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.

her child by birth, I would

head. The title of Luna is not for the likes of you. You’ll be a mate

maintain my composure, to keep the bitter resentment

understand?” she presses, looking into the mirror so I’m forced to meet her gaze. She’s almost manic in her quest for my acquaintance. “This is your duty, your obligation to the pack. You will mate

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Sister Miriam (1)

and you will bear his children. That is the extent of your

mechanical, like a puppet on strings. My mind, however, is already spinning, formulating a plan to escape this waking nightmare.

return to the Aspen pack, I’ll contact Lisa. We’ll run far away from

a bright, unsettling gleam in her eyes enters the

hair is black without the faintest sheen of color in its

respect crossing her features. “Sister Miriam,” she greets the stranger. “What an

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Sistor Miriam

is mine, Grace. Alpha Renard requested my expertise in a delicate matter.” Her inhuman

skin. It’s hard to hold

hackles, they’d be

existence that’s dangerous even to wolves. I can feel

she

little tense. She’s affected, too. “Alpha Renard said you would be able to see if our

probing stare. I don’t know what she can do that a pregnancy test can’t this early on, and I’m

the earliest signs of breeding. The alpha can rest assured that I will

meeting my

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Sister Miriam

smile is wide, her teeth too white. It looks unnatural on her face, as though no other muscles move

child,” she says. Her voice is sweet in a way that should be

tilt my chin upward as she turns to look at me. I shiver at the touch, something inside me protesting the close contact.

eyes.

murmurs, letting go to 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 unusual fatigue?

Tenderness?”

“No.”

her hands are cold, an