Tangled in Moonlight: Unshifted novel Chapter 2
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
My hands tremble as I turn the key again. The engine sputters, coughs. Please. Please start. I can't die here. Not like this.
Another turn. A whine. A sputter.
The wolf steps out from the tree line, massive and menacing. Its fur blends with the night, a specter of death and torment.
I can't make out any distinguishing features in the darkness. No way to know which of my abusers has come for me tonight.
The engine roars to life. Thank God.
I slam my foot on the accelerator, tires screeching against pavement as I peel off down the road. My heart hammers against my ribs, blood rushing in my ears.
In the rearview mirror, I can see the wolf chasing me. Keeping pace with my car as I navigate the winding roads.
He howls, a promise of pain.
It's all a familiar, sick game. I hate it. I never know when it's coming; when someone's bored enough to begin.
It never ends well though. Not for me.
The streets of my neighborhood come into view. Mom and Dad won't save me, even if I'm being slaughtered in the front yard—but if I can make it inside, that's a different story.
No one disrespects the beta's home.
I whip into an awful parallel parking job, the car jerking to a stop. My hands shake as I fumble for my keys, dropping them twice before I manage to grab them.
I just need to get inside.
Throwing open the car door, I stagger out on trembling legs. The keys jangle in my grip as I stumble towards the front door.
Almost there. Almost—
I can smell wet fur. And rage.
I spin around, keys clenched between white knuckles. My heart stops.
The wolf stands mere feet away, lips curled back in a snarl. Saliva drips from dagger-like fangs. His russet fur tells me everything I need to know about his identity.
Todd.
He loves to torment me and always has.
But he just watches as I grab the door from behind my back, turn, and rush inside.
Tonight is a reprieve; I'll take it.
Locking the door behind me, I take a moment to lament the damage to my car. I have no idea how much it will cost to repair my cracked windshield; it'll eat into the savings I've been painstakingly gathering.
Damn it.
"Ava. Come here."
Ugh. Straightening my shoulders, I walk toward my parents, worried butterflies floating around in my stomach.
Dad, of course, says nothing about the wolf outside. He doesn't give a shit. He knows exactly what they do to me; as long as it isn't in his eyesight, where he has to deal with it, he won't say a word.
Dad is seated in his favorite armchair, his expression stoic as always. Mom stands behind him, her disapproving stare leveled over my shoulder. I can't remember the last time we had eye contact outside of being dressed down.
My hands tingle with shock, and cold breezes straight through my limbs, shoving past all that anxiety to settle straight into my brain. What?
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