Tangled

85 Ava: Lucas Visits

Lucas strides into the room from behind the wearied

nurse. His presence is much as I remember–like a lion surveying his territory, confident in his domination over everything in his sight.

This is the Alpha.

Even after everything that’s happened, the sight of him still sends a ripple of attraction and unease through me, a reminder of our complicated history.

But this time, there’s a huge part of me that wants to dash over and lift my head, baring my neck to him. To roll and rub against him with whimpers of submission.

I shove that part deep into a dark hole inside of me and close the fucking door.

Lucas moves with such fluid grace, despite his

towering height–he’s at least six–three, rivaling Alpha Renard’s imposing ability to loom.

His hair is tousled, falling into a loose mess around his face and shoulders, and judging by the dark circles beneath his amber eyes, he’s been up all night.

85 Ava: Lucas Visits Sᴇaʀ*ᴄh the (F)indNƟvᴇl.ɴet website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

And speaking of his eyes…

I try to avoid them, but it’s like there’s a force that pulls me into his gaze. It’s different from any time before. At the Gala, they’d burned with desire and curiosity. In Cedarwood, there was always an aching longing in their depths. Today?

They’re intense, smoldering with rage that wars with relief. His jaw is clenched, his face set in a way that I’d have expected him to be a grim reaper instead of a visitor. But his brow settles out of its deep furrow and relaxes a little when he sees me, and the wrinkles

around his eyes relax.

As he approaches my bedside, I can’t help but lean toward him, into the scent of campfire smoke and something smooth and sensual beneath. A dizzying fragrance that has my heart yearning toward him. It should be comforting, but it sets me on edge as I try to pull myself back, waking myself from the brief

intoxication with the man that the fates have deigned

to mate me to.

with him anymore. I guess

wiped from the world’s history

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Lucas Visits

book.

too busy staring at me to talk.

to my bed. His gaze lingers on the bandages on my face and neck, before sliding down to my abdomen. His fingers twitch, and he links his hands in his lap.

I know he’s fighting his urge to reach

It’s… cute.

don’t move around, I don’t hurt too much.

the tiny stool. “Ellison’s

years that he’s actually good at what he’s supposed to do. I figured

He won’t bother you again.”

not sure how to respond. Even if he’s taken care of, there will

think they can

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of so easily.

blanket is soft between my fingers, easy to twist. I can’t meet Lucas‘

one of his hands dwarfing both of mine, quelling the anxious tugging of fabric. “I’ll always come for you,

beneath the warmth of

of the reasons I wasn’t angry when

memories.

side of my face, and I shift uncomfortably beneath the weight of his

one of my hands away from his and bring it up to touch my hair, which must look terrible after everything I’ve

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Ava: Lucas

like that. I must look terrible.”

a shiver down

his amber eyes

at the

real smile is always seen in the

angles of his face, the way his dark hair falls in tousled waves around those high cheekbones. Even bruised

with Clayton–but I shove that guilt down, not ready to deal with those thoughts