Tangled in Moonlight: Unshifted - Chapter 233

Chapter 233: Ava: Graceless Florice
“Hogwash!”

Magister Orion’s roar rushes through the space with such force and volume that my foot slips off a stair coming down. Only Vanessa’s quick reflexes in grabbing my arm and hauling me backward saves me from an undignified tumble down the stairs and whatever injuries that might have brought my way.

Marcus squeezes by me on the stairs, motioning for me to stay back as we strain our ears to listen in.

There’s someone else talking, a female voice that’s unrecognizable to any of us, judging by the looks on everyone’s faces.

“Balderdash. This is nothing more than an attempt to curb my authority—”

The voice cuts Magister Orion off again, but I can’t hear what she’s saying.

Marcus’ brows lower into a fierce look that sends shivers down my back, and Vanessa’s jaw is tight enough to crack her teeth. Whatever they’re hearing, it isn’t good.

Magister Orion’s voice continues to climb the decibel ladder.

“I refuse to be constrained by arbitrary regulations, Florice. Should you wish to summon me, do so with the proper backing. Your misuse of authority holds no sway here. This is a battle you cannot hope to win.”

The argument between Magister Orion and Florice continues to echo through the stairwell, their voices a stark contrast. Florice’s tone remains cool and low enough to keep her words muddled to my ears, while Magister Orion’s fury builds with each exchange. Despite his growing anger, I can’t help but admire how he maintains his professionalism.

Marcus motions that it’s safe to descend, and we do so slowly, our ears trained on the room beyond the foyer.

“This discussion is over, Florice,” Magister Orion’s voice booms, finality in every syllable. “I suggest you take your leave.”

My heart races as we hear footsteps approaching. Marcus tenses, and Vanessa’s grip on my arm tightens.

As we descend to the main floor, a tall, stern-looking Fae woman emerges from the room. Her platinum blonde hair is cut into a sleek bob, and her bright blue eyes narrow as they land on us. The corners of her thin lips turn down in obvious disgust.

For a second, I can’t breathe; at first glance, all I can see is my mother.

Pain rips through my heart, through the walls I’ve thrown up over these past four months. As much as I’d love to say I’m over my parents and the abuse I’ve endured for my entire life, I’m not.

Does the pain ever end?

Do the wounds ever heal?

I hope they do.

But it takes a few seconds, and I sway a little on my feet at the woman before me, until my eyes focus on the little things.

Her nose is too long and slim.

Her face is round, with plump cheeks and narrow lips. She’s not even conventionally pretty, with a pinched look to her face that seems permanent, as though everyone around her is lacking in every way.

Mom always looked elegant. Beautiful.

This woman is harried, old despite the lack of wrinkles in her skin, and altogether unpleasant.

Nothing like Mom at all, except in her hair and eyes.

Her voice is too shrill, despite being cold and level. It stings my ears to listen to it.

“Magister Orion,” she says, her voice dripping with disdain as she maintains eye contact with me, “housing diseased animals will only work against you.”

My stomach churns, and fury bursts from my belly, up my spine, and into my head with a rush of heat. The way she looks at us, like we’re something foul she’s stepped in, makes me want to launch myself at her haughty face and claw her eyes out.

Maybe it’s because I saw her as my mother, even just for a moment.

Magister Orion’s response is swift and shocking. With a flick of his wrist, a burst of orange energy surges towards Florice, shoving her towards the exit. She stumbles and nearly falls to her knees, her eyes wide.

“This is unacceptable!” she protests, her composure finally cracking. “You cannot—”

But her words are cut off as the door slams shut behind her, leaving blessed silence.

The rage within me simmers, having nowhere to go now for relief, but there’s a sick feeling of satisfaction as I think about that shocked look on her face.

Magister Orion turns to us, his face a mix of frustration and regret. “I apologize for allowing you to witness such a disgusting display,” he says, his voice softer now. “That creature does not represent the best of our kind.”

The loud noise in my head, I realize, is Selene’s growling.

She’s furious, too.

“Did we bring you trouble, Magister?” Marcus asks.

Magister Orion shakes his head. “The trouble you see pre-dates your arrival by quite some time.” He pauses, his eyes landing on me, studying me intently. “How are you feeling after accessing your magic? Your body, I mean.”

Before I can answer, Vanessa chimes in. “She seems unusually clumsy and slow,” she says, concern evident in her voice. “She almost fell down the stairs just now, and I had to hold her up.”

“That’s because I was startled—” I protest, but Magister Orion cuts me off with a forced laugh, trying to change the mood of the moment.

“The first few times one uses magic, it typically drains all the energy from their body. It’s quite normal to feel as if you’ve run a marathon.” His lips quirk up in a small smile. “Though, I suppose it’s usually without the burning lungs.”

It’s as though my muscles just got the memo, because they suddenly feel fifty pounds too heavy. I’m exhausted, too, like every ounce of energy has been sapped from my body.

I guess I felt that way before, but I didn’t pay too much attention to it.

Like mentioning it made it worse.

“So this is normal?”

Magister Orion nods, his expression softening further. “Perfectly normal, and a good sign, actually. It means your body is adapting to channeling magical energy. With practice, this fatigue will lessen. You’re lucky, child. Most do not experience this for weeks after their first lesson.”

He pauses, looking thoughtful. “Though, I suppose they are quite a few years younger. In that respect, you’ve been quite delayed in your education.”

It’s one thing to know, intellectually, that I have magic. It’s another entirely to feel its effects coursing through my body.

“Perhaps we should continue this discussion seated,” Marcus suggests, eyeing me with concern. “Ava looks like she might topple over at any moment.”