Tangled in Moonlight: Unshifted

Vester magically catches up to me before I even leave Wolf's Landing, rounding out my posse of bodyguards.

"Lucas really needs to stop sending you out so much," I tell him with a frown. "Vanessa needs you around more."

Vester's laugh cuts through the crisp winter air—a deep, rolling sound. Coming from him, it's unfamiliar and out of place. Vester isn't really a laugh-out-loud kind of guy, at least around me.

He chuckles, or smirks, or smiles, but I don't think I've ever heard him belly laugh like this before.

"You must not know my wife very well," he says, slowing his pace to match mine. "Vanessa's a control freak."

"What? Vanessa?"

We pick up our pace, settling into a slow, steady jog toward the perimeter breach. My bodyguards mostly follow behind, but two range ahead by about fifteen feet.

Cold air stabs into my lungs with every inhale, but it's nice to be out like this again. Would be better if I wasn't mildly stressed about what I might find at the other end of this alert, though.

"So, what do you mean by control freak?" I ask, genuinely surprised. Vanessa always struck me as the calm, collected center of any storm.

Vester huffs, not even winded. "She's always complaining my help makes her work twice as hard."

His words sound suspiciously like a cop-out so he doesn't have to do chores. "I don't believe you."

"Every time I do the dishes," he says, jumping over a fallen branch without breaking stride, "she washes them again because she doesn't think they're clean enough."

My eyebrows shoot up. I'm unable to clear the log with his wolf-like grace, so I scramble over it like a three-legged deer instead. "You're kidding."

"Or when I fold the laundry, it isn't neat enough." His voice carries no bitterness, only fond exasperation. "I try, and try, but she keeps taking over."

The snow crunches beneath our boots, and I notice how Vester keeps scanning our surroundings even as he talks about Vanessa. Always on alert, even when relaxed.

"Maybe you should give her a direct order," he suggests, flashing me a smile full of mischief. "As Luna. Tell her to let me do the chores without complaining for the next year."

I nearly choke on a laugh. "I'm sorry, but I think that's above my pay grade."

His answering laugh echoes through the trees. For a moment, it feels almost normal—as if we're just friends out for a morning jog. I spend most of my time with Kellan, so it's nice to my relationship with Vester has progressed, too. I don't think he liked me very much at first.

After a while of running, the burning in my legs starts. Maybe I should have warmed up before rushing out of the house.

"How—" I puff out between breaths, "how pissed was Lucas that I'm going to—" puff, puff, "check on the—" wheeze, "breach?"

Vester gives me a sideways glance, his expression somewhere between amused and sympathetic.

"The only reason Lucas isn't with you right now is because the Aspen Alpha offered to come along. So now Lucas is dealing with Clayton instead to keep him away from you."

He gets it all out easily, like he isn't running. His lung capacity is amazing.

"Really?"

"Can you blame him?" Vester asks, not slowing his pace even as he watches me for signs of fatigue.

"No," I answer shortly, but if I had the breath I'd probably say something like, "You'd think he'd know by now I have no feelings for Clayton." Still, I get it. It isn't like I didn't get irked every time I saw Ivy, either.

Shit. Ivy.

I've avoided thinking about her all morning, but now I'm wondering how Clayton's doing with her gone. Guilt stabs me in the side of my ribs—or maybe it's my lungs.

I'm in better shape than this, damn it. I shouldn't already be out of breath and side-stitched.

Your breathing has been off from the start, and you haven't stretched your body properly in days. If you'd run properly and breathe right, you wouldn't be having this problem.

Selene's backseat coaching helps not at all, coming so late in the game.

"Thanks," I mutter sarcastically.

My breath clouds in front of my face, and my legs settle into an easier, more familiar rhythm once I think about it.

Vester slows his pace even more, though, giving me a little chance to breathe. After a couple minutes my lungs are still dying, but I'm also able to fill my lungs better than I was before.

My pace slows as we approach what should be our northern ward line. The invisible boundary should tickle against my magic, but all I feel is a strange emptiness—like stepping into a room where someone's removed all the furniture.

My bodyguards fan out in practiced formation without my saying a word. Vester motions for me to stay back, but I step closer anyway, my eyes scanning the snow. There are tracks and disturbed snow everywhere.

As someone who can't track to save her life, it means nothing to me except a lot of life forms have gone through this area.

The breach is obvious from a magical perspective—my wards are off, as if someone's turned off their power—but visually, nothing seems out of place.

Selene circles the area, her silver fur stark against the white landscape. Her nose works overtime, sniffing at the ground and air with increasing agitation. Suddenly, she sneezes violently, shaking her head.

So much magic here. Overwhelming. It's like walking through a perfume department.

"What kind of magic?" I ask under my breath, keeping my voice low enough that only she can hear.

Grimoire's fox form bounds in a zig-zag pattern across the snow, before returning to me. Someone used a significant amount of power here recently. I think they were trying to identify your ward.

I scan the area, feeling the back of my neck prickle. "Fae? Vampire?"

Neither.

My head snaps toward him. "What? Then what is it?"

I'm pretty sure they're human.

"Are you sure?"

Mostly.

My mind races through possibilities. Another witch? It would be nice not to be the only one, but it seems strange one would appear smack-dab in the middle of one of my security wards…

Selene's entire body suddenly goes rigid. Her nose extends forward, inching toward what appears to be empty air. She sniffs once, twice, then pokes her nose forward—and stops, as if she's hit an invisible wall.

There's something here. Something I can't see.

Mana surges to my fingertips instinctively. The bodyguards instantly tighten their circle, zeroing in on the spot where Selene's nose is still pressed against nothing.

"Show yourself," I snap, ready to throw my magic at the intruder. "Now."

Vester moves to stand slightly in front of me, his body tensed for attack, but then—

"Please don't hurt me!" A soft, feminine voice squeaks from thin air. "I promise I'm not dangerous!"

The air ripples like a mirage, and suddenly there's a woman crouched where Selene had been investigating. She has thick-rimmed black glasses perched on a freckled nose, and her mousy brown hair is pulled into two neat braids that fall over her shoulders. She looks to be in her late twenties, dressed in practical hiking gear and clutching what appears to be some sort of journal to her chest.

What strikes me most are her eyes—warm, brown, and so very human.

"Who are you?" I demand, keeping my magic ready. "How did you turn off my ward?"

"I'm sorry about that," she says, her voice trembling slightly. "I didn't mean to damage anything. I just wanted to observe without disturbing anyone."

Vester takes a menacing step forward, and she squeaks.

The woman's eyes dart between us, then back to me. "My name is Eleanor Wright. I'm a... researcher." She swallows hard. "Of paranormal phenomena."

"A researcher?" I echo, skepticism dripping from my voice. "With invisibility magic?"

Eleanor adjusts her glasses. "Well, about that…"

But she doesn't finish her sentence, just trailing off into nothing.

"About that?" Vester prods.

She scratches at her cheek and looks at the ground. "I just—well… You see…"

Selene circles the strange woman like a shark, her hackles raised and a low growl rumbling in her throat. I can feel the intensity of her suspicion radiating through our bond.

There's no way for her to escape at this point, surrounded as she is by shifters. But she doesn't even look around, apparently unconcerned with the danger she's in.

Instead, Eleanor leans to the side, as if Vester's in her way, her eyes wide behind her thick glasses. When her gaze meets mine, I'm struck by the mix of fear and awe shimmering in their brown depths.

"By any chance… is it… I mean, are you… t-the C-Crone?" she stammers out, her voice climbing registers at an alarming rate.

I blink. "Excuse me?"