Tangled in Moonlight: Unshifted novel Chapter 403

Buoyed by my mate’s support, though dreading what Ivy’s situation might mean—for her and for all of us—I scurry through the packed trails of camp, unsurprised as fresh snow flutters through the sky. It feels like we snow more days than not.

Find out anything yet? I reach out to Grimoire, who’s been silent. I can sense Selene watching, but have no idea what he’s doing. Sometimes I wish I could just pull his expertise into my head so I don’t have to take the long route of actually learning how to do things myself.

Don’t be lazy, he chides.

Okay, but did you discover anything yet?

He’s silent, leaving my brain to itch as I wait for his response. Finally, he does.

No.

Helpful.

Don’t blame me. I’m limited in my abilities until you get here.

"I’m not blaming you," I grumble, almost slipping over a patch of re-freeze. The temperature’s plummeted, more than I’d think it would. The sky isn’t even fully grayed out.

My magic wriggles in my belly, and I realize I’ve covered myself in a light layer of warmth without thinking twice.

Like autopilot, but the magical version.

Nice.

Stop being impressed with yourself and hurry up.

"I am, I am." Picking up the pace, I notice a small group of wolves headed toward the debriefing tent. My connection with the pack is not as defined as it should be, but I can vaguely sense that they’re Westwood wolves. Must be a scout party coming in.

Hopefully they come with good news. We could use some.

You’re slowing down again.

Selene’s gentle nudge kicks me into a light jog.

The hospital lodge smells of antiseptic and bleach, a stark contrast to the crisp winter air outside. My boots squeak against the freshly mopped floor as I enter, and I wave at the receptionist—someone I’ve seen several times, yet still can’t remember her name. She nods back, professional and distant.

"Luna," she murmurs as I pass.

"Looks like it’s pretty quiet today."

Her eyes widen. "Luna, you can’t use that word. You know it’s bad luck."

Oops. "Sorry—" I surreptitiously peek at her little badge "—Tanya."

She reaches over to knock on the wooden frame of her desk. "Better safe than sorry."

Flashing an apologetic grin, I head down the hall to Ivy’s room.

A solid mass crashes into my shoulder, throwing me off balance. My hand flies to the wall to steady myself as a man in dark clothing stumbles back.

"Sorry," he mumbles, voice rough and low. He keeps his face angled down, dark hair falling forward to obscure his features. His shoulders hunch as he hurries past me, footsteps quick and deliberate.

I turn to watch him go, unease prickling at the base of my neck. There’s something about his posture, his hurried exit—

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