Tangled in Moonlight: Unshifted novel Chapter 405

LUCAS

"Too many strange things are happening," my beta mutters, watching our latest group of scouts head off after their report.

"It’s unnerving." Vester raps his knuckles against the map in front of us. "Five missing scouts. Ryder’s missing in action. There’s been no news from Jericho’s side in a week. The Aspen scout massacre. Ivy…"

"Something’s happening. We need to figure it out."

My fingers rake through my hair as exhaustion settles deep in my bones. The map is little more than a blur in front of my unfocused eyes; I need more sleep. But I don’t have time for that.

"We need more teams in these sectors." Vester points to the eastern quadrant. "Three of them went missing somewhere here."

"Three teams of four." Kellan traces a path with his finger. "If we space them out—"

A sharp electronic trill cuts through the air. We all jump, the foreign sound of a ringtone jarring after months of silence. Kellan pulls his phone from his pocket.

"It’s Rowan." He taps the speaker button. "Beta Goldstein."

"Beta Ashbourne." Rowan’s calm voice fills the tent. "I received your message about Ivy."

"Alpha Shadowpine is not available?"

"Alpha Shadowpine is investigating unusual rogue activity in our territory. He should return tonight to speak with you directly."

The muscles in my jaw tighten. More rogues. More problems. It isn’t just us. We’re all in danger, but working blind. "Beta Goldstein, Ivy’s condition remains uncertain. Our Luna and best healers are working to determine the cause."

"I see. That’s unfortunate." The calm in the beta’s voice is betrayed by the slight crack in it.

It’s tempting to keep more information to myself. After all, we have no proof of anything. Only wild theories. But Clayton—and his pack—are our allies. They deserve nothing less than transparency. "We suspect magical involvement."

No apology follows my words. It isn’t the time to say, "I’m sorry your pack members have suffered such tragedies under our protection." That conversation belongs between alphas, not their seconds. The politics of our world demand certain protocols, even in times of crisis.

"I understand." Rowan’s tone stays measured, diplomatic. "Please take care of her. The Aspen Pack places its trust in your judgment."

"Beta Goldstein," Kellan says, as I motion for him to take over, "We still have no leads on your lost wolves, but we’re still searching."

"We appreciate it. Thank you for your efforts."

"There’s something else." Rowan’s voice drops lower. "We’ve had several casualties from feral rogues in our territory. They’re not acting normal. Much like the issues you’ve reported happening there."

My fingers press against the map, leaving indents in the paper. It sounds like this taint has spread farther than we realized. "Define not normal."

"They’re attacking without provocation, without pattern. No interest in territory or resources. It’s pure aggression. We are doing our best to keep it contained." A pause. "But that’s not the strangest thing to happen this week."

Kellan and Vester exchange glances. My wolf stirs, sensing the weight in Rowan’s words. Aurum has been silent of late. Sleeping, like a hibernating bear.

"Earlier today, we received a visit from what appeared to be Fae representatives. They’re searching for someone." The staticky words are hesitant. Cautious. "The description matches your Luna."

Ice floods my veins. Aurum’s hackles raise as he growls in the back of my head. "What exactly did they want?"

"They weren’t specific. They requested a meeting with Alpha Shadowpine tomorrow. We’re not certain of their intentions."

The urge to destroy something rises in my chest. The mere thought of anyone hunting Ava sets my teeth on edge. But I can’t let that show. Not now. "Did they identify themselves?"

"No. They maintained anonymity. All wore cloaks." Rowan’s voice carries a note of unease. "Though one detail stood out—their leader. Extraordinarily large, even by our standards."

"Names?"

"None given. Clayton will attend the meeting, but..." Rowan trails off.

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