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,

is not for the likes of you. You’ll be a mate in name only. It’s still an honor, but the pack can never

to keep the

into the mirror so I’m forced to meet her gaze. She’s almost manic in her quest for my acquaintance. “This is

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Ava: Sister Miriam (1)

and you will bear his children. That is the extent

nod, the motion stiff and mechanical, like a puppet on strings. My mind, however, is already spinning, formulating a plan to escape

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

mother’s nagging monologue. An older woman with an elegant bearing and a bright, unsettling gleam in her eyes enters the room.

isn’t a wolf, but she isn’t human, either. Her eyes are a dark, glittering red and her hair is black

mother straightens, a look of respect crossing her features. “Sister Miriam,” she greets the stranger. “What an honor to have you grace us with your

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playing on her lips. They’re pale and thin. “The honor is mine, Grace. Alpha Renard requested my expertise in a delicate matter.” Her

my skin.

I had hackles,

is a predator. She’s an existence that’s dangerous even to wolves. I

what she

mother says, her cultured voice a little tense. She’s affected, too. “Alpha Renard said you would be able to see if our Ava

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 to.

most skilled in detecting the earliest signs of breeding. The alpha can rest

stops by my side, meeting my eyes again

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Sister

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

that should be soothing, and yet paired with her face,

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

eyes.

my neck, across my collarbone, down my chest and finally coming to rest on my abdomen. “Tell

Tenderness?”

“No.”

I flinch. Though her hands