Tangled in Moonlight: Unshifted-Chapter 412: Ava: No Plan At All

Running away from a mysterious wolf made of shadows and dark magic is probably not the most brilliant plan I've ever come up with.

Especially when my own wolf can't keep up. And I have no idea how far I should run. Too far and I risk more participants in this deadly chase. Not far enough, and my desperate ploy might be for naught if it turns back around after eating me.

Not a pleasant thought, but the reality is that I have no fucking clue how to fight this thing.

Have we confirmed it's Ivy's wolf? I blast the thought at Selene; talking is impossible right now. Running is the priority.

I swear I can feel the creature's breath on the back of my neck, but it's at least a hundred yards behind me. My magic can sense it; it's like eyes in the back of my head. Almost. Kind of.

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Likely. We can't find Ivy.

Okay, it was a long shot to hope that this wasn't Ivy's wolf, but my heart still sinks—through all the pounding—to hear the confirmation.

Her wolf seems to be corrupted in some way, but Ivy isn't. I can't just blast her to smithereens (assuming I figure out how). I might not like her, but I know she'd never approve of hurting any of us.

Her wolf might be the reason her friends are dead.

Grimoire's observation sounds almost absent-minded. He's a little preoccupied with being the brains of this operation; someone has to be, and I'm too busy trying to stay alive.

That's a terrifying prospect. One my mind automatically shies away from. I don't have the luxury of dwelling on such a horrifying possibility. If Ivy's wolf murdered her entire entourage…

My foot catches on something—a root, a rock, who knows—and the world tilts. The ground rushes up to meet my face, but training kicks in. I tuck my shoulder, roll, and spring back to my feet in one fluid motion.

"Fuck." My lungs burn. Magic might enhance my body, but it isn't perfect, and I'm not calm. My fear and panic leave my control lacking.

Focus, damn it.

Dwelling on Ivy won't help me survive this. I need a plan. A real one. Not this half-assed 'run until something better occurs to me' strategy.

Any ideas yet? I direct the thought at both Grimoire and Selene.

Physical attacks don't work. The shadow-wolf is exactly that—shadow and darkness given form. Teeth, claws, it doesn't matter. There's no substance.

Unless she wants to attack. Then my pack's blood spills.

Not yet, Grimoire admits. I'm running through different wards we can try to contain her, but I don't think we have the time to make anything usable.

Fuck. Not the answer I wanted to hear.

I've long since passed any usable trail, but my feet fly over the crusted-over snow instead of sinking in thanks to spreading my magic around my feet like invisible snowshoes.

If it wasn't for that bit of quick thinking the first time my feet sunk into a pile of snow, Ivy's wolf would have caught up to me a couple miles back.

Damn it. How far are we now? It feels like I've been running for hours, but it's probably only been ten minutes.

A howl sounds behind me; it's closer than I thought. Too close. My heart thuds harshly against my ribs.

My legs quiver. I've run faster and longer before, but not with this level of panic in my head.

Lucas was there. And his wolves. And I was free and safe.

Now? I'm running and scared.

My body—my magic—knows the difference.

I didn't train enough under duress. Somehow, I'm going to have to fix that. Later. If I survive this.

Light, Selene suggests. Shadows can't exist in pure light, right?

Grimoire makes a weird sound in the back of my head. The sun is out.

Oh. Never mind, then.

At least they're not arguing.

She's gaining on us, Grimoire says. He sounds tense, his mental voice clipped and hard. And Selene is a five-minute run behind us.

Kellan and the others are here, too, she reports.

That doesn't surprise me. None of them would have just stood around while I ran away with danger at my heels.

They're all going to be so fucking pissed. You know, if we all survive.

Stop saying if. We will survive.

Grimoire's stern lecture would have more effect if he didn't sound so goddamn concerned.

You've lived for hundreds of years, right? Selene snaps. Why can't you figure out a damn plan, then?

Living a long life doesn't mean I have every answer at hand. I have ideas, but they all require time we don't have. We need to seal the wolf and force Ivy's consciousness to take over, but Ava can't create a sealing ward in less than ten, maybe twelve minutes.

Damn.

And you still can't reach Lucas? I ask Selene, almost tripping over something again. My ankle twinges.

Lucas won't have the same effectiveness as Clayton, Ivy's alpha. But he's still an alpha and could at least try to force a shift on Ivy. Not sure if it would work, but at least it would be an option.

No. But…

But?

Selene is silent for a breath. Two.

We can try. I'm strong enough. But I'm too far away. You'd have to hold on until I reach you.

Fuck. If all I needed to do was have Selene overpower Ivy's stupid wolf, all this running was an overly dramatic, unnecessary plan.

A forced shift is not the same as a sealed soul, Grimoire cautions. I'm not sure your friend is in a state where a forced shift would be possible. She was not conscious.

Son of a bitch. So it won't work?

Maybe. You have about three seconds before she catches up to you, though.

Fuck.

My feet slide across the snow as I veer left, my magic the only thing keeping me from face-planting into the nearest tree. Selene, get here now!

Daring a quick glance behind me leaves me with regret. It's an eerie sight.

The shadow wolf's massive form phases through branches and brush like they don't exist. No sound accompanies its pursuit—no crunch of snow, no snap of twigs, no rustle of leaves. Just darkness shaped into a wolf.

My boots catch on solid ground. I pivot, snow spraying up around me.

No time to think. No time to plan.

I squeeze my eyes shut and reach for my magic. The power surges through my veins, hot and electric, eager to be of use. White-hot bursts of pure light explode from my hands, one after another after another. Even behind my closed eyelids, it's bright.

Between bursts of solar-level light bombs I've somehow conjured out of nowhere and the vaguest idea in my head, I dive. Left. Left. Back. This time to the right.

By some miracle, I don't hit a tree or bush, and no shadow mouth bites my head from my shoulders.

After a few more bursts of light, I pause. The sense of wrongness that is the shadow wolf hasn't moved.

Did it work? Grimoire asks, sounding surprised.

I keep my eyes closed, afraid to look. Afraid to see if I failed. I don't know.

Open your eyes, Ava.

My heart pounds against my ribs. Sweat freezes on my skin despite the magic warming me from within. I force my eyes open, ready to throw more light if needed.

The shadow wolf stands frozen mid-stride, tendrils of darkness writhing around it like panicked little smoke tentacles.

Her head snaps back and forth, as if searching for something it lost. I'm suddenly afraid to even breathe. Can shadows hear? Or is it still all wolf?

It can't see, Grimoire says. At least, I don't think it can.

Relief floods through me, but I don't dare move. One wrong step and this temporary advantage disappears.

Keep going, Selene urges. We're almost there.

My magic pools in my palms, ready to unleash another barrage of light, but the shadow wolf's head whips toward me. Those unnatural green eyes lock onto mine—Ivy's eyes, but wrong. So wrong. The familiar forest green has turned acidic, toxic. No warmth exists in that gaze.

My breath catches in my throat. The magic in my hands flickers, destabilizing as my concentration wavers.

I think she can see, I whisper in my head.

Dodge, you idiot!