Tangled in Moonlight: Unshifted - Chapter 287

Chapter 287: Ava: Seeing Lucas Again
“Ava?”

Lisa shakes me awake, but it takes a few blinks for my eyes to adjust to reality.

“What is it?” My throat is croaky, and I clear it with a few dry coughs.

“Kellan brought dinner. You’ve been sitting like that for a few hours. I wasn’t sure if I should bother you or not.”

My muscles protest as I push myself to my feet, my entire body stiff after hours of stillness. Every joint in my body seems to creak and pop, like I’m twenty years older than I am. Or maybe it’s just the weight of everything bearing down on me.

“Thanks,” I mumble as Lisa hands me a plate with a simple turkey sandwich. The sight of food makes my stomach growl, and I realize I’m ravenous.

I take a bite, savoring the simple flavors. It’s nothing fancy, but right now it tastes like the best thing I’ve ever eaten. Lisa watches me, concern etched on her face.

“Did you make any progress?” she asks hesitantly, after depositing the wardstone between us for security. It’s only a ten-foot radius; better to keep it close.

I grimace, swallowing hard. “I’m not sure if what I did was considered progress.”

Lisa’s eyebrows furrow. “What do you mean?”

I take another bite, chewing slowly as I try to gather my thoughts. How do I even explain what happened? The eerie forest, the mysterious pond, the spirit… it all seems so surreal now that I’m back in the real world.

“There’s a place I go sometimes. It’s like some sort of magical realm, but it feels kind of like a dream. This time, there was a dead forest and a dark pond. And a spirit.”

Lisa tilts her head. “A spirit? Like a ghost, or…?”

I shake my head. “No, not like that. More like… a guardian, I guess? Of the magic in that place. But I still don’t know where that place was, or why I was there.”

Resting her chin in her hand, she watches me eat. “Well, where were you trying to go?”

“To the book. Well, I wasn’t trying to go anywhere, but I wanted to connect with the book.”

“So doesn’t it stand to reason that it has something to do with the book? That place, and the spirit?”

“No, they said—” Wait. Squinting, as if that somehow makes my memories clearer, I think back. The spirit never gave me their name, but gave up Grimoire’s without a second thought. The spirit somehow knew about Grimoire and my connection, and knows a lot about the book—and my attempts to contact him.

Could it be…?

“Son of a bitch,” I mutter, scowling at the sandwich in my hands. I want to go back to that place and demand answers, but my stomach demands more food.

I’ll just have to eat fast.

“What is it?”

Unable to talk around a mouthful of food, I hold up a hand, chewing furiously as I think. If the spirit is Grimoire, then that place is—what? I don’t know. Either Grimoire’s place in that magical realm, or maybe the bond between us?

There are too many things I don’t understand.

Sealed magic. Dead lands. They called it a hellhole. Said they were trapped.

Curious. Very curious.

Swallowing, I tell Lisa, “I think the spirit is the book. I just missed it while I was there.”

* * *

Lisa convinces me to sleep before trying again, despite the anticipation coursing through my veins. I’m sure she’s right—it would be better to try after a good night of sleep and some renewed energy.

But it doesn’t help the feeling of urgency, like I’m lagging behind as things inexorably move onward.

I’m always a few steps behind.

But first, Lucas.

My night is spent tossing from side to side, wondering if he’ll be happy to see me. Or if he’ll suffer through it like an obligation.

A few nightmares, a mediocre breakfast of boiled eggs and toast, and a quick shower later, I’m back at the hospital, meeting a familiar unfriendly face at the front desk.

Kellan isn’t here—he’s already been sniffing around Lisa this morning before disappearing for whatever he has to do to keep the pack running—but Marcus is, and his presence behind me makes it a little easier to meet the disdain in the receptionist’s eyes as she looks me over.

“Oh. You again.”

“That’s right,” I say, forcing maximum cheer into my voice. “Here to visit my mate.”

Her face goes remarkably impassive at my words. I’m sure she’s cursing my audacity in her head.

“Why don’t I see if he wants visitors?” she suggests, oozing fake concern.

I sense Marcus tensing behind me, his energy coiling like a spring ready to snap. Without turning, I raise my hand slightly, a silent signal for him to stand down. This isn’t his battle to fight.

“Oh, I’m surprised,” I say, injecting a healthy dose of false sweetness into my voice. “Do you do this for every patient under your care when a visitor arrives? Or is there another reason behind your… diligence?”

The receptionist’s face tightens, her lips pressing into a thin line. She’s clearly not used to being called out so directly. I can almost see the gears turning in her head as she tries to formulate a response that won’t get her in trouble.

“I’m simply following protocol, Miss Grey,” she says, her tone clipped. “We take patient privacy very seriously here.”

“I see.” I lean forward, placing my hands on the counter. “And does this protocol extend to all visitors, or just me?”

Her eyes flicker to Marcus standing behind me, then back to me. “All visitors,” she insists, but I can hear the lie in her voice.

“That’s interesting,” I muse, tapping my fingers on the counter. “Because I couldn’t help but notice yesterday that several other visitors walked right in without being questioned. In fact, I don’t recall seeing anyone make a single phone call to check if those patients wanted visitors.”

The receptionist’s face flushes, a mix of anger and embarrassment coloring her cheeks. “I-I don’t have to explain myself to you,” she stammers.

“No, you don’t,” I agree, my voice low and steady. “But you do have to do your job fairly and without discrimination. Unless, of course, there’s a specific reason you’re treating me differently?”

I can feel Marcus shifting behind me, probably itching to step in. But I need to handle this on my own. I’m tired of this. Tired of feeling like everyone’s looking at me sideways. Tired of worrying about not fitting in.

All I want is to see my mate. To be his strength.

I’m his partner, and I need everyone to see that. Even if they don’t like it.

The receptionist opens her mouth, then closes it again, clearly at a loss for words. I press my advantage.

“Look, I understand you might have your reservations about me. But I am Lucas’s mate, whether you like it or not. And right now, he needs me. So unless you have a direct order stating that I’m not allowed to see Lucas, I suggest you let me through.”

For a moment, I think she might actually refuse. Her hands clench on the desk, and I can see the struggle playing out across her face.

Wrapping my knuckles on the desk, I add with a cheerful smile, “Right now, ma’am.”

Her shoulders hunch and her head ducks down, refusing to meet my eyes. “Room three.”

I turn to Marcus, who’s watching me with an expression that might be pride.

“You good to wait here?” I ask him.

He nods. “As you wish, Luna.”

The receptionist behind me sucks in a sharp breath. Yeah, that title is probably a punch in the gut when she tried to play petty tricks just moments ago.

“Thanks, Marcus.”

Slipping into Lucas’ room after a quick knock, I lean against the door, suddenly feeling drained. It’s a small victory, but it feels significant. For once, I didn’t back down. I didn’t let someone else fight my battles for me.

Lucas is sitting up in bed, his broad frame making the hospital bed look almost comically small. His eyes lock onto mine the moment I enter, and I feel a jolt of electricity run through me. Even without his memories, the connection between us is undeniable.

“Hi,” I say softly, suddenly feeling shy. “How are you feeling?”

Lucas studies me for a long moment before answering. “Better,” he says, his voice a low rumble that sends shivers down my spine. “You seem worse, though.”

I nod, not trusting my voice. There’s no recognition in his eyes, no warmth of familiarity. It’s like looking at a stranger wearing Lucas’s face.

“I’m sorry,” he continues, “but I still don’t remember you.”

Letting out a shaky sigh, I force a weak smile to my face. “Didn’t expect that to change so quickly. How’s the food here?”

There’s an empty tray off to the right, and—

“Wait a second.” Where’s his cast? His sling? His numerous bandages?