Tangled in Moonlight: Unshifted (Ava and Lucas)

Chapter 162 Ava: Mom (II)

As we enter the hospital, the sterile scent of disinfectant and the hushed whispers of staff and visitors envelop us. Selene, ever attuned to my emotions, presses against my leg, offering her silent support. I reach down and run my fingers through her fur, drawing strength from her presence.

A few steps in, a security guard takes notice of Selene and frowns. "I'm sorry, but dogs aren't allowed inside the hospital premises."

Vanessa steps forward, her voice calm and authoritative. "This is a service dog. She's with us."

The guard glances at me, then at our bodyguards—dressed in suits, with sunglasses, and essentially a walking cliche. His expression turns guarded and he waves us on. "Of course, my apologies. Please go ahead."

Relieved, I glance down at Selene, only to find her prancing alongside me, head high. Hey, you know service dogs aren't supposed to strut like show dogs, right?

She huffs, but stops her front-leg flicking prance.

Vanessa seems to know where to go as she navigates the maze of corridors and several random sets of elevators.

With each step, the knot in my stomach tightens, anticipation and dread intertwined. Grateful for Vanessa's presence, I follow behind, digging my fingers into Selene's fur for comfort.

Remember, she can't do anything to you, Selene whispers in my head.

The door to my mother's room is as mundane as any other. Brown. Silver handle. A note on the door asking to contact the nurse before drawing labs.

Nothing that says a terrible person resides within and to beware of your heart.

My hand hovers over the handle as my heart beats loudly in my ears. Vanessa places a reassuring hand on my shoulder.

"Remember, Ava," she murmurs into my ear, "you are in control now. Your mother's power over you exists only in the past. You are stronger than you know."

I nod without glancing at her, closing my eyes and drawing in a deep, slow breath.

amount of oxygen I take in and I

I can do this.

glance at Selene and Vanessa, I push

lit, the beeping of machines and a faint hiss coming from somewhere behind

once-vibrant features pale and drawn. The sight of her, so vulnerable and fragile, sends a pang of unexpected

can be as warm as a summer lake or as

like she's dead

follows close behind, her presence a constant comfort. I

whisper, my voice cracking with emotion.

flicker of recognition. I swallow hard, fighting back the tears

I hate her.

I hate this woman.

I love her with

like this hurts, and I wonder if it would hurt this much

ignoring the fact that she was fighting for her life from the wolfsbane, was so

okay, Ava. It's okay

against the linoleum floor, harsh in the stillness

like

see how

my movements with an unsettling intensity. Despite the dullness in her gaze, there's a flicker of something there—a spark of recognition, perhaps, or a glimmer of the fierce

voice barely above a whisper. The

mother says nothing. She simply stares at me, her expression unreadable. Then, slowly, she lifts a hand from the bed, the movement labored

in my chest as her emaciated hand reaches out towards my face. It's a surreal moment,

from her touch, but

Her fingers draw closer.