Tangled in Moonlight: Unshifted (Ava and Lucas)

Chapter 434

Chapter 434: Lisa: Rites

LISA

The pyres stretch across the field like fallen stars, each one a testament to another life lost. Twenty-seven flames reach toward the sky, and my heart aches for every single one. There's a sound barrier over the field, so wolves can howl and mourn.

It's haunting.

Ava stands before the first pyre, her voice steady as she speaks the names. She's grown so much. Even from my position at the back of the crowd, I can see how each name costs her, how she refuses to rush through them, even as her voice shakes.

My fingers find the familiar spot on my thigh, massaging the burning sensation that's been growing worse over the past hour. The pain makes me shift my weight, trying to find a comfortable position.

A particularly mournful howl rises above the others. Wolves of all colors lift their heads to join the lament. Their grief is raw in a way human mourning could never be, and my heart aches.

This pack has been through so much, and it's hard not to feel guilty as I remember my part in the first massacre.

Magister Orion is one of the few of us standing on two feet. Almost all the shifters are in their wolf forms as they grieve. Several of his Fae friends are clustered near him; they're all helping to maintain the sound barrier, faces impassive, despite the clear distrust they've been treated with since arriving here.

I know that feeling well.

The burning in my leg spikes, forcing me to take a half-step back. Normally, I would be surrounded by guards. Right now, they're in their wolf forms, mourning with the others, though only feet away.

None of the names Ava recites are particularly memorable to me, but my heart hurts for their families and this pack I belong to.

smoke and

wave of pain shoots

briefly before fading into the flames. It's something Magister Orion taught her, a rune he said was a blessing

she stops. Twenty-seven times she speaks. Twenty-seven times the pack's howls rise

at my attention, drawing my

sky. My thigh burns so much. Maybe walking will stretch

I do

other, taking me away from the rites, away from the guards

turns. No one notices. The wolves continue their mournful song and the

One step.

Then another.

My thigh burns, but it's

the other, drawn by something I can't

thought floats

"Lisa?"

the fog

The pain in my thigh recedes to its usual dull throb. I blink, awareness rushing back like

Fae watching me with

air is suddenly sweeter, clearer, and

little, I guess." Shaking off the strange feeling, I head toward the Magister, who pats my shoulder in an awkward cadence, too rough sometimes and barely brushing me the next. Like he's scared he's

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