Tangled

76 Ava: Saved

Lucas‘ scent hits me after I’ve already tried to murder him.

An unmistakable blend of the outdoors, of amber and

campfire smoke, of something so uniquely mate that it draws me in even through the pain of our past.

It’s him. He’s here.

The knife clatters from my trembling hand as every muscle in my body goes lax with relief. I’d been so tense, coiled tight like a spring ready to snap, terrified of losing my life tonight. But now Lucas is here.

He came for me.

“Lucas,” I breathe out, hope and prayer all in one, the sound barely more than a whisper. My entire body crumples, overworked in its stress.

He’s really here. I’m not dreaming. He’s not a

hallucination. This is real. Real.

My mate.

My savior.

10:07

76 Ava: Saved Sᴇaʀ*ᴄh the ꜰindNʘvel.ɴet website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

Strong arms wrap around me, drawing me in against an embrace both hard and warm, filled with assurance

and yearning. His hands hold me as if I’m some tender, precious thing, going from my back, up to the back of my head, brushing gently against my hair. He’s dropping kisses over the top of my head, against my eyebrows, then my eyes, whispering my name in a ragged chant before crushing me to him once again.

“Ava. Ava. Sweet Ava. You’re safe now. Shh, it’s okay. I’ve got you, Ava. You’re safe now.” His voice rumbles, vibrating his chest against my cheek. One hand cradles my head, the other runs soothing lines down my back.”

I want to respond. I want to ask him why he’s here. To thank him for coming. To tell him how terrified I was. To explain everything. But only a choked sob comes out as all the emotions of the last few days takes over, gripping my body in a cold–fingered grip of horror and

distress.

Tears pour down my face, soaking into the fabric of his shirt as I cling to him, as if letting him go means I can never see freedom again.

sweetheart. Let it out. I’m

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we need to move,” a

behind

head firmly against his chest, rubbing me in that soothing rhythm as I try

bring with you?” Lucas asks, and I shake my head.

Nothing.

nothing here worth

going to carry you, Ava. We need to go fast, before

a short, choppy movement of my head, blowing out a shuddering

Another breath out.

sliding one under my legs and lifting me as though I weigh no

exhausted to feign modesty, or worry if I’m too heavy. I just lean against him, trying to breathe in a way that

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shoulder,

about the past–his rejection, my complicated feelings for Clayton, or the tangled web that brought me here. I just want to be a boneless lump in Lucas‘ arms, soaking

and I jerk slightly in his hold.

my voice. “I think there’s a tracker

the shifters accompanying us. Without

a small canister and sprays me down with a fine mist. The scent is earthy and familiar, very neutral–seeming. “This will help conceal your scent for a while,” he explains, before handing me a small pill. “And swallow this.

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you by scent.”

team implicitly. The pill leaves a bitter taste in

had so much suspicion when Clayton came to my rescue, but with Lucas–despite our history–I can feel so

crazy like that,

at a clipped pace. Lucas leads the way, his strides purposeful and determined,

shadows as we

the darkness broken only by the occasional beam of moonlight filtering through the canopy above. The humid summer air is heavy with the scent of earth and foliage.

single one of them,

diffusers

15:08 — .‘

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the trees and underbrush. Lucas never falters, his grip on me secure and unwavering. I press my face against his chest, focusing on the steady rhythm of his heartbeat

should probably tell him I can walk, but my entire body protests

much distance as possible between us and the Blackwood territory. The only sounds are their controlled breathing and the whisper

like hours. Lucas‘ breathing has never faltered,

there, you’ll be taken straight to Westwood. I have to stay here-” there’s agony on his face as he says this, a spasm in his

to understand that this is