Tangled in Moonlight: Unshifted (Ava and Lucas)

Chapter 3 Ava: Danger

[WARNING: Sensitive content ahead.]

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Days pass with little regard for the anxiety building in my belly every time I crawl into bed at night, watching the phases of the moon, wondering what this next chapter of life will look like.

Aside from a brief shopping excursion with Jessa—who ignores me almost the entire time and scoffs at every dress I try on—I don't leave the house except for school and work, trying to avoid trouble.

I spend any spare moment I can manage picking up extra shifts at Beaniverse to help pay for the atrocious bill at the mall. Who spends three hundred dollars on a dress? But Jessa insisted that it was the only one that didn't make me look like I was wearing a silk potato sack.

Lisa's busy, too, so our texts are few and far between, mostly complaining about work and school.

My family's indifference weighs on me like a thick blanket, but beneath it, a tiny bud of hope sprouts—maybe, just maybe, I'll make it to the gala without incident. A week remains before the event that could change my life, or just as likely, confirm my place as the outcast.

Today, like the rest of the past two weeks, appears to be yet another day of unsettling peace as I head home after class with groceries in my passenger seat.

Phoenix is stopping by for dinner, so I have his favorites on the menu—a creamy garlic and parmesan roasted chicken, paired with bacon-wrapped brussels sprouts tossed in maple syrup and balsamic vinaigrette.

It sounds fancier than it is, but it really is delicious, thanks to the internet recipes I'd found years ago.

As the appointed alpha heir to the Blackwood Pack, Mom always fawns on Phoenix. Dad was thrilled enough that he had a son with alpha potential, but when Alpha Renard's last son was killed in a small skirmish with renegade wolves and Phoenix was named heir, he strutted more like a peacock than a wolf for at least a month afterward.

One day he will be Alpha Phoenix Blackwood, but for now, he's still a Grey.

I juggle the flimsy plastic grocery bags with the grace of a dying fawn as I make my way into the empty house.

The peace of these past few weeks must have rotted the self preservation sphere of my brain, because I don't pay any attention to my surroundings as I unlock the front door and walk in.

and the door slams with a force that can only mean trouble, bringing a familiar and unwelcome scent to

and ever-present tormentor, is here. Inside. With me. Right

he'd started

that chills my spine. I can't even step away as my brain struggles to catch up to the situation, watching as

being sent to find some fuckwit willing to take you as a mate." His voice drips with malice as he steps forward, slapping a hand

with a dull thump, and Todd's hand circles my neck, lifting me until I'm standing on the very tips of my

brain focuses on the apples that thud against hardwood. They'll be bruised. We'll have to eat them

think you're good enough for the gala, huh? You think you can ever escape our pack?" His breath is hot and tuna fresh on my face, and

insecurities, bleeding me of all those precious hopes and dreams I've kept in secret. "Do you actually believe anyone would want you? A wolfless freak like you? You'd be rejected

in response to my

my ear, and I can feel his tongue flick over it. I shudder, bile rushing into my throat, making it even harder to bring

the torturous game I'm

his forearm, scratching long, angry swathes down his skin. I try to

my entire body and trying to ignore the hard evidence pushing against my belly of exactly how much he's enjoying this

when I come home with bruises, but now the gala is just around the corner. If his youngest daughter showed up with bruises all over, there

the tender skin of my throat, and I lower my eyes. A long time ago, I would refuse to submit, taking every abuse thrown my way and plotting revenge. That

for submission, I can give him it all day long. Whatever lets

infusing the sound with a little vibrato, as though I want to cry. I tilt my head further back,

His growl of approval sends revulsion shuddering through every millimeter of my skin, and I struggle to keep my face blank as he sniffs beneath my left ear, licking the crescent-shaped scar on my neck

with force, but I somehow manage to avoid

a little. His other hand falls to my hip, tugging me closer, and I close my eyes, breathing through my mouth to offset the metallic tang

his jaw rigid and unyielding. The shriek that escapes me is beyond my control, and I slap at

but not before suckling a motherfucking hickey onto my skin. He grips my jaw, staring into my eyes, and

defective piece of shit, but you belong here. There's no prince on a white

to my

he lets go is replaced only by a horror as his hand slides slowly down my neck, between my breasts, and rests gently against my belly, pushing in,

for much else, but at least we can fill this with little