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.

wasn’t positive I were her child by

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

a struggle to maintain my composure, to keep the bitter resentment

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

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Ava: Sister Miriam (1)

his children. That is the

puppet on strings. My mind, however, is already spinning, formulating a plan to

soon 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

unsettling gleam in her eyes enters the room. She exudes an aura of

eyes are a dark, glittering red and her hair is black without

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

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Ava: Sistor

honor is mine, Grace. Alpha Renard requested

of unease over my skin. It’s

hackles,

She’s an existence that’s dangerous even to wolves.

she

tense. She’s affected, too. “Alpha Renard said you would

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

“I am the most skilled in detecting the earliest signs of breeding. The alpha can rest assured that I will

my side, meeting

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Ava: Sister Miriam

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

a way that should be soothing, and

contact. It’s like my skin burns. where

eyes.

my chest and finally coming to rest on my abdomen. “Tell me, have. you experienced any unusual fatigue? Nausea?

Tenderness?”

“No.”

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