Tangled in Moonlight: Unshifted (Ava and Lucas)

Chapter 237

Chapter 237 Ava: Wrung Dry

By the time we exit the training room, Vanessa and Marcus have to hold me up to walk in a straight line.

It isn't the type of exhaustion where my muscles are sore and stretched and tired after running or doing a thousand squats. It's more like the energy in my body has bled away, leaving me so weak that my muscles can no longer function properly.

When exercising, you can kind of feel good about your exertion. The pain and exhaustion comes with a sense of accomplishment.

This?

It just feels like I'm a wet dish rag wrung out one too many times.

The water's gone, and now I'm going to float away on the next strong breeze.

Ava! Where did you go?

Selene's panic is so explosive in my head that my legs buckle, even with the support of two shifters.

Long story. Training room. Magic place. My body's dead. Training sucks.

Even in my head, I can only speak in short sentences. It feels fuzzy and also like something's slamming into it with a sledgehammer, fueled by the rage of a thousand flying monkeys.

Not sure where the flying monkeys came from, but I'm just going to go with it.

Are you okay? she asks, and the warmth and care from her side of the bond also seems to infuse me with a little bit of extra energy.

the night to see their child gone; someone who cares about me. I need food. And sleep, I tell her.

contact," Magister Orion says, peering at my face. "Does it hurt to speak with your

head jerks up. "What? No. Why do

sorry. You just looked

that," Vanessa says, sounding

nods, despite

years of experience," I mutter, wishing I had the

ass. They're way too comfortable making fun

apart. Especially

me open and look at me under a microscope, Selene says, and I can feel her

of interest, because she interrupts him to ask, "Why do you call her

the Fae. We don't have

your identity?" I ask with a frown, as Vanessa and Marcus help settle me into a chair. With a wave of his hand, Magister Orion manifests into creation several plates of steaming hot

have a particular corresponding animal to the ones we are used to in our world; for example, their steaks might be from a giant

delicious and—most importantly—have no magic in them

food. I'm still not certain on the allegiances of people in this city, and I'm hesitant to get Sister Miriam in trouble for possibly going outside of

smile when she catches my eye. Everything on the table is food I've had before and enjoyed;

how exhausted

various vegetables onto my plate, Magister Orion finally responds to my question. "Your identity is not defined by your family. Even when one is disowned, they remain true to their own sense of self, do

moment. There's no way he's talking about my family dynamics, but I still feel like I've

his question

not tied to our

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