Tangled in Moonlight: Unshifted - Chapter 15

Chapter 15: Ava: Dreamless
Chapters 11-17 have been rewritten to improve story flow and pacing. [June 27, 2024]

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As I pet Selene, I realize she hasn’t shown much interest in the boxes scattered around the apartment. Most dogs would be all over them, sniffing and investigating every corner. Selene seems content to ignore them, focusing instead on the windows and the bedroom.

“I just moved in, you know,” I find myself saying, my voice rough and scratchy. “Haven’t had a chance to unpack everything yet.” The words feel strange, talking to a dog like she can understand me. But there’s something comforting about it, too. A connection, however one-sided it might be.

Selene tilts her head, her blue eyes fixed on mine as if she’s listening intently. I smile, despite the aches and chills wracking my body. “You’re a good listener, aren’t you? Maybe I should keep you around.”

The thought is tempting. It would be nice to have some company, especially on days like this when I feel so miserable.

But no. I need to be responsible.

I let my head fall back against the couch cushions, my hand still resting on Selene’s head. The fever is making my thoughts fuzzy, my mind wandering down strange paths. Talking to a dog like she’s a person, considering keeping her even though I know I can’t.

It’s the sickness talking, I tell myself. The delirium of a fever-addled brain.

“I must be losing it,” I mutter, closing my eyes. “Talking to a dog like you can understand me. Next thing you know, I’ll be having full conversations with the walls.”

Selene whines softly, as if in sympathy. I crack one eye open to look at her, a wry smile tugging at my lips. “Don’t worry, I’m not that far gone yet. But if I start talking to the furniture, feel free to stage an intervention.”

She wags her tail, and I swear there’s a glint of amusement in her eyes. Or I’m just giving humanity to a dog because I’ve spent my entire life around wolves with human souls in them.

I let my eyes drift closed again. The medicine should be kicking in soon, hopefully bringing some relief.

“Thanks for the company,” I whisper, my words slurring as I start to drift off. “You’re a good dog, Selene. A real good dog.”

* * *

I wake up to something stabbing me in my ass, but also—no dreams.

The all-over body aches aren’t as bad, and there’s something warm and heavy on my feet.

Aside from the buttcheek being stabbed, I’m feeling a lot better.

Shoving my hand beneath my butt, I feel around blindly between the couch cushions until something cold and pointy jabs at my fingers.

Squinting in the dim light, I inspect my find. A slender, deep purple crystal, tapered at both ends, hanging off an elegant gold chain. For a second, it feels like my fingers tingle where I touch it, but the sensation fades quickly.

Weird.

Where the hell did this come from? I’ve never seen it before. Did it fall out of one of Mrs. Elkins’ boxes?

Still groggy, I fumble for my phone on the coffee table, nearly knocking over a glass of water in the process. The screen lights up, blaring the time into my eyes. 10:37 AM.

Glad I called in yesterday. I would have slept in.

Snapping a quick photo, I send it to Mrs. Elkins with a text.

[AVA: Found this in my couch. Is it yours?]

A soft whine draws my attention to the other end of the couch. Selene lifts her head, her icy blue eyes fixed on me with uncanny intelligence, her ears flicking around.

“Hey, girl.” My voice comes out raspy, my throat still raw from sleep. When I run my fingers through her thick fur, she leans into my touch, her tail thumping against the cushions.

My phone buzzes.

[MRS. ELKINS: No, dear, that’s not mine. Never seen it before. Are you feeling better? Get some rest today.]

How odd. It must have just been wedged in the cushions and got knocked loose during all my tossing and turning.

[AVA: I’m doing better. I should be at work tomorrow! Thanks, Mrs. E.]

Feeling buoyed by her concern, I heave myself off the couch, disrupting Selene in the process. “Sorry, girl. Nature calls.”

Hmm. Dogs need to go pee, too.

Part of me is too worried that she won’t come back, but—she’s not mine. She’s just a dog who shoved her way into my house last night.

“I’m going to let you outside to potty. If you come back, I’ll keep you. But if you go, I’m going to call Animal Control and have them take you back again. Got it?”

Her blue eyes blink at me, guileless and clear.

What am I doing, trying to reason with a dog? I’ve spent too much time around wolves.

Shaking my head, I let Selene out the front door, but not before peeking around first. No one’s there, of course.

I don’t feel that itchy being watched sensation anymore, either.

“Go on, girl. Get your potty on.”

The silver husky prances out the door with little huff and snort that sounds oddly disdainful, glancing at me over her shoulder before bounding down the stairs.

Leaving the door propped open in case she comes back—because there’s a huge, soft part of me that doesn’t want to miss out in case she comes to the door and leaves because I don’t answer in time—I rush to the bathroom, ready to feel human again.

All the movement has both cleared my mind, even as my body breaks out into chills.

Still sick. But at least I’m better.

Selene’s back inside when I’m done with morning ablutions, and I close the door behind her with a smile, watching as she sniffs around the apartment once again. “That’s it. You’re mine now, okay? But I still need to get you food. And a leash. And a collar.” Shit, all that stuff costs money, too.

She snorts and rolls onto the ground, feet up, like her back needs scratched.

Despite the chills and sweat running down my back, I feel… energized.

I’m even bouncing a little on my feet.

Making breakfast doesn’t do much to take the edge off, and I share a plate of eggs and some instant-mix pancakes with Selene, who scarfs them down like she’s starving.

When I leave the apartment, she screams like a child whose arm is being cut off.

No matter how many times I try to soothe her before trying again, the screams continue.

So I let her follow me, collarless and leashless, as I hope no one stops me for my at-loose dog.

When we enter the store, one of the employees gives us a dirty look, and I snatch a leash and collar as soon as I can, holding into the tags once I put them on Selene.

Feeling a little less like a criminal breaking laws, I head to the dog food aisle, surprised when an old man steps in front of me to coo at Selene, who growls in his direction.