Tangled in Moonlight: Unshifted (Ava and Lucas)

Chapter 229 Ava: Fire

Bureaucracy in the Fae Ward moves with the pace of a paralyzed sloth, leaving me with an itchy feeling between my shoulder blades, as if staying here is the worst decision I've ever made.

Selene spends most of her time slinking around the Fae Ward, finding pockets of space with less wards to sneeze over. Vanessa and Marcus stick with me, with Vanessa sharing my bedroom.

Our first lesson doesn't happen for three days. Why?

Application for Unlicensed Magus to Practice Dangerous Magic Within Residential Areas.

It's an actual title of a piece of paperwork Magister Orion had to file. Apparently, new wizards (though the official Fae-paperwork term is magus, unknown origin) are deemed a deadly force. Whoever runs this place has a serious stick up their butt about me learning magic.

"I don't like it," Vanessa says, staring out the window. "They'll have your name on official paperwork. We have no idea how deep Renard's influence lies."

"It's only within the Fae Ward," I point out, like I have the other thirty times she's mentioned it. "If they're going to find me here, the paperwork won't be the only reason."

Marcus, of course, is quiet. We already know how he feels. He hates it and doesn't trust the paperwork, either.

Not that I disagree with either of them—it's just that, like them, I feel stuck.

help that I've been unable to reach Lucas for three days. Knowing that they're fighting over there, not knowing the

all of us on

papers with different runes written on them. Unlike the magic book I'm still kicking myself over for leaving in my room at the lodge, these runes don't disappear, and Vanessa and Marcus are able

nothing that happens when I

red tape, gave me these five papers and told me to find the elements within me that correspond to them. With such vague instructions, it's no

try to commune with a single element within

with fighting. Learning to center, to focus only on what matters. Maybe you're too

a dubious look—it's not like I haven't tried that before—I grab the

leaving only the sensation of my own body, its thudding heartbeat vibrating through my chest, and the pulsing core of

happens. I try to visualize tugging at it, like pulling on a string, but it remains stubbornly

this power if nothing works?

of my meditation, my thoughts drift to the rune for fire sitting on the paper in front of me. Fire. Destructive, passionate, life-giving. I think about its properties—how it consumes,

Burning.

Not a memory of this life, but of another. A dream? A vision? Whatever it was, it feels as real as

every fiber of my being. I couldn't move, couldn't scream, couldn't see. There was nothing but the

me. I want to pull away from the memory, to escape the

just

unmade by fire. The bright core of magic within me pulses in response,