Tangled in Moonlight: Unshifted (Ava and Lucas)

Chapter 417

Chapter 417: Lucas: Strange Symbols

LUCAS

What the hell is this?

Our fur bristles, but we can't linger on the shock of the moment.

The green circle pulses with an otherworldly glow, yet Aurum's paw passes through it as if it's nothing but air. No scent, no resistance.

Magic. Obviously.

Our attention turns to the bodies. There's something strange about them. Bloated, decaying, but somehow devoid of… bugs.

It's unnatural.

Unnatural, Aurum agrees with a growl. His agitation is high in here. Desecrated.

The stench of death fills my nose, but beneath it... Pack. My pack.

These bodies…

Yes, Aurum confirms. Pack.

Their faces, bloated and discolored though they are, are recognizable. Pack lost at different times in these past few months. The initial attack at Westwood. During the strange invasions. And more.

My feet carry me around the circle. Each step reveals another familiar face. Another pack member I failed to protect.

Five bodies total are pack. All who should have been laid to rest with proper rites, their spirits released to run free with the moon.

Instead, they're here. Defiled. Used for some sick ritual that makes me want to howl with rage.

The green circle pulses again, mocking us. Aurum wants to tear through the walls, hunt down every bloodsucker responsible for this desecration. But I force myself to stay focused, to memorize every detail.

They were preserved somehow. Kept from fully decomposing. We've seen some of our wolves brought back to life in some strange way, used as a zombie army; is this how it begins?

Or have they outlived their usefulness?

Too many questions. Too few answers.

Beneath the bodies we know, partially hidden, lie others. Fresher ones. Maybe humans. Maybe wolves from other packs.

thing remains constant. There's a strange mark on all of them. Strange, interlocked circles. An

semi-preserved in this

simmers,

For a split second, the air fills with the taste of copper and rot. Then nothing. But the

Son of a bitch.

Track the scent!

pack bond, even as I know it's too late. Whatever this is, it won't be that easy to

instinct screams to chase after our pack members, to track down whoever dared desecrate their bodies. But

now shows bare ground,

of decay and

never existed. Death.

can't

but won't give up that easily. Keep looking. Keep

Whatever magic whisked the bodies away left

makes my mental ears itch. We are here.

our chest. Aurum's rage

We can see claw marks, broken buildings. But no bodies, living or dead. The entire camp's been cleared

we finally escape the sod house. Jericho would

Perhaps.

tell Vester, already gathering my

* * *

camp is as empty and ravaged as Vester reported. Unlike the sod house, though, there's a lot of scent

we can

Rage. Death lingers beneath it all, a stench

it's impossible to tell if

traces of Jericho's scent leading north, but it vanishes at

corner. The vampires

else. Something familiar that makes my skin prickle. I follow it

floor, pages torn and scattered. A strange thing to find,

cleared this room. Vester follows me, his ears pricked forward

I circle the

but it's there. Ozone and lightning.

Magic.

of destroyed books. Beneath the heap, something pulses with energy. Not the sickly green corruption from the sod house, but something

magic. I can't always sense it, but sometimes I

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