Tangled in Moonlight: Unshifted - Chapter 393
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Chapter 393: Ava: Snowball Training
The mattress dips, and warmth radiates against my back as Lucas slides under the covers, his scent wrapping around me in comfort.
“Sorry I didn’t get to see you when you got back.” His voice rumbles through his chest, pressed against my spine. “I was with the trainees.”
“S’okay.” I burrow deeper into his embrace, savoring the solid wall of his chest. He makes the best winter heater. “Everything okay?”
“Mostly.” His breath tickles my neck as he nuzzles into my hair. The tension melts from my muscles, replaced by a bone-deep contentment that only comes from being held by my mate.
Then he sniffs me, nudging against the scar and mate mark on my neck.
“You smell like magic.” His nose traces along my shoulder. “I heard it was rough today.”
Sleep tugs at the edges of my consciousness, but I fight it to enjoy this moment. “Yeah, but it’ll be easier next time.”
His hand rests with possessive familiarity against my hip, the simple touch sends sparks of pleasure through my drowsy body. “Good. I worry when you push yourself too hard.”
“I’m learning my limits.”
The bed shifts again as Selene hops up, circling twice before nuzzling her head against Lucas’ hip and belly.
I crack one eye open to glare at her.
What? Her tail thumps against the mattress. I missed our mate too.
“Traitor,” I mutter, but there’s no heat behind it.
It’s perfectly normal. She yawns, showing off her impressive fangs. We’re connected, remember? I feel what you feel.
His chest vibrates with silent laughter. “Let her stay.”
I huff but snuggle deeper into his arms. Her presence adds another layer of warmth to our cozy nest.
“Sleep,” Lucas murmurs, pressing a kiss to my temple. “Everything else can wait until tomorrow.”
Not fair, Grimoire complains, and when I crack my eyes open again, I can see him on the floor in his silver fox form. I’m the only one left out.
Selene makes a little rumbling growl. Stay out.
* * *
Stop yawning.
“Sorry.” Another yawn escapes before I can clamp my mouth shut. My eyes water, and I swipe at them with my gloved hand.
Your body is adjusting to normal magical levels, Grimoire says, his fox form perched on a nearby log. You’ve been running on excess power for so long, you don’t even realize how much you’ve been borrowing from your magic.
A snowball whizzes past my ear. I throw up a small shield, just big enough to deflect it. The packed snow explodes into powder.
Squeals of delight erupt from behind the snow fort where five of our youngest pack members huddle. Their excitement at being included in “Luna’s training” hasn’t dimmed despite the cold turning their cheeks and noses bright red.
“Again!” little Sierra shouts, her gap-toothed grin visible even from here.
Remember, efficiency and accuracy over power. The shield should be no larger than necessary, and only last as long as it’s required.
“I know, I know.” My next shield wobbles, barely materializing in time to block Tommy’s fastball. The boy has scary good aim for a six-year-old. He got me in the butt once, and my eye another time.
Another projectile comes from my left. I spin, conjuring a shield the size of my palm. The snowball splatters against it, sending icy spray across my face.
“Ha! Got you wet!” Penny bounces up and down, her pigtails flying.
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Partial hits still count, Grimoire says, as if I care about the score. The kids do, of course. Grimoire has a little scoreboard going for them. Focus on placement.
My arms are starting to feel like lead weights. Even these tiny bursts of magic drain more energy than I expected. Without my usual reserves to draw from, each shield requires precise control.
The more I do, the more mental exhaustion takes its toll.
Plus, I have to infuse my mana into the air around me, so I get advance warning before a snowball hits. My natural skills aren’t high enough to avoid what I can’t see; my magic has to fill that gap.
It drains my magic every second my magic pulses around me, and I only have about a five-foot radius of awareness protection.
“You’re doing great!” Marcus calls from his position near the kids. He and Greg volunteered to supervise the “ammunition makers” after the first snowball fight devolved into chaos.
They both are thrilled with this training regimen, because it’s something that actively works on my self-defense.
Two more snowballs fly at me simultaneously. I manage to block one with a perfectly sized shield, but the second catches me in the shoulder. It’s a tiny, icy rock, the snow packed densely by tiny little hands.
“Direct hit!” Tommy pumps his fist in the air. “Did you see that? I got you, Luna!”
“Very impressive,” I say, unable to hold back my smile at his pride. This training session is not only helping my control, but it’s helping my bond with my pack. The mothers of these young pups are thrilled to have them interacting with their Luna, and the kids are over the moon to be a part of the fun.
Another yawn ambushes me. My next shield flickers and dissipates before the snowball reaches it, leaving me with a face full of snow.
Perhaps we should end here for today, Grimoire suggests. You’ve made excellent progress.
“I think we’re done, kids.” The suggestion fills me with relief; I’m exhausted, and way too many snowballs have gotten through my defenses. While many of them are just fluffballs that explode into harmless powder, some of them—like Tommy’s little bombs of ice—sting a little on impact.
Pathetic, Selene mutters in my head, and I can feel her doggy disapproval from wherever the hell she is, hunting down some rabbit trail.
“No!” Five voices protest in unison.
“Just a little longer,” Sierra pleads, already packing another snowball with her tiny hands. “Please, Luna?”
My heart melts at their eager faces. “Five more minutes,” I concede. “Then hot chocolate for everyone.”
The promise of hot chocolate sparks a flurry of activity. They’ve once again ditched the snow fort, having more fun assaulting me from different angles.
I brace myself as my young attackers prepare their final assault, determined to make these last minutes count.
A volley of snowballs arcs through the air. I summon shield after shield, each one exactly where it needs to be, no larger than necessary. My timing has improved greatly from earlier this morning, when I couldn’t get a shield up in time for the life of me. Thankfully, the projectiles were just snowballs and not something more life-threatening.
But fatigue makes my reactions sluggish, despite the clear improvement.
Better. You’re learning to anticipate trajectories instead of just reacting.
“Thanks, I—” A snowball catches me in the back of the head. I spin to find Selene in wolf form, looking far too pleased with herself, next to a guilty-looking Greg.
“That doesn’t count!” I protest. “You’re not part of the game.”
My wolf just wags her tail, already nosing another pile of snow.
The kids dissolve into giggles at my indignant expression. Greg holds up his hands, clearly caught between his Luna and her obstinate husky-wolf. Even Marcus struggles to maintain a straight face.
“All right, time’s up!” I announce before Selene can launch another sneak attack via some random pack member. For all I know, she’ll get a kid in on it. I thought she was out hunting her favorite furry prey; clearly, she took advantage of my busy brain to sneak back in and get one over on me. “Who’s ready for hot chocolate?”
The clearing I’ve co-opted for my snowball fight training empties in record time as small bodies race toward the cafeteria.
Grimoire clears his throat. You did well today. Your control is improving.
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