Tangled in Moonlight: Unshifted (Ava and Lucas)

Chapter 450: Ava: The Crone?

Vester magically catches up to me before I even leave Wolf's Landing, rounding out my posse of bodyguards.

"Lucas really needs to stop sending you out so much," I tell him with a frown. "Vanessa needs you around more."

Vester's laugh cuts through the crisp winter air—a deep, rolling sound. Coming from him, it's unfamiliar and out of place. Vester isn't really a laugh-out-loud kind of guy, at least around me.

He chuckles, or smirks, or smiles, but I don't think I've ever heard him belly laugh like this before.

"You must not know my wife very well," he says, slowing his pace to match mine. "Vanessa's a control freak."

"What? Vanessa?"

We pick up our pace, settling into a slow, steady jog toward the perimeter breach. My bodyguards mostly follow behind, but two range ahead by about fifteen feet.

Cold air stabs into my lungs with every inhale, but it's nice to be out like this again. Would be better if I wasn't mildly stressed about what I might find at the other end of this alert, though.

"So, what do you mean by control freak?" I ask, genuinely surprised. Vanessa always struck me as the calm, collected center of any storm.

Vester huffs, not even winded. "She's always complaining my help makes her work twice as hard."

His words sound suspiciously like a cop-out so he doesn't have to do chores. "I don't believe you."

"Every time I do the dishes," he says, jumping over a fallen branch without breaking stride, "she washes them again because she doesn't think they're clean enough."

My eyebrows shoot up. I'm unable to clear the log with his wolf-like grace, so I scramble over it like a three-legged deer instead. "You're kidding."

"Or when I fold the laundry, it isn't neat enough." His voice carries no bitterness, only fond exasperation. "I try, and try, but she keeps taking over."

The snow crunches beneath our boots, and I notice how Vester keeps scanning our surroundings even as he talks about Vanessa. Always on alert, even when relaxed.

"Maybe you should give her a direct order," he suggests, flashing me a smile full of mischief. "As Luna. Tell her to let me do the chores without complaining for the next year."

I nearly choke on a laugh. "I'm sorry, but I think that's above my pay grade."

His answering laugh echoes through the trees. For a moment, it feels almost normal—as if we're just friends out for a morning jog. I spend most of my time with Kellan, so it's nice to my relationship with Vester has progressed, too. I don't think he liked me very much at first.

of running, the burning in my legs starts. Maybe I should have warmed

puff out between breaths, "how pissed was Lucas that I'm going to—" puff, puff, "check on the—"

sideways glance, his expression somewhere between

only reason Lucas isn't with you right now is because the Aspen Alpha offered to come along. So now Lucas is dealing

easily, like he

"Really?"

blame him?" Vester asks, not slowing his pace even as

the breath I'd probably say something like, "You'd think he'd know by now I have no feelings for Clayton." Still, I get it. It isn't like

Shit. Ivy.

thinking about her all morning, but now I'm wondering how Clayton's doing with her gone. Guilt stabs me in the side of my ribs—or maybe it's

it. I shouldn't already be out of breath

start, and you haven't stretched your body properly in days. If you'd run properly and breathe right,

all, coming so late in the

"Thanks," I mutter sarcastically.

legs settle into an easier, more familiar rhythm once I think

slows his pace even more, though, giving me a little chance to breathe. After a couple minutes my lungs are

northern ward line. The invisible boundary should tickle against my magic, but all I feel is a strange emptiness—like stepping into a room where someone's removed all the

fan out in practiced formation without my saying a word. Vester motions for me to stay back, but I step closer anyway, my eyes scanning the snow. There

to me except a lot of life forms have gone through this

magical perspective—my wards are off, as if someone's turned off

nose works overtime, sniffing at the ground and air with increasing agitation. Suddenly,

It's like walking

magic?" I ask under my breath, keeping my

form bounds in a zig-zag pattern across the snow, before returning to me. Someone used a significant amount of power here recently. I think they were trying to identify your

the area, feeling the back of my neck prickle.

Neither.

snaps toward him. "What? Then what is

pretty sure they're

"Are you sure?"

Mostly.

be the only one, but it seems strange one would appear smack-dab in

nose extends forward, inching toward what appears to be empty air. She sniffs once, twice, then pokes her nose forward—and