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186 Ava: Lucas, Short–Sighted

“A war would decimate our world,” Kellan says. “The vampires won’t take that risk. They’re outnumbered by our packs.”

“Outnumbered, yet they waltz into our lands as they please and have taken how many of our young lives?” Jericho counters. “Do you even know how many vampires are behind this? Is it one? Or several? And what do you hope the answer is?”

“One, of course-”

“And what are you going to do when only one vampire can breach your defenses so easily? Imagine when twenty of them join hands.”

Kellan’s mouth snaps closed, and Lucas growls in frustration. “You have something to say, old man. Spit it out.”

“You’ve been taking this threat too lightly. Too focused on your mate to see the forest for the trees. No vampire would do this for one little thrall. What do they hope to gain by antagonizing our pack?”

“They’re working with Renard. He’s always been out to increase hist land and power.”

Jericho’s gaze bores into Lucas, a withering stare that seems to strip away years of authority and experience, reducing my mate to nothing more than a foolish pup. The old wolf’s words slice.

through the tension like a razor, each syllable dripping with disdain.

“Why in the seven hells would vampires ever ally with an idiot like Renard?”

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The question hangs in the air, a challenge and an accusation all at ence. Lucas stiffens beside me at the challenge, but the old wolf isn’t finished.

“Not all vampires live in the Unregistered Communities,” Jericho reminds us, his tone sharp with impatience. “Only the ones who refused to submit to human oversight. If those cities are starting to fight back, we’re looking at a war on a national scale. It won’t be just Westwood’s problem anymore

A war between vampires and shifters, spilling out beyond the borders of our territories and into the human world? The thought alone is enough to make my blood run cold.

But Lucas isn’t ready to concede the point. “If that’s true,” he counters, “then why aren’t other packs reporting similar issues? Everything that’s happened so far can be traced back to Renard’s greed for Ava.”

“Until now.” Jericho jabs his thumb over his shoulder, out the window. “They took the bodies tonight. What does that have to do

with Renard or Ava?”

Lucas goes quiet, because we all know there’s no answer to that.

Jericho sighs and shakes his head. “You’re still young, Alpha. Too inexperienced. Keep your eyes and ears open, if you want to keep your people alive.”

***

It isn’t until Kellan and Jericho leave that the tension in the room. dissipates.

Lucas sits beside me, petting Selene with absent–minded strokes

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of his hand, oblivious to how her hackles raise at his touch.

Watching him process the events of tonight, the long arguments between the three men, I can see his exhaustion in the wrinkles around the corners of his eyes, the heavy set of his brow, and the tightness around his mouth. I can practically see the gears turning

in his mind.

The old Jericho is wise, Selene muses, her voice echoing through my mind. Lucas never took advantage of the resource right in front of him. He should have asked Jericho about his experiences with vampires.

The dynamic between the three of them is odd. Jericho seems. command respect from both the pack and Lucas himself, yet at times, he’s dismissed as nothing more than an old wolf. Kellan seems to despise him. What stories lie hidden there?

Selene’s curiosity mirrors my own.

to

It should all be set aside in order to work together against the enemy. Someone like Jericho should have been leading tonight. It is. odd, his place in the pack.

Lucas lets out a heavy sigh and reaches for me, pulling me into his lap and resting his chin atop my head. The warmth of his embrace envelops me, a momentary respite from the chaos of the night.

“Were you scared?” he asks softly, his breath tickling my ear. “When

Sister Miriam came?”

I hesitate, searching for the right words. “I was worried,” I admit, my voice barely above a whisper. “But I truly believe that Sister Miriam doesn’t mean us any immediate harm.”

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188 Avi Lucas, Short–Sighted

Lucas tenses, his arms tightening around me.

“She has a plan, though,” I continue, choosing my words carefully. “And I’m not sure if it’s a plan we should support. I don’t know what it means for our pack.”

“Everything’s falling apart,” Lucas mutters, his voice laced with. frustration. “My authority and strength is undermined with these attacks on our land.”

Twisting in his lap, I meet his gaze with a reassuring smile. “You’re doing great, Lucas. But maybe… Just maybe, you should listen to the people around you a little more. They have valuable insights and experiences, too.”

I don’t want to say Jericho’s name out loud, feeling like those waters are too deep for me to dip my toes into.

A flicker of amusement dances in his eyes, a brief respite from the gravity of our situation. “You just want to run headfirst into danger again, don’t you?”

Selene sneezes.

Shaking my head, my expression turns serious. “No, Lucas. I don’t want to go into danger. I’m starting to understand the immense responsibility you hold, the weight you carry as our alpha.”

The words tumble out of me, a confession long overdue, as I lower my gaze to his chest.

He’s still shirtless from his shifting, but our fated bond is quiet, content to let the gravity of the moment reign. It’s a relief to be close to him without desire muddling the thoughts in my head.

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180 Ava Luns, ShortSighted

Or is it because I’ve finally accepted the bond in its entirety? My place within the pack? The responsibilities of Luna?

“I’m sorry, Lucas. I’m sorry for my demands and for holding myself apart from the pack. As your mate, know I fall short. I haven’t been the partner you need, the Luna our pack deserves. I’ve been too self–centered and short–sighted.”

Tears prick at the corners of my eyes, but I refuse to cry.

I don’t want him to respond out of guilt for my emotions; I want him to hear my apology. Not shrug it off because he just wants me to be happy.

Lúcas cups my face, his calloused hands gentle against my skin. “Ava,” he whispers, his voice filled with understanding and love.. “You’re not falling short. You’re learning, growing. We both are.”

“No.” I push his hands from his face as gently as I can manage, though I thread our fingers together. No sense in having him think I’m pushing away or distancing myself. “Lucas, those people who died? That’s my fault. I should have known better, but I was too desperate and self–absorbed to see anything except what was in front of me. All I cared about was not being hurt again, or losing the independence I’d fought so hard for. There were other ways to deal with that situation, but I didn’t even try.”

Lucas rests his forehead against mine, his breath fanning across. my face. “I don’t want you to worry about these things, Ava.”.

I shake my head, determined to make him understand. “You have to stop treating me like glass, Lucas. I need to shoulder the responsibilities of the pack with you, or else we’ll never progress Dast where we are. And you’re right: I shouldn’t just run off and

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summen Sieter Muriam without telling you.” My lips quirk, and so do his. A moment of humor shared in this distressing day.

I know you want to keep me safe. But that doesn’t mean that sitting in my room and being protected is the only other option for my life”

A sigh escapes his lips, and he nods slowly. “I’ll try.”

“I don’t want to be brought into the pack until they’ve accepted me as Lama, either, I continue, my voice firm despite the racing of my heart. “I need to show them that I’m not the same person I was before. I don’t want them to feel I’m a choice that’s been shoved

down their throats.”

Lucas opens his mouth to protest, but I cover it with my hand, silencing him. “I already know how they feel about me, Lucas. I have a lot of growing to do.”

He kisses my hand, a faint smile playing on his lips. “Okay.”

He’s not really okay–I can see how little he likes that idea. Becoming pack is one step closer to completing our mating bond, and I’m pushing that off.

But I hope he understands that it isn’t him I’m avoiding.

This time, when I enter my pack, I want to do so with my head high, knowing I belong.

Knowing that they’ll have my back, and I’ll have theirs.

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