Tangled in Moonlight: Unshifted (Ava and Lucas)

Chapter 82 Ava: Hospital, Again

Vanessa looks atwith confusion etched on her face. I'd laugh a little, except I'm a little too worried about her

callingby a title | shouldn't have.

"You're... not our Luna?" she asks, in this careful way that makesthink she's been told the exact opposite.

Has Lucas been spreading the word that I'm his Luna? Because that seems a little presumptuous. No, not a little;

a lot presumptuous.

It's hard to be too angry when he risked his life to save me, but it's not impossible, so | seethe a little on the

inside, shaking my head.

There's a ringing in my ears and an increase in the throbbing ache of my face when I do, so | stop, holding up a

hand instead. "No. No, I'm not."

Vanessa's gaze goes from the top of my head, down my body, and eventually to the side of my neck, despite it

being covered in bandages. Her brow furrows as she considers my words.

| take the opportunity to study her. She's cute. If she didn't smell like a wolf and | had to choose an animal for her

to be able to shift into, I'd choose something tiny and fluffy, like a rabbit. Or a red panda. She has scurves to

her and a soft face, with large, doe-like eyes and lashes that are too long to be real.

Despite the lack of make-up on her face, | suspect she at least throws on sfalse lashes and mascara.

I would, too, if I knew how to do it. Short eyelashes suck.

"But you are Lucas' mate, aren't you?" Her question throwsoff. | was too distracted by looking at her face

and pondering if there was anything out there that could shift into a red panda.

A lump forms in my throat at the mention of his name. Unable to meet her gaze, | lower my eyes to the light

quilt over my legs. It isn't the kind you'd normally find in a hospital. Instead, it's a real blanket that you'd see in

someone's home. Between that and the shirt I'm wearing, | have a feeling that I'm getting special privileges due

to this misunderstanding.

"Yes, | suppose." | don't sound very confident, because I'm not.

"But?" Vanessa prompts, leaning forward.

This is a conversation I'm probably going to have a lot in this place, so | take a deep breath, steeling myself for

the admission that still stings, even after all this time. "He rejected me. Months ago."

The fact that my voice doesn't waver a single iota is something I'm proud of.

It's not my fault. He rejected me. That's a him problem, not aproblem. Right? Who rejects their fated mate?

It's a question I've pondered thousands of times since it happened.

I still don't know why. | just know that he showed up one day with apologies, before disappearing again.

Of course, | was kidnapped before | could wait around for him to show up again, but—who knows if he even did?

Dumbass. Of course he did. He cfor you, didn't he?

A frustrated sigh escapesat the thought. None of this makes sense in my head, and | can't stand it anymore.

Vanessa's expression shifts to one of amused thoughtfulness, and | can't help but wonder what's going through

her mind with my admission. Before | can dwell on it further, she seems to shake herself out of her reverie and

refocuses her attention on me.

"Well, that's a story for another time," she says with a small smile. "For now, let's take a look at your injuries."

She moves closer to the bed, and | brace myself for the inevitable discomfort. My entire body protests

movement, and | can only imagine how much it's going to hurt with her hands on me.

Vanessa is gentle as she peels back the fabric of the oversized shirt, revealing crisp white bandages wrapped

around my midsection.

"You sustained spretty severe gashes here," she explains, her fingers lightly tracing the outline of the

bandages. "Claw marks, confirmed."

| nod. | remember getting the injury.

"And these..." She gestures toward my face, neck, and shoulders, where | can feel the stinging remnants of bite

marks. "These were mostly caused by teeth, it seems. Nasty pieces of work, those bites."

| nod again, not trusting my voice at the moment. The pain is manageable, but the trauma lingers. Having a

flash of those teeth snapping at me, sinking into my neck, my face, my shoulders...

It's a lot.

Vanessa's expression turns grave as she continues her assessment. "Unfortunately, there was widespread

infection, particularly in the wounds where you were bit. It set in rapidly. You've had a high fever for two days,

and coded once on your way to the hospital."

I blink. "Coded?"

| died?

She grimaces. "Yes. Between your blood loss and the rapid infection, your heart rate ceased to exist for a short

time."

My stare is probably rude, but—excuse me?

I'd think I'd know if I almost died.

It seems like that's the kind of thing that sticks with you for a while.

"You were unconscious," she adds helpfully. "Thankfully, we got you stabilized just in time." She winks. "You're

welcome. It was sof my best work."

Trying to smile back is an effort, but | manage something that must pass muster, because she continues on, her

face settling back into a professional mask.

"We have you on antibiotics through your IV, which has helped a lot already. Your cultures should be back later

today and we will be able to tailor your medicine to the infection. Right now, you're on three different broad-

spectrum antibiotics to cover all bases."

It's like | can understand every word out of her mouth, and yet she's speaking a foreign language.

"|... see? Thank you." The point is that I'm doing better, so I cling to that.

"In bad news, you don't seem to have any accelerated healing. We hoped having Alpha's scent near you would

help with that, but if you aren't mated, it's no wonder..." Her words trail off. "Well, | could get you a gown, if you

prefer."

"No, thank you." My refusal is swift, and my cheeks burn under her knowing scrutiny. My fingers, sore and

bandaged from minor cuts that | can only asscfrom the knife that | used to end Todd's life, pluck at

loose threads in the quilt.

There are none, but | pretend anyway. I'm too embarrassed. "His scent... um, it might not help with the healing,

but it helps calmdown."

Vanessa nods. "I understand. My mate's smell is like a natural Xanax for me."

I nod along as Vanessa explains the treatment plan, her gentle voice and demeanor puttingat ease despite

the unsettling details. Apparently, they can't close the gashes on my abdomen, and | just have to live with them

draining and frequent changes of the dressing. It's a little daunting.

Just as she's about to continue, the door to my room swings open with a forceful shove.

A tall, slender man strides in, his white coat billowing behind him. His angular features and neatly coiffed hair

give him an air of arrogance that setsimmediately on edge. He doesn't sparea glance, instead flipping

through the chart in his hands with a look of impatient disdain.

"Vanessa," he greets curtly, not even looking up. "I see you're still wasting tcoddling patients instead of

doing your job properly."

Vanessa visibly bristles at his condescending tone, her lips pressing into a tight line.

I decide then and there that | hate the man.

"Dr. Ellison," Vanessa replies, her voice clipped. "I'm caring for our guest as any decent healer would."

He scoffs, finally deigning to look atwith cold, appraising eyes. "Guest? She's a Blackwood." His gaze rakes

over my bandaged form with unveiled disdain. "I'd have thought you'd want to prioritize your efforts for the

patients who matter."

The barb stings, bringing a flush of embarrassment to my cheeks. | open my mouth to protest, but Vanessa beats