Tangled in Moonlight: Unshifted (Ava and Lucas)

Chapter 401 Ava: Ivy's Memories

"Fiona used to braid my hair every morning." Ivy's voice breaks. "She'd tell me about the boys she liked, about her dreams of becoming a teacher. She never stopped treating me like just... me."

A tear slides down her temple, disappearing into her hair. My chest tightens at the raw pain in her voice.

"James was the funny one. He'd make these terrible jokes during pack meetings. Once, in second grade, he..." She draws a shuddering breath. "He put a rubber snake in Clayton's desk, and my brother shrieked like a child. Everyone laughed. I hated him, because Clayton was my hero. But then they became best friends after that. At some point, I stopped hating him."

Her grip tightens, and I let her anchor herself to me. Whatever it is in her system pulses against my magic, as if testing it. Beneath it, I sense something else—genuine grief, sharp and jagged.

"And David." Her voice drops to a whisper. "He was going to propose to his mate. Had the ring picked out and everything. He showed it to me the morning before..."

She breaks off with a sob that wracks her whole body. Without thinking, I squeeze her hand back.

"I should have protected them all better." The words tumble out between gasping breaths. "They trusted me. And now they're dead because I wasn't strong enough."

"You couldn't have known—"

"Don't." Her eyes snap open, fever-bright and desperate. "Don't tell me it wasn't my fault. Don't tell me there was nothing I could do. I've heard it all before and it doesn't help."

I fall silent, understanding completely. Sometimes platitudes just make the guilt worse. She's an accomplished warrior, trained by her pack. Trying to minimize her pain is more of an insult than a comfort.

Her fingers clutch mine so hard it hurts, but I don't pull away. Touch grounds us, connects us. Right now, that connection might be the only thing keeping her from drowning in her grief.

"I see their faces every time I close my eyes," she whispers. "I hear their screams. Feel their pack bonds snap. Over and over and over."

The taint surges with her distress, and I have to bite my tongue to keep from telling her about it. Not now. Not when she's this vulnerable, this raw.

Her other hand finds my arm, gripping it like a lifeline. "How do you do it? How do you keep going when everything hurts so much?"

The question hits me hard. How do I keep going? Through the abuse, my mother's rejection, my father's manipulation—through all of it, I just... did. Because stopping wasn't an option.

It wasn't always pretty, and there's so much I regret. But I kept going.

at a time. And you honor

"Do you know what happened out

"No."

Frightened. Shadowed with the deaths of wolves she considered family. "I'm not sure I do,

to ice.

Nothing out of the ordinary. Then—" She shakes her head, wincing. "Pain. So

taint pulses against my magic again, stronger this time. I force myself to stay still,

remember running." Her voice drops to barely a whisper. "But I don't know what from. Or to. Just... running. And screaming. But I don't know if it was me or—" She breaks

I squeeze

mine, fever-bright but lucid. "Something's wrong with me. I can feel it. Like there's something inside me, clawing

some level, she knows about the

"When did it start?"

attack. Maybe during?" She shivers despite her fever.

eyes roll back, and her head lolls to the side. Just like that—as if someone flipped a switch. Her grip on my hand goes

"Ivy?"

in the steady rhythm of deep sleep. The taint inside her pulses once, twice, then

door creaks open behind me. Vanessa's footsteps approach,

to face Vanessa. "One second

supplies and presses two fingers to Ivy's throat, checking her pulse. "That's not normal. Even with the fever, people don't typically drop off mid-sentence like

"Could it be exhaustion?"

as she checks Ivy's temperature. "Did

her escort team. About not remembering parts of the attack." I pause, debating how

hands still against

clearly.

shown minutes ago. No trace of that desperate grip on my hand or

taint. But something's not right about it." My voice barely rises above a whisper, even though the woman's asleep

to the side as she listens. "What

my fingers to my temples. "It's too strong to be a light corruption. I felt it surge

taint at all." The healer reaches for her stethoscope, then pauses. "Could