Tangled in Moonlight: Unshifted novel Chapter 369

We’re about to call it quits and find a spot to camp when something pings the edge of my magical radar.

Of course, I want to go straight there and purify it. But we still have to put up the tent, start a fire, and make dinner, and it’s over a mile away.

It’s one thing to make myself suffer; it’s another to force the others to set up camp in the dark because I want to push our timeline.

The sled slows to a gradual stop, runners creaking against packed snow. That pulse of dark energy beckons, but the practical part of my brain overrides it. Night comes early, and I can always get to it in the morning.

Wiggling out from under the mass of blankets keeping me warm during our run—which has spanned a much larger area than we normally would, with how little corruption we’ve run into—I grab the flat pack I’d been sitting on for hours.

Vanessa’s already unhooked the wolves from the sled, and they shift right there in the snow.

The pack had been wedged beneath me during the ride, keeping their spare clothes from freezing solid. A simple solution, but effective. My body heat combined with the magic flowing through me meant the clothes would be wearable, if not exactly toasty.

"The taint feels different." I stretch my legs, stiff from hours of sitting. "More concentrated."

"All the more reason to rest and prepare properly." Vanessa throws sets of thermal gear at the naked shifters, who get dressed with a speed I cannot replicate. "We don’t need you collapsing from exhaustion again."

"I didn’t do anything today," I protest. Which is true. Aside from clearing up a few mini clouds we’ve run into, I’ve just enjoyed a long-ass ride behind four wolves who’ve broken trail all day.

They’re the ones she should worry about.

But they just shimmy into their clothes, acting as if they’ve done little more than go for a brisk evening jog.

Our breaths puff white in the gathering dusk. No one complains about the cold—we’re all too focused on getting camp set up before full dark.

Marcus and Greg make quick work of clearing a large rectangular space, laying two tarps across the packed snow. Their efficiency speaks of years of experience; I’m still working on what everything is that’s been packed into our sled.

The rest of us work together to unload, but I’m more of a hindrance than a help.

"Stand back." Marcus pulls a long bag from the sled.

The tent goes up in minutes, poles snapping into place with satisfying clicks. With all of them working together, it looks effortless.

I duck inside to help with the wood stove, fitting the pieces together while Marcus tosses sleeping bags onto the ground behind me.

"Where’s everyone else?" The tent feels empty, and the break from the wind is heavenly.

"Gathering wood and hunting." Marcus peers out the tent flap. "Speaking of which—can you sense prey with your magic? Might make tracking easier."

"No, nothing like that." I secure the last piece of the stove. "My magic’s not that sensitive. I can sense corruption and dark energy, and sometimes people—especially if I’m attuned to them—but regular animals are beyond me."

It is possible, Grimoire’s voice echoes in my mind. But you’re nowhere near ready for that level of expertise.

A quick mental check reveals Selene’s absence. Where are you?

Hunting, comes her reply.

Greg returns with an armload of kindling and several larger pieces of wood, perfect for starting the fire. He deposits them near the stove and disappears back into the growing darkness without a word. _{freewёbnoνel.com}