Tangled in Moonlight: Unshifted (Ava and Lucas)

The Grand Sage peers at my watch through his magnifying glass. "Fascinating. The enchantment remains intact, yet something blocks the signal."

My fingers trace the edge of the crystal. The metal feels cold against my skin, devoid of its usual magical warmth. "Could the New Order have developed technology to interfere?" I ask, though it isn't like they even know about this new technology.

"It's always possible." Magister Orion's deep voice fills the room; he's here while Heize takes over guarding the dream-eater. "Their influence grows stronger each day."

Several shifters pass through the window, trudging east. More people heading out to help with the funeral pyres. Twenty-seven pyres. Each face flashes through my mind—mothers, fathers, children. Their families were grateful for my visit, thanking me for coming.

It's a sobering experience.

"Are you certain about holding the ceremony so far from Wolf's Landing?" The pyres are set a mile away.

Kellan's steady gaze meets mine. "The perimeter is secure. We have guards posted every hundred feet between here and the pyres."

My mind does the calculation and fails. How many feet are in a mile? A lot. "That's a lot of guards. Do we have enough?"

"The location is within our safe zone, Luna." His voice is soft. "We can't risk setting fire to the camp."

True. And the smoke. But my heart still hurts at our loss. "Okay."

I press my palm against the window glass. The sky is pristine and free of clouds; it's late in the day, when the sunlight fades into the vibrant oranges and reds of its golden hour. Everything's happened so quickly in the span of a single day. The attack, our victory, finding Magister and the Fae who follow him, even a nap...

"Lucas should be here. Maybe we should delay it." Not being able to contact him is driving me crazy.

"He's fine, Ava." Kellan seems to have developed a mind-reading ability, because I didn't say anything about my worry. Maybe it's all over my face. "Lucas knows how to handle himself."

"I know, I know." It isn't like I've ever been the one to save him, but it's still hard to have no update. "I wish they took their phones."

Not only are we not used to having phone service again—we're not convinced they aren't being tracked. Mine is turned off and has been for a while, but now I regret our paranoia. We relied on our watches, instead.

But the pack needs their Luna present and composed, not fretting over things beyond her control. I straighten my spine and turn back to the Grand Sage, who's still tinkering away. "What about using some sort of Fae magic to boost the signal?" Maybe with the Magister here…

a sigh. "Ava, if the receiver isn't here to calibrate, how are we supposed to expect it to adapt

Right. Stupid idea.

rites," Kellan says, his tone practical as he changes the subject back, "the sooner we conduct them, the better. While

we wait too long and the dream-eater wakes up… That

the rites, I mutter, "Maybe we should just kill them now that we know what they are. Get rid of one problem before the

is so swift, it's obvious he's been

"Even if you drive a

My stomach turns. "What?"

conventional sense. They exist between life and death, sustained by magic and the essence they consume. Traditional methods of execution are meaningless

rid of

my teacher agrees. "But they require specific circumstances and preparations we currently

on my arm; it saved me, but it isn't enough to destroy the dream-eater. And I don't have any magic like it.

crosses his arms. "Then what do you suggest

massive shoulders slump. "If I had access to my books again, I could give you a better answer. The methods of destroying dream-eaters are complex and require

Tinker pokes her head out; she's been on her belly down there, fiddling with

My brows fly up.

course they're real." Tinker's lilac eyes sparkle with mischief. "Their fire burns through

Magister Orion says with a sigh. "Enough,

hasn't been that long, Grimoire

Wait. Really?

hundred

a new one. I thought I couldn't be

voice cuts through my dragon-filled

is practical." Tinker dives back under the table, her

"Tinker, my dear, I don't

to hunt

a scent and I