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.

glasses 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 still wearing

saying she doesn't belong with

It's like a

I don't have

if I could, and you know it.

I still think one night of telling him to fuck off won't hurt. Maybe it'll teach your

Hah.

That won't ever happen.

says. The only person above him in the pack is our alpha—also not someone I'd like to

mutter, and she drops

apartments for rent, coming up with mock budgets, even

to notice the control my

first person to

that I still can't

is abusive. Who

Before I came of age and

that I bring out at night during my lowest times. Memories of Mom when she used to smile and laugh and rock me when I cried. Memories of Dad when he would throw me onto his

Good times.

Gone times.

eyes hadn't gone from warm like a lake in summer to frigid winter skies. If Dad

me what I wanted

My wolf.

alert—it didn't work. He's still

* * *

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),

things happen, she grabbed

I love her.

I have yet to admit that I'm a shifter. I haven't explained to her that I'm from the local

just thinks I'm neglected and abused from a normal human family, and I have to convince her not to call the cops at least

be able to

No part of

only way to guarantee my escape from my family and pack is to find my fated mate in another. I dream about

sometimes it hurts to even think about the possibility, because there's always the

in a new pack is just

scent of rain is carried on the breeze, telling us all that

quiet neighborhoods of White Peak, occasionally lit by a street lamp every block or so. Eventually, those buildings give way to an unlit rural road that leads into

familiar; I've driven it countless times in my life, but tonight,

the road. My grip tightens on the steering wheel as I navigate the twists and

eyes dart to the rearview mirror every few seconds, half expecting to see glowing eyes or shadows lurking in the