Tangled in Moonlight: Unshifted (Ava and Lucas)

Chapter 26 Lucas: Watching

LUCAS

Her scent dances around me. Every breath I take fills my lungs with the sweet, honey and vanilla notes that have haunted my dreams since that fateful night at the Lunar Gala. Ava. Just the thought of her name sends a shiver down my spine.

For weeks, I've been watching her from the shadows, unable to resist the pull of her presence. The need to be near her has consumed me, driving me to break into her apartment just to bask in the lingering traces of her essence. I'm a desperate man, lost in the throes of an obsession I can't explain nor control.

As I stand before her now, my wolf howls with unbridled joy inside my head, reveling in her proximity. Part of me had hoped that the fact she didn't run when she realized I'd found her meant something more. An acknowledgement of the connection that binds us together.

But as her gaze meets mine, devoid of any emotion, I feel the weight of disappointment settle heavily in my chest. She regards me with the same polite indifference she would show any other customer, and the realization stings like a slap to the face.

Leaning over the counter, I can't help but ask, "How have you been? Are you okay?" The words tumble out, laced with concern and a hint of desperation that I can't quite mask.

For a fleeting moment, I see her falter, a crack in her impassive facade. But it's gone as quickly as it appeared, and she meets my gaze with a cool detachment that cuts deeper than any blade.

"I'm sorry, sir, but I need you to order or step aside for the other customers."

Her voice is clipped, professional, devoid of any warmth or recognition. It's as if our shared moment in the garden never happened, as if the connection that ignited between us was nothing more than a fleeting fantasy.

I want to protest, to demand that she acknowledges the bond that ties us together. But the words stick in my throat as I remember the look on her face right before she turned and ran. All I can do is nod mutely and order something random off the menu.

When I give her my card, our fingertips brush together, and the spark of our connection floods through me. My wolf yips and whines. My mate, he howls, and I can only apologize to him again.

my fault that our mate isn't

as she leans

across his face. My wolf snarls within me, hackles raised as he watches the exchange, bristling at the familiarity between them. That asshole leans in, whispering something that makes Ava's lips quirk upwards in a smile that should be reserved for me

crunch of his nose breaking beneath my knuckles. It would be

I can't afford to do anything that

I seethe in silence as Carlos throws his head back with a laugh, basking in the warmth of Ava's attention. Every fiber of my being screams at me to intervene, to stake my claim and remind her of the bond

even for a fleeting second. It's as if I'm invisible to her, a ghost haunting the periphery of her world, unable to break through the barrier she's

staring at the woman I want more than anything, an older woman approaches me with a warm smile, her eyes crinkling at the corners in a way that speaks of a lifetime spent

smile in return. "No, thank you.

doesn't move to leave, her gaze drifting over to where Ava is chatting with the dickhead behind the counter. There's a knowing look in her eyes as she regards me, one

our Ava, don't you?" she asks, her tone casual

through my hair as I contemplate how to respond. Part of me wants to deny any knowledge of her, knowing she's probably told these people nothing. But there's something about the woman's gentle demeanor that compels me to

done something terrible to her, and I'm not sure how to make

me for details. Instead, she pulls out the chair across from me and settles into it, her expression one

mistake," she says sagely. "That's more than a lot of

shaking my head ruefully. "Trust me, it was more than just a mistake. I..." I trail off, swallowing hard as the memories of that night come

hurt and betrayal in her eyes. The scent of her tears mingling with the sweet honey and vanilla that clings to her skin. The anguished howls of my

more. She must have looked at me as salvation,

wonder she wants nothing to do with

thick with self-loathing. "Badly. And I don't know