Tangled in Moonlight: Unshifted (Ava and Lucas)

Chapter 387 Ava: Corrupted Whispers

The snow ends in a perfect line, as if someone took an eraser to the landscape. Beyond that boundary, the earth lies bare and lifeless. No grass, no moss, not even the hardy winter plants that usually peek through frozen ground. The soil itself looks wrong—ashen and cracked, like the bottom of a dried riverbed.

"I've never seen it this bad." My boots crunch on the dead earth. Each step sends up little puffs of gray dust. "Even the insects are gone."

The corruption is absolute here. Grimoire's fox form prowls beside me. It's consumed everything.

My bodyguards hang back at my insistence, though I sense their unease. Marcus keeps shifting his weight, uneasy despite his experience in these matters.

A wave of corruption rolls over me, and my stomach heaves. The taint feels different here—thicker, more concentrated. Like wading through tar instead of water. The dead zone stretches as far as I can see, pulsing with that sickly energy.

To the wolves, they only see dead land. But it's so much more than that.

Glancing at Grimoire, who's focused on the corruption, I ask, "How am I supposed to handle this? The purification usually takes over once I start. I've never had to stop it before."

It's about will and control. You must maintain awareness of your limits.

"That's not exactly helpful." The corruption beckons, a seductive whisper promising power. I've felt it before, but never this strong. "What happens if I can't stop?"

You must. His mental voice carries an edge of steel. Or the taint will consume you as surely as it's consumed everything else.

The dead earth crunches beneath my feet as I take another step forward. The boundary between life and death is so stark—winter's white giving way to corruption's gray.

"I need specifics, Grimoire. How do I cut it off when it gets to be too much?"

magic—through force of will.

press my lips together, frustrated. It isn't that I don't understand what he's saying, it's just that it's so freaking

time. My knees buckle, but I force myself to stay upright. The taint wants in—wants to corrupt

"If I fail—"

looks up at me with his unearthly fox eyes. But you must start small. Don't

adds, whining softly. She's far back, too,

My palms press against the ashen ground, and a shudder ripples through me at the wrongness of it. No life,

to myself. "Just a

I can do this.

magic surges forth before I finish the thought, eager and hungry. The corruption rushes in—thick, viscous, choking. My stomach revolts as the taint floods my system. Acid burns

out as a gasp between

like a magnet. It tastes of rot and decay, filling my mouth with the flavor of death. It's a

wave of nausea hits. I double over, one hand pressed to my mouth, the other still connected to the dead earth. The purification

Pull back.

need to pull

listen. It wants to consume all the corruption, cleanse every inch of tainted earth. The flow increases,

Grimoire's voice cuts through the

to stay upright. Sweat drips down my face despite the winter chill. The corruption pulses through me, each wave bringing

heave wracks

make it. Grimoire's mental voice carries steel.

Let it in. Let it consume everything. My magic reaches for more, eager to purify,

bile mixing with corruption's decay. But I keep my hand pressed to the earth, stubborn

Small.