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.

I wasn’t positive I were her child by birth, I would definitely

for the likes

a struggle to maintain my composure, to keep the bitter resentment from showing on my

mirror so I’m forced to meet her gaze. She’s almost manic in her

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Sister Miriam

his children. That is the extent of your purpose.”

on strings. My mind, however, is already

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 of this stupid pack and their twisted expectations.

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

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

Miriam,” she greets the stranger. “What an honor to have you grace us with your

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Sistor Miriam

her lips. They’re pale and thin. “The honor is mine, Grace. Alpha Renard requested

of unease over my skin. It’s hard

had hackles, they’d

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

she is.

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

don’t know what she can do that a

detecting the earliest signs of breeding. The alpha can rest assured that

by my side, meeting my eyes again

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Sister Miriam (1)

her teeth too white. It looks unnatural on

child,” she says. Her voice is sweet in a way that should be soothing, and yet paired with her face,

me. I shiver at the touch, something inside me protesting the close contact. It’s like my skin burns. where

eyes.

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.”

I flinch. Though her hands are cold, an