Tangled in Moonlight: Unshifted

Okay. Fuck all my inadequacies. This isn't the time, and trauma is a luxury.

That... doesn't sound right.

Ignoring Grimoire, I've managed to haul my brain into functional Luna in crisis mode by the time we make it back to Wolf's Landing.

We would have been here ages ago, but we used the time to scent out our general area on the way back—just in case.

Still no sign of the invaders, of course, but about five minutes out, we finally get a message from one of the scouting parties. They've found tracks and are on the hunt.

Good. Finally, something productive.

Still no way to contact Lucas, which is a massive problem and I have to haul back dire thoughts about him getting murdered or kidnapped—both of which, Selene points out, are far more likely to happen to me, which is a totally awesome ego boost (not, obviously), but it does help put the dangers into perspective.

My first big step as Functioning Luna in Crisis is to haul ass to the Grand Sage the moment I get permission. Our gray-skinned captive comes with me, along with a whole-ass platoon of shifters and a bunch of gawking on the way there, but they're the least of my concerns right now.

The shadow wolf murderer is still unconscious, anyway.

Lisa and I share a brief moment of hugging and being relieved each other is alive, and I finally learn that Marcus and Greg are, too. They're both here, watching over her.

Then I send all three of them away. Lisa needs to be outfitted in full tac gear, like all of us. The aesthetic isn't a big deal, but there's a vest that protects against claws and teeth (and knives, which I think was the original point of it), and different weapons that can be tucked in strategic places, and boots that won't freeze her toes when we go thirty below.

All things that might matter if terrible things happen to us all.

Meanwhile, it takes the Grand Sage less than five minutes to say there's something interfering with our communications. Which, I know, is pretty damn obvious at this point. But I wasn't here for the diagnosis—I'm here for the treatment.

"Can you fix it?" I demand, sounding way too pushy and impatient for Normal Ava. However, it sounds pretty right for Functioning Luna in Crisis.

That's a stupid name. Selene's comment is pretty mild, though. It's not bothering her that much; she just thinks my naming sense sucks.

God, if we ever have kids, she'll be a nightmare about her opinion of their names.

Not unless you call them something stupid. Like Lemon. Or Grape. Or Sawdust.

Despite the gravity of the situation, I laugh at the idea of shouting for a toddler named Sawdust to come home for dinner.

Elverly grabs my elbow in a grip reminiscent of eagle's claws. "Have you eaten?" she snaps. "You're skin and bones."

I'm pretty sure I've actually been gaining weight, though I don't argue with the gnome. Her harsh words are always meant to hide her true feelings. "No. I was kind of busy being chased down by a big, bad wolf."

Oh, wow. Apparently Functioning Luna in Crisis also has a sassy mouth.

Please stop calling yourself that. Guess it's bothering her more than I thought.

No. It's just childish.

Oh.

Elverly grumbles, "That's no excuse to skip breakfast," like it wasn't a pack-wide tragedy that just happened. With dead people.

Fuck, I haven't even gone to identify all the dead and wounded. That's next on the list.

Only if things are calm enough. Grimoire's doom-and-gloom observation sends a little shiver down my back, but then again… He's right. We're sitting around waiting on some notice from the scouts. Any minute now, shit could hit the fan.

It takes a second for me to realize Elverly disappeared. She's probably scrounging up my dinner, complaining the entire time about how I can't even walk to the cafeteria to get it.

I love her. She might grumble, but she does what needs to be done. I need to be as efficient as her. Less mouthy, though.

"Kellan." Yanking my brain out of these stupid side pathways it keeps going down, I remind myself that I'm a Functioning Luna in—

You have to stop.

Fine.

"Yes, Luna?"

"Get me another set of ropes. I'll engrave them with runes, too." Better to be prepared in case they wear off or something. "Actually, get me a few. We should have some for backup." Never know when we'll have another magical thing held captive.

His eyes are thoughtful, even as he immediately barks out commands to get things done as I've asked. I guess he's noticed my change of mindset. Good. That means what I'm doing is working.

Throw all the stupid shit into a box and lock the damn lid. My own Pandora's box of bullshit.

Elverly appears in the doorway with a plate piled high. Bacon, sausage, and eggs, along with a single fluffy biscuit. "Eat," she demands, slamming the plate onto Kellan's table.

Eyeballing the food warily, I ask, "Aren't the kitchens closed? We should be on full alert."

"They are," the pack beta confirms.

Elverly just stares at me, her diminutive stature somehow more intimidating than someone who towers. "Eat."

"But how did you—"

"Eat."

"Okay."

The eggs look delicious but taste like cardboard in my stressed-out state. Still, I force them down under th gnome's watchful glower, though I return my attention to Kellan. "We need more scouts out there. We can't keep sitting around with nothing to go off."

He shakes his head. "Too much time has passed since the breaches. We'd be spreading ourselves thin for no reason."

"But we need information." A piece of bacon snaps between my teeth with more force than necessary. "We're sitting here blind."

"That would be the worst decision." Kellan leans against the wall, arms crossed. He's stressed, too. But like Lucas, you can't even tell. He's got this whole leadership thing down pat. If he wasn't a beta, he'd make a great alpha of his own. "Think about it. If they wanted a direct confrontation, we'd have found them by now."

The fork scrapes against the plate as I stab another chunk of eggs, imagining it to be someone's eyeball. A little gruesome, but I'm kind of feeling a certain way toward people who would harm my pack. "So what, we just wait?"

"We bunker down. Secure what we have. Prepare for the worst. Whoever's out there is playing stealth, but that doesn't mean they won't take an opportunity we hand to them. A weak central force is exactly that kind of opportunity."

Damn him and all his reasonable logic. I'm practically zinging with the need to do something, but he's shooting down everything. As he should, but God. I don't want to sit around waiting for something to happen to us.

It's like this entire year has been just things happening to us.

The Grand Sage, almost forgotten despite taking over three-quarters of the table with the watch he's deconstructed, suddenly snaps his head up with a hiss of what I think might be outrage. I've never heard him make a sound like that before. "Someone's trying to break into my ship."