Tangled in Moonlight: Unshifted - Chapter 334

Chapter 334: Ava: Securing the Perimeter
The branch trembles in my hand as I trace the intricate pattern onto the exposed earth. Sweat beads on my forehead despite the chill in the air. I’ve never done anything like this before, but Grimoire guides me through each step.

First, a rune.

Then, to tie in all four elements.

“Hold it steady, Vester,” I mutter, glancing up at him. He’s holding Grimoire open, carefully following me around the circle without stepping on any of my work.

You’re doing well, Grimoire’s voice echoes in my mind. Remember, precision is key.

I nod, focusing back on the task at hand. The rune is complex, all swirling lines and sharp angles. One mistake could render the whole thing useless. No pressure, right?

I’m not entirely certain how these runes and glyphs work, but Grimoire assures me they’re what we need. Of course, I have questions like who was the first one to discover these glyphs and why do random glyphs have the power to do crazy things, but Grimoire just tells me to try to understand basic magic before diving into advanced history.

Not super helpful.

Finally, the last line connects, and I sit back on my heels, surveying my work. It’s not perfect, but it’s close enough. I hope. A rune that spans across five feet in a rough circle of earth we’ve cleared for this purpose.

“Now what?” Vester asks, his voice low.

“Now, we fill it with twigs,” I explain, reaching for the pile we’ve gathered. “They need to be connected, like a network.”

We work in silence, carefully placing small sticks and brush into the inch-deep grooves I’ve carved. It’s painstaking work, but eventually, we finish.

Taking a deep breath, I close my eyes and reach for my magic. It comes easier now, a warm current flowing through my veins. I direct it towards the flammable debris, willing them to ignite.

A soft whoosh fills the air, and when I open my eyes, the entire rune is ablaze. Fire dances along the lines, consuming the sacrifice of fuel with glee.

“Impressive,” Vester murmurs, and I can’t help but feel a small surge of pride.

As the last of the twigs turn to ash, I call upon my magic again. This time, I summon water, watching as it pools in the grooves, turning the ash into a murky slurry. Slowly, the water seeps into the earth, leaving behind damp, ashen lines.

Earth. Fire. Water. Wind. It’s all here; all four elements.

Now, infuse it with your magic, Grimoire instructs. Visualize your power flowing into the earth, creating a barrier.

I place my hands on the ground, feeling the cool dampness against my palms. Closing my eyes, I imagine my magic as a golden light, seeping from my fingertips into the rune. It’s harder than I expected, like trying to pour honey through a pinhole.

But gradually, I feel something shift. The earth beneath my hands grows warm, and when I open my eyes, the rune is glowing with a soft, golden light. It pulses once, twice, three times before fading away.

And then, to my amazement, the earth begins to move. The grooves fill themselves in, erasing any trace of our work. Within moments, it looks like we’ve done nothing more than clear a patch of ground.

“By the moon,” Vester breathes. He’s not one to stun easily.

Careful, as if worried he’ll ruin my work, he walks over the area, trying to find evidence of the ward. But there’s nothing there—at least not to his eye or touch.

My magic, though, recognizes it. Senses the ward I’ve placed here, like a beacon.

The science of glyphs might be shaky in my head, but I can see that they really work.

My legs feel a bit shaky, and I realize how much energy I’ve expended.

Vester stands as well, brushing dirt from his knees. “So, we’re done?”

I laugh, but it comes out more like a sigh. “Not even close. We need to do this every mile around the entire perimeter.”

His eyebrows shoot up. “That’s going to take all night. Longer, actually.”

Try days, Grimoire chimes in, unhelpfully.

I relay this information to Vester, whose expression grows concerned. “Can you keep up that pace?” he asks, eyeing me critically.

The question stings my pride a bit. “I managed well enough the night you rescued me,” I remind him. “I can handle this.”

He looks thoughtful for a moment, then nods. “Fair enough. Where to next?”

* * *

We get a quarter of the perimeter done before it’s too dark to see. Vester hands me a flashlight without comment and slows his pace to mine.

Walking isn’t hard. My muscles aren’t sore or stretched. But my body has no energy left, as if I’ve sapped it of everything.

Pretty much, Grimoire says cheerfully. But that’s a good thing. Depleting your reserves will only force your body to draw more magic in. Make sure you eat well. Your body needs fuel, too.

The cold bites through my clothes, seeping into my bones. I hadn’t expected it to drop this drastically. A shiver runs through me, and I clench my jaw to keep my teeth from chattering.

Without a word, Vester shrugs off his coat and drapes it over my shoulders. The residual warmth from his body envelops me, and I pull it tighter around myself.

“Thank you,” I murmur, touched by his thoughtfulness.

He doesn’t say a word, quiet as he usually is. Instead, he shifts into his wolf form as we walk. His fur ripples in the dim light; like most wolves, he’s a beautiful gray-furred wolf. Much larger than Selene, but small compared to an alpha like Lucas.

He pads ahead, leading the way back to our home.

As we walk, I can’t help but smile. It’s no wonder Vanessa loves him so much. Vester’s quiet strength and kindness shine through in moments like these. I make a mental note to tell her how much I appreciate her mate.

The lights of the camp come into view, and my heart lifts at the sight. Ever since I’ve started working with the pack, it’s come to feel like home. More than any other place I’ve lived before; even more than my precious apartment in Cedarwood.

It’s a place I have purpose. A place where I matter.

As we approach, I see several figures waiting for us.

Exhaustion weighs heavily on me, but I straighten my spine and square my shoulders; a Luna does not droop.

“Luna Ava!” a familiar voice calls out. It’s Wes, the young wolf I’ve been getting to know. His enthusiasm is infectious, and I feel my spirits lift.

“Hello, Wes,” I reply, managing a warm smile. “How are things here?”

As Wes launches into an update, others gather around. I recognize each face—Mara, the skilled huntress with a dry sense of humor; Jace, the quiet but dependable guard; Lila, whose green thumb has been invaluable to our garden efforts. She’s even put together a greenhouse, in hopes of keeping our vegetables alive a little longer.

I greet each of them in turn, asking about their days, their families. It’s more than just politeness—I genuinely care about these people. They’re my pack now, and I want them to know they matter.

A familiar face catches my eye. Sasha, a she-wolf I met just days ago. The angry red scar across her face is still healing, a reminder of the dangers we face. But her eyes are kind as she approaches.

“Luna Ava,” she says softly. “You look chilled to the bone. Come, let’s get some food in you.”

My stomach growls at her words, reminding me of how much energy I’ve expended today. Sasha gently takes my arm, leading me towards the communal kitchen. The scent of something savory and warm wafts towards us, making my stomach growl again, this time audible to everyone near.

Inside, the kitchen is a miniature hub of activity as several people sit at tables, eating.

Sasha guides me to a seat and disappears for a moment. She returns with an enormous bowl of stew, steam rising invitingly from its surface.

“Eat,” she urges, placing it before me along with a thick slice of bread. It’s soft and squishy, freshly baked. “You need to keep your strength up.”

I don’t need to be told twice. The first spoonful is heaven—rich broth, heavy on the meat, with spare bits of our meager amount of vegetables from the garden. Thankfully, wolves tend to be meat eaters, so they don’t complain.

“How are you feeling?” Sasha asks, taking a seat across from me.

I swallow a mouthful of stew before answering. “Tired,” I admit. “But good.”

She nods, understanding in her eyes. “You were scouting the perimeter today, right? It’s an important job. A Luna wouldn’t normally do it.” The words might sound a little strange, but there’s approval in her tone.

“I want to help. If there’s something I can do, I’m going to do it.”

She nods again. “Many are noticing this about you. Our Alpha has chosen wisely.”

Heat rises to my cheeks at Sasha’s words, and I quickly duck my head, focusing on my bowl. The warmth of the stew seeps into my hands as I lift another spoonful to my lips, savoring the rich flavors. It’s a welcome distraction from the unexpected praise.

I’m not used to this—people noticing my efforts, appreciating what I do. For so long, I was the outcast, the one who didn’t fit in. Now, to hear that others see value in my actions… it’s overwhelming in the best possible way.