modern. It should look haphazard and pieced together, but it looks almost quaint. Cozy. Clean.

Soft, plush armchairs with sleek, minimalist end tables. Colorful throw pillows scattered across an elegant, if

worn, leather couch. There are bookshelves everywhere, each filled to the brim. Recognizable modern books

mixed with ancient encyclopedias. Sspines show different languages.

There are even fabric-covered books that have my fingers twitching with the need to run my finger down the

length of them.

A bibliophile's dream.

Where the hell are we?

"Welcto my home, child."

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