Tangled in Moonlight: Unshifted (Ava and Lucas)

Chapter 337

Chapter 337 Ava: Coming Into Her Power

For a moment, I stare at my hand in disbelief. Did I really just do that?

You used too much power, Grimoire says. You can't let it shoot out like that. You'll hurt an innocent.

I wasn't trying, though. I'd just moved without thinking.

Yes. That's why you need to focus. Pay attention, he's getting back up.

Several wolves converge on the fallen vampire, but he swings his arms with a blood-chilling shriek.

He's hurt. He's going to draw on all his power to fight back.

But he's already doing it before Grimoire's words finish, swinging his arms in a wide arc that throws off five grown wolves. They aren't massive, but they're solid, large male wolves, who can't just fly through the air with a swing of someone's arm.

But the vampire manages it, his glittering red eyes locking on me.

"Ava!" Vanessa screams.

A pair of hands grabs me from behind, pulling me back toward the truck. I thrash, shocked to turn and see Wes' grim face. "Luna, you need to run. We'll hold them off for you."

"No, Wes, I'm not—"

The vampire's eyes lock onto me, a predatory gleam that sends ice through my veins. He moves so fast, he's nothing but a blur. My body reacts before my mind can catch up.

"Sorry, Wes," I mutter, planting my feet and using the young wolf's momentum against him.

a yelp, but he's safe. The vampire's claws whistle through the air

on it. The vampire is already pivoting, his attention solely

quite place who it is in the chaos—snaps and growls, momentarily throwing the vampire off balance. But it's not enough. With a snarl of his own, the vampire grabs the wolf by the scruff and

magic through your core, not just your hands. Visualize the energy coalescing in

through me. It feels directed, as though Grimoire's hands are on it, guiding it to where it needs to

vampire's arm is piercing forward, claws straight out, aiming for my chest, white fangs bared in a feral grin. He's covered in streaks of blood,

a punch at his chest, willing my magic to

erupts as my fist makes contact with his chest, and his torso explodes as though it's made of paper. The force of it sends

down at the gaping hole in his chest, then back

curl into

cut off his head. They can survive without blood,

in the

why it's

don't have a

Shape it, mold it. Imagine a blade of

dodge to the side, feeling the rush of air as his claws barely miss my face. He might still be alive, in whatever vampiric sense

brain tells

I can do this.

slow enough for me

I can fight.

magic as Grimoire instructed. But it's hard to concentrate with death literally snapping

attacks, one after another. He's not giving me a chance to

Focus.

me off guard. His hand closes around my throat, lifting me off the ground.

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