Tangled in Moonlight: Unshifted - Chapter 353

Chapter 353: Lucas: Aggressive Behavior
LUCAS

Five wolf bodies lie on the ground, their blood settled into pools of blood beneath them, frozen now in the snow.

My beta approaches, his face grim. He kneels beside one of the corpses, examining it with a critical eye. “You said they weren’t in their right minds?”

I’ve seen my share of battles, but this was different. The rogues attacked with a ferocity that bordered on madness. “It wasn’t natural. Almost rabid. We didn’t have a chance to communicate.”

I stand over the largest of the bodies, frowning. It wasn’t as though we hadn’t tried to bring them in alive. They just had no interest in negotiating. There isn’t much we can do at that point.

Kellan’s voice breaks through my thoughts. “They’re only five miles from the compound.”

“They were heading south,” I say, watching as Kellan’s shoulders visibly relax. “Not toward the pack.”

It’s a small comfort, but I’ll take what I can get. Still, the proximity is unsettling. These rogues could have easily changed course, stumbled upon our territory. They’re too close. We need to tighten our security, make sure we don’t let it happen again.

I crouch down beside one of the bodies, studying it closely. “Maybe we should examine them further. There might be clues—”

Kellan shakes his head, cutting me off. “We don’t have the facilities for that, Lucas. Autopsying random wolves would be a waste of resources we can’t afford right now. What building are we going to take over? We can’t bring dead bodies into the hospital. We don’t have the room there, either.”

With winter in full swing and refugees to care for, we can’t spare the time or manpower for an extensive investigation over a few violent wolves. Still, the nagging feeling that we’re missing something crucial gnaws at me.

“What if they were just traumatized?” Kellan suggests after a moment. “Starving, maybe. Could have gone feral.”

It’s a reasonable theory. We’ve seen it before—wolves pushed to their limits, reverting to pure instinct. Especially as rogues without a pack. But as I look at the bodies sprawled before us, something doesn’t add up.

“It’s possible,” I concede, “but I don’t think that’s it.” I gesture to the nearest corpse. “Look at them. They’re young, strong. Their bodies are well-fed. This wasn’t desperation.”

“Then why attack without provocation? It doesn’t make sense.”

“We’ll never know now.”

The finality of my words hangs in the air. Five lives snuffed out, and for what? Such a waste of life.

My gaze falls back to the bodies at our feet. Their eyes are still open, glazed over in death, but I can’t shake the memory of the feral gleam they held during the attack. It was as if something had stripped away their humanity, leaving nothing but raw, uncontrolled aggression.

“What do you want to do with the bodies?” Kellan asks, rising to his feet as he brushes snow off his knees.

It’s a practical question, but one that carries weight. We can’t leave them here, that’s for certain. But disposing of them carelessly could leave a trail right back to us.

“We’ll send a team to take care of it,” I decide. “Have them move the bodies several miles out, away from our territory. They’ll have to use a truck. Maybe burn them out there. They don’t deserve to be something’s dinner.”

“I’ll get it organized.”

It feels as though reports of aggressive rogues have been on the uptick, but why?

The questions pile up in my head, leaving me to second-guess leaving these bodies behind. But we have no technology to help us here. No laboratory to run blood samples. Not even a microscope.

“Kellan,” I call out. He turns back to me, eyebrow raised in question. “Once we’ve taken care of this, I want to double our patrols. We can’t afford another surprise like this.”

* * *

The sound of the front door opening cuts through the rush of water.

Ava.

I shut off the shower, not bothering to rinse the soap from my body. Water drips down my chest as I grab a towel, hastily wrapping it around my waist. The tile is cold beneath my feet as I stride into the living room.

My mate stands there, snowflakes melting in her golden hair, tied back into a ponytail. Her cheeks are flushed from the cold, blue eyes bright. Something in my chest loosens at the sight of her.

“You didn’t have to cut your shower short,” she says, a smile playing at her lips.

I cross the room in three long strides, wrapping my arms around her. She’s so small against me, fitting perfectly into the curve of my body. Honey and vanilla, with that faint hint of orange, surround me, stirring Aurum in the back of my head.

Mate, he breathes, and I can feel his tail wagging.

Ava laughs, the sound brightening my day. “Lucas! You’re getting soap everywhere.” She shoves at my chest, but there’s no real force behind it.

I reluctantly let her go, watching as she shrugs off her snow-laden coat.

“Why don’t you join me? I was just getting started.”

Ava looks at me strangely, her head tilted to one side. But then she nods, a slow smile spreading across her face. “Alright.”

My heart races as I lead her to the bathroom. Steam still hangs in the air, fogging the mirror. I turn on the water, adjusting the temperature before stepping aside to let Ava in first.

She hesitates for just a moment before slipping out of her clothes, avoiding my gaze. I drink in the sight of her, my eyes tracing the curves of her body as she steps under the spray of water.

I drop my towel and join her, closing the glass door behind us. The shower suddenly feels much smaller with both of us in it. Water cascades down Ava’s body, and I can’t tear my eyes away.

“Lucas?” Ava’s voice breaks through the fog of desire clouding my mind. “What happened?”

Her words drag my eyeballs off her ass and to her face. “What do you mean?”

She turns to face me, water droplets clinging to her eyelashes. “You’re acting strange. Did something happen?”

I hesitate, unsure how to respond. The memory of those five dead wolves flashes through my mind, their unseeing eyes staring up at the sky. But I push it away.

“Nothing happened,” I say, reaching for the shampoo bottle. “Just missed you, that’s all.”

Ava’s eyes narrow, clearly not believing me. But she doesn’t press the issue, turning back to let the water run over her face.

I pour some shampoo into my hand, working it into her hair. My fingers massage her scalp, and I feel some of the tension leave her body. She leans back against me, and I have to stifle a groan.

“You’re a terrible liar, you know that?” Ava says, her voice soft.

I freeze, my hands still tangled in her hair. “I—”

She turns in my arms, her eyes meeting mine. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”

I take a deep breath, the steam filling my lungs. “We found some rogues a few miles out. They were… aggressive. We had to put them down.”

Her body stiffens. “How many?”

“Five.”

She reaches up, her hand cupping my cheek. “I’m sorry, Lucas.”

I lean into her touch, closing my eyes. “It’s terrible, but that’s not what worries me. Something was off about them. They were acting almost… feral. But they weren’t starving or desperate. It doesn’t make sense.”

Ava is quiet for a moment, her thumb tracing small circles on my skin. “I think I might now what happened. I ran into some tainted energy near one of my wards.”

My eyes snap open. “What tainted energy?”

She tells me about her encounter in the woods, how Grimoire helped her purify a strange, dark energy. As she speaks, a chill runs down my spine despite the hot water pouring over us.

“Why didn’t you tell me about this sooner?” I ask, unable to keep the edge out of my voice.

Ava’s eyes narrow, her shoulders hunching up a little. “I’ve been home for five seconds.”

Steam clouds the air, and I breathe it in, forcing my tense muscles to relax.

Even Aurum is calm in my head, taking the danger in stride when he would normally be a hot mess over any possible threat to her life.

She is our Luna, he says simply, as if that’s all I need to know.

I guess it is.

“Turn around,” I murmur, gently guiding her shoulders so her body faces me. She complies without a word, and I tilt her head back, reaching around her to rinse the shampoo from her hair. My fingers work through her golden strands, careful not to tug or pull.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have snapped at you.” The words are barely audible over the rush of water, but I know she hears them.

Her shoulders relax, her body language no longer so defensive. “It’s okay,” she replies, but her voice lacks its usual warmth. The subdued tone tugs at something in my chest.

I finish rinsing her hair and turn her to face me again. Her blue eyes meet mine, a mix of emotions swirling in their depths. I cup her face in my hands, my thumbs tracing her cheekbones.

“Hey,” I say, my voice gentle. “It’s okay to tell me when I’m being overbearing. I know I can be… intense sometimes.”

A small laugh escapes her lips, more tension leaving her body. “Isn’t that always?”