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.

I wasn’t positive I were her child by birth, I would definitely assume I’m

your head. The title of Luna is not for the likes of you. You’ll be a mate in name only. It’s still an honor, but the pack

to keep the bitter resentment from showing

understand?” she presses, looking into the mirror so I’m forced to meet her gaze. She’s almost manic in her

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Ava: Sister

Renard, and you will bear his children. That is the extent

strings. My mind, however, is already spinning, formulating a

as Phoenix grants me the freedom to return to the Aspen pack, I’ll contact Lisa. We’ll run far away from the suffocating confines

my 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

wolf, but she isn’t human, either. Her eyes are a dark, glittering red and her hair is black without the faintest sheen of color in

of respect crossing her features. “Sister Miriam,” she greets

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Ava: Sistor

lips. They’re pale and thin. “The honor is mine, Grace. Alpha Renard requested my expertise in a delicate

my skin. It’s hard to

I had hackles, they’d

predator. She’s an existence that’s dangerous even to wolves. I can feel it,

what she is.

too. “Alpha Renard said you would be able

creeps up my neck, and I avert my gaze, suddenly unable to meet Sister Miriam’s probing stare. I don’t know what she can do that a pregnancy test can’t this early on, and I’m not sure I want

skilled in detecting the earliest signs

stops by my side, meeting

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Sister Miriam (1)

white. It looks unnatural on her face, as though no other

for concern, child,” she says. Her voice is sweet in a way that should be soothing, and yet paired with her face, it’s terrifying. “I

upward as she turns to look at me. I shiver at the touch, something inside me protesting the close contact. It’s like my skin burns. where she

eyes.

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

Tenderness?”

“No.”

hand presses firmly against my stomach, and I flinch. Though her hands are cold, an unwelcome heat eats at my