Tangled in Moonlight: Unshifted novel Chapter 265

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265 Ava: The Receptionist 

265 Ava: The Receptionist 

It isn’t until we’re walking that I realize still I don’t hear Selene in my head. Her presence hasn’t filled its 

space. 

I was so focused on Lucas that I forgot my own damn wolf. That’s terrifying, in a way. 

“Didn’t you say Selene’s here?” 

“She was.” He glances at me in the dim moonlight. “She’s been coming and going a lot. Can’t you talk to her?” He appears confused; I guess no one’s 

specifically told him that Selene and I can’t contact each other over long distances. 

“No.” 

“Oh.” He’s quiet as he processes that. “So you just… can’t talk to your wolf?” 

I shrug. “She’s her own person. I guess it’s because she isn’t in my body.” 

Kellan makes an odd sort of noise in his throat. I glance at him in concern. “Are you okay?” 

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he says, shaking his head. “Your bond 

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with Selene is just strange. Communication isn’t equal among wolves–some can have full conversations, some don’t–but you’re another level.” 

Ah. Yeah, it is weird. It’s become such a normal part of my life, though. “Yeah.” To me, it’s strange to think 

someone has a wolf and can’t talk to them. 

“How did you know to come here if you don’t speak 

with Selene?” Kellan asks. 

The golden stranger’s strange friendliness and otherworldly presence flash through my mind. I open my mouth, ready to explain about Acarus again, figuring he’d forgotten the brief conversation from 

earlier. 

Westwood might have a traitor. 

The realization hits me like a sudden downpour, and I snap my mouth shut. We don’t know who it is or if they’re still here in this compound. Every word we say can potentially reach the wrong ears. My throat tightens. 

“I’ll explain later,” I say instead, putting heavy emphasis on the last word. I meet Kellan’s eyes, willing him to understand the unspoken message. 

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His eyebrows raise slightly, but then understanding dawns on his face. He faces forward, but I can still see 

the hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. 

“Smart idea.” 

My mind races, cataloging every interaction, every face I’ve seen since arriving. Which is only about six of 

them. 

Who could the traitor be? 

The thought that someone close to Lucas is working against him… 

My stomach churns. 

*** 

Kellan leads me to a simple building. It’s a long building with blacked out windows, looking desolate in the dark of night. 

Gleaming tiles catch me off guard as we step inside. It’s like walking into another world–sterile, bright, and utterly unlike the unassuming ranch house exterior. 

It’s a modern hospital. 

The contrast is jarring, and I find myself blinking 

ranidly trying to adjust to the sudden change. 

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A dimly lit hallway stretches to the side, with several doors, all closed. The familiar smell of antiseptic has my nose twitching. 

The front desk, in contrast, is brightly lit. A pair of double doors marked ‘Staff Only‘ stand beyond it, showing the faint shadowy outline of people as they walk past. Even this late at night, it’s good to know there are people around to take care of the patients, just like any other hospital. 

“Is this a real hospital?” I ask Kellan in a hushed whisper. 

“Yes. It’s been here for a long time.” He taps at my shoulder, nudging me to follow him to the front desk. 

A human woman in crisp blue scrubs sits, her fingers flying over a keyboard. She looks up as we approach, a warm smile spreading across her face. “Beta 

Ashbourne,” she greets Kellan, her voice syrupy sweet. “Alpha is sleeping at the moment. Is there something I can help you with?” 

Kellan’s hand settles on my lower back, guiding me forward. “Actually, yes. I’ve brought his mate to see him.” 

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The receptionist’s eyes flick to me, and in an instant, her demeanor changes. The warmth vanishes, replaced by a cool professionalism that borders on frigid. “I see,” she says, her tone clipped. “I’m afraid visiting hours are over for the day.” 

My heart sinks. Lucas is so close and yet still out of reach. I want to scream, to demand entry, to use whatever authority being his mate grants me, but I hold myself back. 

That would be unethical. Rude. Terrible. 

Even if it sounds pretty good right now. 

“But she’s his mate,” Kellan argues, his brow furrowing. “Surely an exception can be made?” 

The receptionist’s lips thin into a tight line. “I’m sorry, but the rule applies to all patients, regardless of rank or relation. It’s for their well–being and recovery.” 

The fight drains out of me. If what Kellan says is right- if he’s lost his memories–seeing me as his mate might agitate him. Besides, if I throw my weight around here, it’ll only reinforce the idea that I’m some entitled outsider, throwing my weight around. 

Vallan munt