Tangled in Moonlight: Unshifted (Ava and Lucas)

Chapter 30 Ava: Omega? (Ill)

| groan as searing pain lances through my ribs, fairly certain that at least a few are broken from the impact.

Gasping for air, | blink through the haze of confusion, trying to make sense of the chaos surrounding me.

Derek is slumped over the steering wheel, a grotesque trickle of blood oozing from his hairline. In the backseat,

Jeremy lies crumpled in a disturbing, bloody mess, unmoving and alarmingly still.

For one hysterical second, | muse that this is precisely why seatbelts exist. Should've worn a seatbelt, Jeremy.

| grit my teeth against a wave of pain as | claw my way into the passenger seat.

My shaking hands fumble with the door handle, but the door remains stubbornly jammed. Peering through the

cracked windshield, | realize this side of the car has collided with a tree. A few inches of trunk are all that's

blocking my door from opening.

Adrenaline courses through my veins as | muster what little strength remains and kick the door with everything |

have. Before | can kick again, the door flies off.

| don't stop to question my luck. As | tumble out of the wrecked vehicle, gasping for fresh air, a strong hand

suddenly grips my arm, yankingupright. | whirl around, my heart pounding, only to find myself face-to-face

with a stranger—a tall, imposing man with chestnut hair and piercing green eyes.

His gaze sweeps over me, assessing, before he speaks in a deep, authoritative tone. "Are you injured?"

I sway into him, my battered body screaming in protest as | fight to remain upright. A dizzying wave of nausea

washes over me, and | squeeze my eyes shut, willing the world to stop spinning.

That's when the scent hits me—ocean fresh, with a woodsy scent lingering just beneath, along with something

that can only belong to one of my kind. A shifter. My eyes fly open, locking onto the stranger's intense gaze, and

| instinctively flinch away from him.

A mistake.

My legs buckle beneath me, and | brace myself for the unforgiving impact of the ground. But instead of hitting

the hard earth, | find myself enveloped in a strong embrace, cradled against a broad chest.

The stranger—no, the shifter—has sweptinto his arms with an ease that belies his impressive stature. |

tense, every fiber of my being screaming atto fight, to flee, but I'm utterly powerless against his hold.

His chiseled features are set in a grim line as he studiesintently. "Are you injured?" he rumbles, his deep

voice laced with concern.

| open my mouth to respond, but the words catch in my throat. The events of the past few hours have left me

reeling, and | can't seem to find my voice amidst the chaos.

He frowns, his brow furrowing as he takes in my silence. "We need to get you to safety," he declares, his tone

brooking no argument.

Panic seizes me, and | struggle feebly against his iron grip. | can't go with him!

But my efforts are futile. He merely tightens his hold, cradlingcloser to his chest as if | weigh no more than a

child.

"Easy now," he murmurs, his voice low and soothing. "I'm not going to hurt you. Rowan, take care of the rogues,"

he orders over his shoulder as he strides away from the scene of the accident, carryingwith ease.

| struggle against the waves of pain crashing over me. "Who are you?" | rasp out, my voice hoarse. "What's going

on?"

His green eyes find mine, calm yet intense. "I am Alpha Clayton Shadowpine of the Aspen Pack. And you are?"

| hesitate, unsure if | should give my real name. | feel safe for the immediate moment, but | know my future is

now even more uncertain. Selene remains silent in my mind. "Ava," | finally say.

"Well, Ava, you're safe now." His tone leaves no room for argument as he continues walking, heading deeper into

the trees. "Those rogues won't be a problem anymore."

| shiver, the adrenaline ebbing and leavingchilled in the crisp evening air.

"Are you cold?" the alpha asks.

"No, just—" | shudder as another tremor wracks through me, my teeth chattering uncontrollably.

Clayton tightens his hold, pullingcloser against his solid fras we approach a sleek black SUV. His

presence is both comforting and unsettling—a paradox that leavesreeling.

Part ofwants to burrow deeper into his warmth, to soak in the reassurance of his strength, to lean on an

alpha. It's been so long since I've been in a pack, and | guess somewhere deep inside, something's been craving

i)

Another part remains wary, a voice in the back of my mind whispering that | can trust no one, especially not

another shifter.

He shiftseffortlessly in his arms, freeing one hand to retrieve a set of keys from his pocket. With a deft flick

of his wrist, he unlocks the SUV, and the rear door swings open silently.

"Here, letget you inside where it's warm," he murmurs, his deep voice a low rumble that vibrates against my

cheek.

| tense as he moves to depositin the backseat, my fingers instinctively curling into the fabric of his shirt. A

strangled noise escapes my throat—a silent plea for him to wait, to givea moment longer before he pulls

away.

Clayton pauses, his sharp gaze assessingwith a penetrating intensity that leavesfeeling stripped bare.

His nostrils flare ever so slightly, and | know he's scenting me, picking up the nuances of my fear and

uncertainty.

"You're safe, Ava," he says, his voice a gentle rumble. "I won't let anyone hurt you."

| swallow hard, forcing myself to loosen my grip on his shirt. Slowly, carefully, he lowersonto the plush

leather seat, his movements measured and controlled. As soon as I'm settled, he shrugs off his jacket and drapes

it overlike a blanket, cocooningin its warmth and the lingering traces of his woodsy scent.

"Thank you," | whisper, clutching the jacket tighter around me. It's a small comfort, but one I cling to

nonetheless.

Clayton gives a solemn nod, his expression inscrutable. "We'll get you looked at by our healers," he says, his

tone leaving no room for argument. "And then we can figure out what to do next."

A flicker of unease stirs withinat his words. What does he mean by "figure out what to do next"? Is he

implying that I'll be staying with his pack? The thought is terrifying.

Before | can voice my concerns, the sound of approaching footsteps draws my attention. | tense instinctively, my

heart rate spiking as a tall, lean figure emerges from the shadows.

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