Tangled

69 Ava: Sister Miriam (I)

Mom’s fingers deftly twist and turn my hair, pinning it into some sort of elaborate style. Her touch is clinical, devoid of any maternal warmth, as she secures each lock into place with sharp tugs.

She’s been doing this for hours, trying to figure out the best style for the mating ceremony. The only comfort I have is in knowing she’ll never have the chance to dress me as planned.

“Honestly, Ava, couldn’t you have made more of an effort with your appearance?” she chides, as

disapproving as always. “Your hair is little better than a

rat’s nest.”

This is something she’s said at least three other times in the hour she’s been here. I bite back the retort that hovers on my tongue, knowing better than to provoke

her ire.

A musical jingle causes her to pause, and she checks something on her phone for a second, before returning to her project. “It’s a good thing your worth isn’t tied to your looks,” she continues, her words

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69 Ava: Sister Miriam (1)

cutting deeper than any physical blow. “You should be

grateful that Alpha Renard has deigned to mate with you, despite your deficiencies.”

There’s a little chip in the paint of the wall above the mirror, and my eyes are drawn toward it. It’s

something to focus on as I tune out her nagging and cruel remarks. For a woman who’s capable of so much love toward her older children, it’s amazing how much

vitriol she can throw at another.

were her child by birth, I would

likes of you. You’ll be

my composure, to keep

her gaze. She’s almost manic in her quest for my acquaintance. “This is your duty, your

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Sister Miriam

and you will bear his children. That is the extent

stiff and mechanical, like a puppet on strings. My mind, however, is

me the freedom to return to the Aspen pack, I’ll contact Lisa. We’ll run far away from the suffocating confines of this stupid pack and their twisted

mother’s nagging monologue. An older woman with an elegant bearing and a bright, unsettling gleam in her eyes enters the room. She exudes an aura of authority that sends shivers through my body.

her hair is black without the faintest sheen of

her features. “Sister Miriam,” she greets the stranger. “What an honor to have

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Ava: Sistor

They’re pale and thin. “The honor is mine, Grace. Alpha Renard requested my expertise in a delicate matter.” Her inhuman stare settles

my skin. It’s hard to hold her

hackles,

that’s dangerous even

what she is.

her cultured voice a little tense. She’s affected, too. “Alpha Renard said you

my neck, and I avert my gaze, suddenly unable to meet Sister Miriam’s probing stare. I don’t know what she

most skilled in detecting the earliest signs of breeding.

side, meeting my eyes again

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Sister Miriam

looks unnatural on her face, as though no

in a way that should be soothing, and yet paired with her face, it’s terrifying.

inside me protesting the close contact. It’s like my skin burns. where she touches, but when I try to jerk away, she

eyes.

trail her hand down my neck, across my collarbone, down my chest and finally coming to rest on my abdomen. “Tell me, have. you experienced any

Tenderness?”

“No.”

my stomach, and I flinch. Though her hands are cold, an unwelcome heat eats at my skin.