Tangled in Moonlight: Unshifted (Ava and Lucas)

Chapter 31 Ava: Omega? (IV)

It's a man—no, a shifter—with a mane of auburn hair pulled back in a practical ponytail. His sharp features are softened by warm amber eyes that crinkle at the corners as he offers Clayton a respectful nod.

"The rogues have been taken care of," he says, his tone clipped and professional. "The authorities have been alerted, and our people are cleaning up the scene."

Clayton returns the nod, his expression grim. "Good work, Rowan. This is Ava—she was the target."

I study the newcomer with a mixture of curiosity and trepidation. His nostrils flare as he takes in my scent, and his eyes widen almost imperceptibly. Before I can react, he takes an impulsive step forward, his gaze locked on me with an intensity that makes my breath catch in my throat.

Alarm bells blare in my mind, every instinct screaming at me to flee. But then Clayton moves swiftly, placing himself between Rowan and me in one fluid motion. He extends an arm, effectively halting Rowan's advance with a subtle shake of his head.

Rowan freezes, his eyes fluttering shut as he draws in a deep, steadying breath. When he opens them again, a flicker of shame crosses his features, and he dips his head in a silent apology.

"My apologies, Ava," he murmurs, his voice strained. "It isn't often we run into a true omega entering heat."

My brow furrows in confusion as I glance between the two shifters. "A true omega?" I echo uncertainly. "I've seen many omegas enter heat. It doesn't seem rare."

by birth and omegas by rank," he explains, his deep voice measured and even. "Omegas by birth are rare, and their heat can affect any male in their radius. They're the only ones whose heat

A shiver runs down my spine as the implications sink in. If my heat can affect even the most disciplined of shifters, then

gaze holds mine, his expression unreadable. "Is

at the question, my jaw clenching instinctively. Memories of my family surge to the surface, bitter and unwanted. I can't bring myself to answer, to reveal any

us, thick with unspoken questions and lingering tension. Finally, Clayton gives a slight nod, as if

can tell us what you're comfortable with when you're ready." He turns to Rowan, his expression hardening ever so slightly. "Keep

his head in a terse nod, his amber eyes flickering towards me with a mixture of remorse and something else—something I can't quite place. "Of course, Alpha," he murmurs,

not just one, but two powerful shifters—an alpha and his beta, no less. And if what they're saying is true, if I really am this "true omega" they speak of, then I'm in a far

Selene when

the fuck

tremor wracks through me, and I clutch Clayton's jacket tighter around my shoulders, seeking

far away from so many shifters. From the alpha of this

draw in a shaky breath, smelling the ocean and pines

my seat, wincing as the movement aggravates the aches and bruises littering

he stands guard outside the vehicle. His broad shoulders are squared, his stance unwavering, every inch the powerful alpha he is. Yet there's a quiet strength about him, a sense of steady reassurance that radiates