Tangled in Moonlight: Unshifted (Ava and Lucas)

Chapter 373 Ava: Tracks

Once Lisa's finished eating and we feed the wolves who came with her—including Kellan, who seems determined to keep some level of distance from his mate, even as he sneaks glances at her when she's not looking—the entire tent goes down, including our stove.

It isn't long before I'm tucked back into my sled, despite protesting that the next area isn't far and I can walk there.

Lisa waves at me as she heads off with Mira, their forms growing smaller against the stark white landscape. The young she-wolf's animated gestures make Lisa laugh, and something in my chest loosens at the sound. It's good to see her making connections beyond just me, Kellan, and the gnomes.

"Time to move." Vanessa takes her place behind me; the guards are already in their wolf forms and harnessed.

It's still weird, even after having experienced it all day yesterday.

The sled glides smoothly over the packed snow, Marcus and Greg working in perfect sync at the lead, their fur gleaming under the weak winter sun.

You're brooding, Grimoire says, materializing beside me in his silver fox form.

"Just thinking about the late start."

You thought it was worth it.

"It was. I just wish there was more time in a day, that's all."

Have you noticed the change? He's adopted the tone of a professor to student again.

"Yes. It's denser than yesterday when I first sensed it, and it's moving, even though it's slow. Like a crawl."

The magical corruption pulses at the edge of my awareness, a nauseating weight that makes my skin crawl. It feels different. Concentrated. Wrong.

Keep your senses alert.

I have a theory,

Oh?

why we aren't seeing much. All the

tail swishes. It is possible, but we haven't seen it in action. It's a workable theory, but the question would be to

toward us, probably catching our quiet conversation. His massive gray form maintains

heavy miasma that seems to coat the inside of my skull. But there's something else, something I can't

find

* * *

long for us to make it to the edge of the dense

me before we reach it. It's not something that really hits my nose so much as my metaphysical senses, but my stomach roils, acid burning up my throat. Next to me, Selene sneezes repeatedly,

the edge of

press into a thin line as she helps me unbuckle the wolves from their leads. Her movements are quick, efficient, but her face betrays her unease.

echoes in my mind. Another

"What tracks?"

my distance from the corruption's edge. The tracks are clear—what

crouches beside me, pointing to the crisp edges. "See how the snow hasn't

the corruption's interference, we should

isn't like I need them to confirm it. What

measured. "At least ten different sets of prints. And no one from our pack

I echo, but I already

tracks with my eyes, my breath catching as I realize where they lead. "They're heading toward the camp

beside me. "We didn't pass any

them," Selene adds

without scent, near a pocket of corruption. None of my companions spotted them despite our vigilant

Shit.