Tangled in Moonlight: Unshifted - Chapter 337

Chapter 337: Ava: Coming Into Her Power
For a moment, I stare at my hand in disbelief. Did I really just do that?

You used too much power, Grimoire says. You can’t let it shoot out like that. You’ll hurt an innocent.

I wasn’t trying, though. I’d just moved without thinking.

Yes. That’s why you need to focus. Pay attention, he’s getting back up.

Several wolves converge on the fallen vampire, but he swings his arms with a blood-chilling shriek.

He’s hurt. He’s going to draw on all his power to fight back.

But he’s already doing it before Grimoire’s words finish, swinging his arms in a wide arc that throws off five grown wolves. They aren’t massive, but they’re solid, large male wolves, who can’t just fly through the air with a swing of someone’s arm.

But the vampire manages it, his glittering red eyes locking on me.

“Ava!” Vanessa screams.

A pair of hands grabs me from behind, pulling me back toward the truck. I thrash, shocked to turn and see Wes’ grim face. “Luna, you need to run. We’ll hold them off for you.”

“No, Wes, I’m not—”

The vampire’s eyes lock onto me, a predatory gleam that sends ice through my veins. He moves so fast, he’s nothing but a blur. My body reacts before my mind can catch up.

“Sorry, Wes,” I mutter, planting my feet and using the young wolf’s momentum against him.

I throw Wes over my shoulder, my muscles straining with the effort. He hits the ground with a thud and a yelp, but he’s safe. The vampire’s claws whistle through the air where Wes had been standing just a heartbeat ago.

Relief floods through me, but there’s no time to dwell on it. The vampire is already pivoting, his attention solely on me now.

A gray blur slams into the vampire’s side. The wolf—I can’t quite place who it is in the chaos—snaps and growls, momentarily throwing the vampire off balance. But it’s not enough. With a snarl of his own, the vampire grabs the wolf by the scruff and hurls it away like a rag doll.

Now, Ava! Grimoire’s voice rings in my head. Channel the magic through your core, not just your hands. Visualize the energy coalescing in your chest, then direct it outward.

I don’t have time to question or doubt, feeling the magic surge through me. It feels directed, as though Grimoire’s hands are on it, guiding it to where it needs to be. It’s different from before—more focused, more potent.

Everything moves in slow motion. The vampire’s arm is piercing forward, claws straight out, aiming for my chest, white fangs bared in a feral grin. He’s covered in streaks of blood, ruby red eyes wide with crazed furor.

Sliding past his arm, I throw a punch at his chest, willing my magic to follow the movement. It’s easier to channel magic through my body.

A blast of pure energy erupts as my fist makes contact with his chest, and his torso explodes as though it’s made of paper. The force of it sends him staggering backward, his eyes wide with shock.

For a moment, I think it’s over. But the vampire doesn’t fall. He looks down at the gaping hole in his chest, then back at me. Blood drips everywhere, and it smells… decayed.

His lips curl into a sneer.

You need to cut off his head. They can survive without blood, you know.

Seriously? A literal hole in the chest isn’t good enough?

This is why it’s hard to fight vampires.

“I don’t have a weapon!”

Use your magic. Shape it, mold it. Imagine a blade of pure energy.

The vampire lunges. I dodge to the side, feeling the rush of air as his claws barely miss my face. He might still be alive, in whatever vampiric sense that is, but he’s definitely slower.

My heart pounds in my ears, but my brain tells me something that I know with all my heart.

I can do this.

He’s slow enough for me to dodge.

I can fight.

I try to focus, to shape the magic as Grimoire instructed. But it’s hard to concentrate with death literally snapping at my heels.

Three times I fail, as I evade the vampire’s attacks, one after another. He’s not giving me a chance to regroup.

Focus.

The vampire’s next attack catches me off guard. His hand closes around my throat, lifting me off the ground. I gasp for air, clawing at his iron grip.

As spots dance in my vision, something inside me snaps. A surge of determination, of raw survival instinct, floods through me. I stop fighting against the vampire’s grip and instead pour all my concentration into the magic swirling within me.

You can do it, Grimoire says, and that magic inside of me once again feels as though it’s being molded and guided by his hands.

It’s like a giant cheat, but that’s okay. As long as I survive, I’ll try anything.

I feel the magic respond, coalescing into a tangible form in my hand. Without hesitation, I swing my arm in a wide arc.

The magic-forged blade slices through the vampire’s arm without even a hint of resistance. His grip on my throat vanishes, and I drop to the ground, gasping for air.

But I don’t stop. I can’t. Before the vampire can recover, I lunge forward, swinging the energy blade with all my might.

Once again, there’s no resistance. It’s as if I just slice through air. The vampire’s head topples from his shoulders, his body crumpling to the ground a second later.

I stand there, panting, the magical blade still clutched in my trembling hand.

You aren’t done! Grimoire shouts. There are four left. Get it together!

Shit.

All of that felt as though long minutes passed, but the wolf that had collided into the vampire’s side is just now getting back on her feet. It’s Vanessa. Now that I my eyes are focused, I can recognize her immediately.

Wes is also standing beside me, eyes wide in shock. And behind me is Marcus, just now slowing to a stop. He’d been running to save me.

“Keep Aurum safe!” I hiss, realizing I’m still gasping for breath. My lungs burn and ache, making it hard to shout orders.

Vanessa shifts back, pointing to the crowd of fighters. “Aurum’s there, Ava.”