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Tangled in Moonlight: Unshifted (Ava and Lucas)

Chapter 76
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Chapter 76 Ava: Saved

Lucas' scent hitsafter I've already tried to murder him.

An unmistakable blend of the outdoors, of amber and campfire smoke, of something so uniquely mate that it

drawsin even through the pain of our past.

It's him. He's here.

The knife clatters from my trembling hand as every muscle in my body goes lax with relief. I'd been so tense,

coiled tight like a spring ready to snap, terrified of losing my life tonight. But now Lucas is here.

He cfor me.

"Lucas," | breathe out, hope and prayer all in one, the sound barely more than a whisper. My entire body

crumples, overworked in its stress.

He's really here. I'm not dreaming. He's not a hallucination. This is real. Real.

My mate.

My savior.

Strong arms wrap around me, drawingin against an embrace both hard and warm, filled with assurance and

yearning. His hands holdas if I'm stender, precious thing, going from my back, up to the back of my

head, brushing gently against my hair.

He's dropping kisses over the top of my head, against my eyebrows, then my eyes, whispering my nin a

ragged chant before crushingto him once again.

"Ava. Ava. Sweet Ava. You're safe now. Shh, it's okay. I've got you, Ava.

You're safe now." His voice rumbles, vibrating his chest against my cheek. One hand cradles my head, the other

runs soothing lines down my back.

| want to respond. | want to ask him why he's here. To thank him for coming. To tell him how terrified | was. To

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explain everything. But only a choked sob comes out as all the emotions of the last few days takes over, gripping

my body in a cold-fingered grip of horror and distress.

Tears pour down my face, soaking into the fabric of his shirt as I cling to him, as if letting him go means | can

never see freedom again.

Lucas just holdscloser. "It's alright, sweetheart. Let it out. I'm here now. No one's going to hurt you again."

"Sir, we need to move," a shifter | didn't notice murmurs from behind him.

| want to look at him, but Lucas holds my head firmly against his chest, rubbingin that soothing rhythm as |

try with desperate gasps and sobs to gather ssemblance of control.

"What do you need to bring with you?" Lucas asks, and | shake my head.

Nothing.

There's nothing here worth keeping.

"Okay. I'm going to carry you, Ava. We need to go fast, before anyone notices you're gone."

I nod, a short, choppy movement of my head, blowing out a shuddering breath, then filling my lungs again.

Another breath out.

He shifts his arms, sliding one under my legs and liftingas though | weigh no more than a sack of potatoes.

I'm too exhausted to feign modesty, or worry if I'm too heavy. | just lean against him, trying to breathe in a way

that sounds less... wet.

"Let's go," he says, but he's talking over his shoulder, so | close my eyes and relax against him.

As he carriesout of the room, | fight the urge to think about the past—his rejection, my complicated feelings

for Clayton, or the tangled web that broughthere. | just want to be a boneless lump in Lucas' arms, soaking

in his presence and the promise of freedom.

But then a nagging thought tugs at my consciousness, and | jerk slightly in his hold. "Wait," | murmur, struggling

to find my voice. "I think there's a tracker in my phone."

Lucas doesn't hesitate. He fishes the burner phone out of my pocket and hands it to one of the shifters

accompanying us. Without blinking, the strange shifter crushes the device in his hand, destroying any potential

tracking device.

Next, he produces a small canister and spraysdown with a fine mist. The scent is earthy and familiar, very

neutral-seeming. "This will help conceal your scent for a while," he explains, before handinga small pill. "And

swallow this. It's a long-lasting scent diffuser that will make it harder for anyone to track you by scent."

| obey without question, trusting Lucas and his team implicitly. The pill leaves a bitter taste in my mouth, but |

welcthe added protection it provides.

It occurs tothat | had so much suspicion when Clayton cto my rescue, but with Lucas—despite our

history—I can feel so comfortable. Comfortable enough to allow myself to be drugged.

Mate bonds are crazy like that, | guess.

With the precautions taken, things move at a clipped pace. Lucas leads the way, his strides purposeful and

determined, and the strange shifter with the scent diffusing drugs is right behind him. Four more appear out of

the shadows as we leave the house.

The woods envelop us, the darkness broken only by the occasional beam of moonlight filtering through the

canopy above. The humid summer air is heavy with the scent of earth and foliage. Our footsteps are muffled by

the soft ground, but the snapping of twigs and rustling of leaves betray our passage.

| can't smell a single one of them, | realize.

These scent diffusers are amazing.

We move as quickly as stealth allows, weaving through the trees and underbrush. Lucas never falters, his grip on

and the reassuring strength of his arms.

| should probably tell him I can walk, but my entire body protests at the thought.

Tseems to blur as we navigate the labyrinth of the forest, putting as much distance as possible between us

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and the Blackwood territory. The only sounds are their controlled breathing and the whisper of the wind through

the branches.

"Where are we going?" | ask, after what feels like hours. Lucas' breathing has never faltered, even while carrying

"White Peak," he answers, his words soft. "We have cars. From there, you'll be taken straight to Westwood. | have

to stay here—" there's agony on his face as he says this, a spasm in his jaw, "—because we have business with

Blackwood. But your safety cfirst."

I nod. I've learned enough to understand that this is war.

I'm not sure how it will all turn out, but I'm just grateful to be out of there.

"Okay. Can | use your phone?"

He looks confused, but slows down to grab it out of his pocket and hand it to me, unlocking it before he does so.

| immediately open his messaging app, trying not to read any of his message previews. That would be rude, after

all.

But I'm startled to see Clayton's non one of the more recent conversations.

Fighting the urge to snoop, | type a message to Lisa, explaining whose phone it is and where they're taking me.

It takes only a second for her to respond.

[LISA: I'll meet you in Granite City.]

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