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,

for the likes of you. You’ll be

a struggle to maintain my composure, to keep the bitter

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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Ava: Sister Miriam

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

mind,

Lisa. We’ll run far away from the suffocating confines of

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 authority that sends shivers through

eyes are a dark, glittering red and her hair is black without the faintest sheen of color in its highlights,

she greets the stranger. “What an honor to have

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Ava: Sistor Miriam

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

over my skin. It’s hard to

hackles, they’d

that’s dangerous even to wolves. I

she

her cultured voice a little tense. She’s affected, too. “Alpha

probing stare. I don’t know what she can do that a pregnancy

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

side, meeting my eyes

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Ava: Sister Miriam (1)

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

sweet in a way that should be soothing,

she turns to look at me. I shiver at the touch, something inside me protesting the close contact. It’s

eyes.

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

Tenderness?”

“No.”

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