Tangled in Moonlight: Unshifted novel Chapter 237

237 Ava: Wrung Dry 

By the time we exit the training room, Vanessa and Marcus have to hold me up to walk in a straight line. < 

It isn’t the type of exhaustion where my muscles are sore and stretched and tired after running or doing a thousand squats. It’s more like the energy in my body has bled away, leaving me so weak that my muscles can no longer function properly. 

When exercising, you can kind of feel good about your exertion. The pain and exhaustion comes with a sense of accomplishment. 

This? 

It just feels like I’m a wet dish rag wrung out one too many times. 

The water’s gone, and now I’m going to float away on the next strong breeze. 

Ava! Where did you go? 

Selene’s panic is so explosive in my head that my legs buckle, even with the support of two shifters. 

Long story. Training room. Magic place. My body’s dead. Training sucks. 

Even in my head, I can only speak in short sentences. It feels fuzzy and also like something’s slamming into it with a sledgehammer, fueled by the rage of a thousand flying monkeys. 

Not sure where the flying monkeys came from, but I’m just going to go with it. 

Are you okay? she asks, and the warmth and care from her side of the bond also seems to infuse me with a little bit of extra energy. 

Her concern also makes me feel a little better. Like having a parent who’s panicked after they wake up in the middle of the night to see their child gone; someone who cares about me. I need food. And sleep, I tell her. Maybe not in that order. 

“I see you’ve re–established contact,” Magister Orion says, peering at my face. “Does it hurt to speak with your wolf?” 

My head jerks up. “What? No. Why do you ask?” 

“Ah, I’m sorry. You just looked so pained…” 

“She always looks like that,” Vanessa says, sounding amused. 

Marcus nods, despite his silence. 

“Sorry for not having years of experience, I mutter, wishing I had the strength to shove the both of them off me. 

Guards, my ass. They’re way too comfortable making fun of me for such a lowly title. 

“Hm, yes. This bond you have with your wolves is unique, indeed. If I had the time. I’d love to pick it apart. Especially you, Ava Grey, to have a wolf outside of your body, like the Lycans of old. 

And vest chefe a mere dog How interesting” 

171 

237 Ava Whung Dry 

I feel like he’s going to slice me open and look at me under a microscope, Selene says, and I can feel her internal shudder from my end of the bond. 

Vanessa must feel uncomfortable with his line of interest, because she interrupts him to ask, “Why do 

you call her by her full name? You almost always call her ‘Ava Grey, not “Ava.” 

“Oh?” Magister Orion ushers us to the dining room as we talk. “It is a bit of a custom among the Fac. We don’t have a first and last name as you humans do, you see. We do have a family name, but it isn’t a part of our identity.” 

“If it’s a family name, wouldn’t it be a part of your identity?” I ask with a frown, as Vanessa and Marcus help settle me into a chair. With a wave of his hand, Magister Orion manifests into creation several plates of steaming hot food. 

Soup, salad, and a lot of different cuts of meat. I’ve learned since coming here that Fac food doesn’t always have a particular corresponding animal to the ones we are used to in our world; for example, their steaks might be from a giant carnivorous beast that they hunt, or an herbivore similar to a cow. Some of them are even from aquatic mammals. 

They’re all delicious and–most importantly–have no magic in them whatsoever. 

Magister Orion seemed horrified at the possibility when I brought it up, but I haven’t told him the entire story of Sister Miriam and the Fac food. I’m still not certain on the allegiances of people in this city, and I’m hesitant to get Sister Miriam in trouble for possibly going outside of some sort of law against tampering with Fae food. 

Vanessa fills my plate with food without being asked, and I give her a smile when she catches my eye. Everything on the table is food I’ve had before and enjoyed; I’m not blind to the kindness. 

that Magister Orion is showing me. 

He realizes how exhausted I am.. 

As she slides several meat slices and various vegetables onto my plate, Magister Orion finally responds to my question. “Your identity is not defined by your family. Even when one is disowned, they remain true to their own sense of self, do they not?” 

A stab of pain shoots through my heart, interrupting its normal rhythm for a moment. There’s no way he’s talking about my family dynamics, but I still feel like I’ve been put on display for a moment, a spotlight aimed right at all my pain and trauma. 

But his question makes sense. 

“Our sense of self is not tied to our family, I murmur, feeling my heart clench a little. 

The memory of my mother as I last saw her flashes through my mind, reminding me that there’s a lot in my head and heart waiting to be processed. I shove it back, far back, and lock that door tightly closed. 

I’m not ready for that. Not sure if I ever will be.