Tangled in Moonlight: Unshifted (Ava and Lucas)

Chapter 453 - 453: Clayton: Sister CLAYTON It's good to see Lucas again.

I clasp his forearm firmly, feeling the tension ripple through his muscles as we pull each other into a one-armed hug. The solid thump of my palm against his back carries more meaning than words could express between alphas. Our history sits between us like a third presence-unspoken but undeniable.

"It's good to see you, Lucas." The words ceasily, despite everything. Despite Ivy. Despite Ava. The complicated web binding us together has never fully untangled. Sboundaries, once crossed, leave permanent markers on a relationship.

Lucas studies my face, his golden eyes searching mine. Whatever he finds there seems to satisfy him—his shoulders drop a fraction of an inch, the line of his jaw softens.

The subtle shift speaks volumes to someone who's known him as long as I have.

It's been months, and my infatuation has faded. Even my wolf is calm in my head, no longer possessive over the whiffs of her scent, prolific in this place.

I thought coming here would be tinged with a little more sadness. A little more regret. Instead, I only feel fondness as I see my friend's face.

Their bond burned bright. It seems to have only grown brighter in the tI've seen them, and the horrors their pack has endured. Their kind of connection is rare. Worth protecting.

And in today's world, allies who can be trusted without question are worth more than any territory or power. Wolf's Landing sprawls before us, a patchwork of temporary structures and permanent foundations. Not what I expected from Lucas' pack-more improvised than I thought.

Signs of recent conflict mark the landscape: construction, mainly, and the weary look on faces walking by. They're on alert, but the danger keeps wearing at them.

No matter how strong a pack is, repeated conflict will always wear down our people.

A young wolf-Wes, Lucas called him-leads my group toward the eastern edge of the settlement, and my wolves follow in silence, taking in every detail with wary eyes. None of us expected to be here under these circumstances.

Lucas and I break off from the group.

"Clayton, I" Lucas clears his throat. "I'm sorry we couldn't keep Ivy safe." The pain hits sharp and sudden, like a blade between my ribs. My sister. My responsibility. Gone.

"Death waits for all of us, one way or another." The words are bitter, but they're true. As shifters, we live with this certainty. "Spaths just end sooner than others." It doesn't mean her loss doesn't hurt. I just can't let it holddown.

Wolf's Landing smells like trees and winter. Snow is piled here, packed down over tand covering the landscape in white. It's very different from Aspen territory.

Strange how the body notices these details even when the mind is numb with grief.

"What do you know about this dream-eater?" I ask, forcing my thoughts toward practical matters. "Do you believe what Ava says-that Ivy is truly gone?" Lucas sighs, his breath creating a small cloud in the cold air. His scent shifts subtly-frustration, uncertainty, anger tightly controlled.

"In this strange world we're living in now, it only makes sense." He gestures vaguely around us. "The rules keep changing. What we thought we knew..." He doesn't finish the thought. He doesn't need to.

"I need to see it." The request-demand-comes out harsher than I mean for it to, and I haul my grief back with an iron fist. Lucas doesn't seem to mind.

"It's been in ssort of coma since Ava subdued it." Lucas' tone is measured, careful. "Not dead, but not alive in any way we understand." I nod, processing this. The concept of a creature that consumes not just flesh but essence-soul-turns my stomach. The thought of Ivy trapped inside such a thing...

Is it possible to get her back? Probably not. But the vague hope still lingers in my head.

We pass a group of Westwood wolves. Their movements pause as we walk by, eyes tracking us with a mixture of curiosity and wariness.

"How many did you lose in the attack?" I ask, noting the fresh scars on the land.

"Twenty-seven." Lucas' voice is flat. "Good wolves." The most up-to-date version is on M4VLEMP4YR.

The number hangs between us. Twenty-seven lives, twenty-seven families mourning. And Ivy. The pain threatens to rise again, but I push it down. There will be tfor that later, in private, away from eyes that watch for any sign of weakness.

"Your mate handled herself well," I say instead, careful not to use her name. I don't want to reopen wounds between us. "Taking down a creature like that." Something like pride flashes across Lucas's face, mixed with concern. "Ava is... evolving. Her power grows daily. Sometimes I think she doesn't realize how extraordinary she's becoming." An interesting choice of words. Evolving. Not learning or improving-evolving, as if she's transforming into something else entirely. I file this observation away for later consideration.

"I brought a gift for her. Well, for the both of you. From the Aspen Pack. A token of our continued alliance." Lucas raises an eyebrow, but he doesn't tense. "You didn't have to do that." "Yes," I counter, "I did. Proper respect must be shown, especially now." We both understand what goes unsaid.

Lucas smacks my back, jarringfrom my thoughts. The impact is friendly but firm-a wolf's greeting.

"There's no need for gifts between brothers."

Brothers. A simple word that carries the weight of years of friendship My lips curve into an easy grin. We've always understood each other, Lucas and I. Perhaps that's why we can move past our darker history.

The moment passes, our brief camaraderie dimming as Lucas turns onto a strange path toward a small cabin. Show has partially covered our route, as if no one walks this way anymore. His shoulders have tensed again, and my entire body stiffens. And then I catch it.

Ivy's scent.

It hits hard. It's a unique fragrance, as familiar toas my own arm. My stride falters for just a moment, my control slipping. No one but Lucas would notice, and he has the grace to pretend he doesn't.

My eyes burn with a heat that demands release, but no tears come. Perhaps I've forgotten how. Or perhaps the alpha inrefuses to show that particular weakness, even now.

Lucas mounts the steps, producing a key as he unlocks the door, before pushing it open. A faint, floral scent mixes with stale air, but most of all I can smell my sister.

"This is where Ivy stayed," Lucas says, stepping aside to letenter first.

I hesitate at the threshold. I want to e see her space, to be surrounded by the remnants of her presence. I also want to run to deny that any of this is happening. To reject the reality that my sister-vibrant, stubborn, alive Ivy-is gone. But alphas don't run. Not from pain. Not from truth.

I step inside.