Tangled in Moonlight: Unshifted (Ava and Lucas)

Chapter 1 Ava Grey, Pack Defect

Author Note: The first two chapters have had a complete overhaul, for a better reading experience. Please enjoy. [May 28, 2024]

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What are you supposed to do when your pack—your family—has decided you're worthless?

Get a job.

Save money.

Dream of getting the hell out of there.

It's a futile thing to hope for, but it's the only thing I have that keeps me going.

Until then? I'm just me. Ava Grey. Wolfless. Weak. The shame of the Grey family.

Which is why I'm spending another Friday night working at Beaniverse, a popular coffeeshop in the middle of White Peak, a solid hour's drive away from pack land. No shifters, no drama, no bullying; the only people I run into all day are humans with a caffeine addiction. Or social media addictions. People love to use our lobby as a backdrop for their latest reel.

"Come out with me tonight."

Lisa pops her head into my field of view as I wipe down the espresso machine.

I have no major attachments to my job outside of my pay, but it is my favorite place to be because of her. Lisa is my best friend—okay, my only friend—and she makes me dream of something more than the Blackwood Pack and my uncertain future in it.

"Can't. Dad wants me home as soon as I can."

The grimace that twists her face gives me a warm little tingle in my chest. At least someone gets me.

Even if she's a human and has no idea that I come from a family of wolves.

Dad—our pack beta and an expert at curt text messages demanding my presence home—only allowed me to get a job because he was tired of seeing me at home, I'm pretty sure.

And because every single cent of my paychecks that didn't go to gas went to the thousand dollars I'd borrowed for my beat-up old clunker Taurus in the parking lot. It's my baby, and I love it, but I'm one weird splutter away from wrecking on the highway.

Still—the little freedom it allows me is worth it.

Anything is better than being home.

"You should just move out. We can get an apartment together and party all night." Lisa says this just about every day we work together, and it never grows old. I want that life, too. I don't even need the partying. I just want to get away from my pack.

But wolf shifters don't just let go of their own. Even wolfless defects like me.

up the bridge of my nose, hating how they slide. I probably need a new prescription, but I haven't had the time—or extra money—to pour into that. I'm

sign saying she doesn't belong with

bad eyesight. It's like a gift from

don't have

towel in her direction, watching her squeal and jump back. "I would if I could, and you know it. Aren't you supposed to

to fuck off won't hurt. Maybe

Hah.

That won't ever happen.

pack beta. Even if he acknowledged me as an independent adult, I'd still have to do what he says. The only person above him in the pack is our alpha—also not someone

mutter, and she drops it.

for rent, coming up with mock budgets, even discussing our school schedules. Lisa's pushy in

first person to notice the

first person

person to say words that I still can't admit

abusive. Who the hell

age and they realized I

times. Memories of Mom when she used to smile and laugh and rock me when I cried. Memories of Dad when he

Good times.

Gone times.

it would hurt a little less if I hadn't shared that affection with them once. Maybe it would hurt a little less if it hadn't simply… disappeared. If Mom's blue eyes hadn't gone from warm like a lake in summer to frigid winter skies. If Dad hadn't thrown me into the woods with no clothes, no food, and no

me what I wanted

My wolf.

work. He's still mad about

* * *

work is always a little production in the parking lot after closing. Lisa never leaves until I'm safely on the road, half in worry that my car will break down (and honestly, I have the same fears), and the other

that she could have the same things happen, she grabbed

I love her.

friend, my ride-or-die girl, I have yet to admit that I'm a shifter. I haven't

neglected and abused from a normal human family, and I have to convince her not to call the cops at least twice a week. Especially when I

be able to do

No part of the government

way to guarantee my escape from my family and pack is to find my fated mate in another. I dream about it—we all do. It's a fantasy I can't

hurts to even think about the possibility, because there's always the chance that I have no

worse, that my life in a new

but the crisp scent

by a street lamp every block or so. Eventually, those buildings give way to

driven it countless times in

in on me, casting long shadows across the road. My grip tightens on the steering wheel as I navigate the twists and turns, feeling my anxiety wriggle about in my belly,

suffocating. My eyes dart to the rearview mirror every few seconds, half expecting