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.

by birth, I would

title of Luna is not for the likes of you. You’ll

maintain my composure, to keep the bitter

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

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Sister Miriam (1)

you will bear his children. That is the extent

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

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

unsettling gleam in her eyes enters the room. She exudes an aura of authority that sends shivers

but she isn’t human, either. Her eyes are a dark, glittering red and her hair is black without the

greets the stranger. “What an

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Ava: Sistor Miriam (1)

Miriam inclines her head, a faint smile playing on her lips. They’re pale and thin. “The honor is mine, Grace. Alpha Renard requested

unease over my skin. It’s hard to hold her

had hackles,

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

she

affected, too. “Alpha Renard said you would be able to see

I avert my gaze, suddenly unable to meet Sister Miriam’s probing stare. I don’t

murmurs, her footsteps soft as she approaches. “I am the most skilled in detecting the earliest signs of breeding. The alpha

stops by my side, meeting my eyes again

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Sister

white. It looks unnatural on her

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

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

eyes.

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.”

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