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.

that our mate isn't in our arms,

almost hypnotic, drawing my gaze. The gentle sway of her hips as she leans over to grab a mug, the way her delicate fingers curl around

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

her is overwhelming, my fists clenching at my sides as I imagine the satisfying crunch of his nose breaking beneath my knuckles. It would be so easy, so deliciously satisfying to put him

my palms as I wrestle with the animalistic impulses raging within me. I can't afford to do anything that might jeopardize what little chance I have of winning her over. One wrong move, one slip of control,

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

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

an older woman approaches me with a warm smile, her eyes crinkling at the corners in a way that speaks of a lifetime spent laughing. "Good morning," she greets me cheerfully. "Can I get you

head, offering her a polite smile in return.

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

Ava, don't you?" she asks, her tone casual but laced with a hint of

any knowledge of

I admit quietly. "But I'm afraid I've done something terrible to her,

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

she says sagely. "That's more

than just a mistake. I..." I trail off, swallowing hard as the memories of that night come flooding

Ava had looked at me with such 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 wolf as our mate fled from us, leaving us both

now, my soul shrivels even more. She must have looked at me as salvation, and

wonder she wants nothing

to choke out, my voice thick with self-loathing. "Badly. And I don't know how