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

12:40

1/7

<

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 birth, I would definitely assume I’m adopted.

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

a struggle to maintain my composure, to keep the bitter

understand?” 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

12.46

C

Ava: Sister

children.

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

the freedom to return to the Aspen pack, I’ll contact Lisa. We’ll

woman with an elegant bearing and a bright, unsettling gleam in her eyes enters

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

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

12:48

307

Ava: Sistor Miriam (1)

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

skin. It’s hard to hold

hackles, they’d

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

she is.

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

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

the

my side, meeting

12

Sister Miriam

her teeth too white. It looks unnatural on her face, as

that should be soothing, and yet paired with her face, it’s terrifying. “I will be

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

eyes.

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

Tenderness?”

“No.”

her hands are