Tangled in Moonlight: Unshifted - Chapter 344

Chapter 344: Ava: She’s Grown — END SEASON FIVE!!
My palm itches as I walk through our compound. It’s quiet again, reminding me of the first day Marcus, Vanessa, and I rolled in.

The attacks have probably brought up plenty of unresolved trauma, but the lost lives and wounded are the main source of our bottomed out morale once again.

Yes, we defended our home—but at what cost?

The energy here is strange. We should be high with Lucas’ show of power, and instead we’re all hiding again.

I spot Wes up ahead and raise my hand to wave, a smile already forming on my lips. But as our eyes meet, his widen and he’s gone, darting behind a nearby cabin.

“Wes?” I step in his direction with some hesitation.

Many wolves aren’t sure what to make of what they witnessed the night of the attack. They are scared of your power.

The night I wielded magic like some kind of supernatural warrior, decapitating vampires with energy blades? Yeah, I can see how that might have people feeling some kind of way.

Sighing, I change course and head toward the kitchens, now paying attention to the body language of the wolves I encounter. Their gazes slide away from mine. Some are outright avoiding me.

Someone carrying a stack of firewood nearly stumbles as he hurries past, careful not to brush against me.

“This is ridiculous,” I mutter under my breath. “I saved their lives.”

You also scared them, Selene points out. Power like yours isn’t something they’re used to seeing, especially not from someone they considered… well…

“Weak?”

I was going to say ‘human’, Selene corrects me. But yes, that too.

I reach the kitchen entrance and pause, taking a deep breath. The scent of fresh bread wafts out, reminding me why I came here in the first place. Food. Focus on that, not on awkward social dynamics.

As I step inside, the bustling activity doesn’t stop, but it shifts—pardon the pun.

Conversations die down, replaced by the clinking of pots and pans. A young wolf stirring a large pot of stew—which has become our standard fare as the weather continues to cool—avoids my gaze.

Shockingly, Elverly is working here, moving from table to table with efficiency. She has several bowls and trays stacked when she stops in front of me.

“Luna Ava,” she greets me, much more polite than Lisa ever made her out to be. “What can we do for you?”

It’s telling that the gnome, and not my own people, is the one to greet me. I know my magic is strange. Jericho even warned me a long time ago that the pack might push back against Lucas’ choice of Luna when they learn I can wield magic.

What did he say? Witches don’t have a great reputation. Among humans or wolves… Even though our history is actually one of cooperation, apparently.

Though, if there’s one thing I’ve learned since leaving Blackwood, it’s that real history isn’t anything like the books say it is.

I force a smile, trying to ignore the way everyone seems to hold their breath. “Just came to see how our supplies are holding up. And maybe grab a snack, if there’s anything to spare?”

Elverly nods, her movements efficient as she sets the dirty dishes aside. She comes back with a small loaf of bread and a wedge of cheese. “Here you are. We’re doing alright on basics, but fresh produce is running low. The hunting parties have been bringing in good hauls, though. Did you want some stew? Mary over there can help you with that.”

“Thanks, Elverly.”

I turn the bread and cheese over in my hands, ready to leave, but Selene stops me.

Hiding isn’t going to make anything better.

With a deep breath, I pivot and approach Mary, the young wolf stirring the stew. Her eyes widen as I near, and I’m pretty sure I can smell her anxiety. It’s eye-tingly, like freshly cut onions.

“Could I have a bowl of stew, please?” I ask, keeping my voice soft and friendly.

See, people? I’m not a threat. I’m just your Luna, who wields magic and decapitates vampires. Nothing strange here!

God. Who am I kidding? I’m not normal at all.

Mary nods rapidly, her hands shaking as she ladles the steaming liquid into a bowl. She almost drops it twice before managing to hand it to me.

“Thank you,” I say, offering her a warm smile as I take the bowl.

As I turn to leave, Mary’s voice, small but clear, stops me in my tracks.

“Thank you for saving us all, Luna.”

The sincerity in her words washes over me, melting away some of the ice that had formed around my heart. I look back at her, realizing what I saw as fear was actually awe.

She’s not terrified of me.

She’s just beside herself.

Her eyes practically glitter with an entire galaxy of stars as she stares at me.

Before I can respond, a few other wolves stand up from their tables. One by one, they offer their thanks, their voices growing stronger with each expression of gratitude.

“We owe you our lives, Luna Ava.”

“Your magic saved us all.”

“We’re honored to have you as our Luna.”

Their words chip away at my preconceptions. I’ve fallen back into old habits, assuming the worst about how others perceive me. But these wolves aren’t avoiding me because they don’t want me around.

They’re unsure, even afraid. But they don’t hate me.

They just don’t know how to approach me anymore. I’m an anomaly, but I’m not anathema.

Heat rushes into my cheeks, and I blink back the tears trying to flood my eyes.

Here I am, standing with a bowl of stew, some bread, and some cheese, in the middle of a makeshift cafeteria, suddenly thrust into an impromptu address.

“You don’t have to thank me.” I meet their eyes as steadily as I can, even though I just want to find a corner to cry in. Happy tears, though. So different from the past. “You are my pack, and I am your Luna. I would lay down my life for every one of you.”

There’s no applause for my words, and I don’t expect them. Just a few nods, some proud smiles, and a surprising amount of she-wolves who approach me as I sit, finally freeing my hands by placing everything on the table.

“Luna Ava,” one of them says, her silver-streaked hair pulled back in a neat bun, “is there anything you need? Anything we can do to help?”

I recognize her. She organized laundry days. It’s a simple thing, doing laundry—but having no washing machines makes the job much harder. Having a large group of women take on the chore has helped make sure everyone has clean clothes, and we’ve even managed to more properly sort people into correct sizes.

I’m touched by her offer, by this sudden outpouring of support. “Thank you,” I reply, genuinely moved. “Right now, I think what we all need most is to come together as a pack. To support each other and rebuild our strength. We have more fights to come in our future, and we need to be prepared.”

As I eat my stew, I feel Selene’s approval resonating in my mind.

That’s it, Ava. Stand tall. Don’t let anyone make you feel less than the strong Luna you are. Your people will follow your lead.

She’s right. I’ve spent too long doubting myself, letting others’ perceptions shape my own self-worth.

But I’m not that scared, powerless girl of my past. I’m Luna of the Westwood Pack, mate to Lucas, magician-in-training (or something to that effect), and protector of my people.

I’ve grown.