Tangled in Moonlight: Unshifted (Ava and Lucas)

Chapter 387 Ava: Corrupted Whispers

The snow ends in a perfect line, as if someone took an eraser to the landscape. Beyond that boundary, the earth

lies bare and lifeless. No grass, no moss, not even the hardy winter plants that usually peek through frozen

ground. The soil itself looks wrong—ashen and cracked, like the bottom of a dried riverbed.

"I've never seen it this bad." My boots crunch on the dead earth. Each step sends up little puffs of gray dust.

"Even the insects are gone."

The corruption is absolute here. Grimoire's fox form prowls beside me. It's consumed everything.

My bodyguards hang back at my insistence, though | sense their unease. Marcus keeps shifting his weight,

uneasy despite his experience in these matters.

A wave of corruption rolls over me, and my stomach heaves. The taint feels different here—thicker, more

concentrated. Like wading through tar instead of water. The dead zone stretches as far as | can see, pulsing with

that sickly energy.

To the wolves, they only see dead land. But it's so much more than that.

Glancing at Grimoire, who's focused on the corruption, | ask, "How am | supposed to handle this? The purification

usually takes over once | start. I've never had to stop it before."

It's about will and control. You must maintain awareness of your limits.

"That's not exactly helpful." The corruption beckons, a seductive whisper promising power. I've felt it before, but

never this strong. "What happens if | can't stop?"

You must. His mental voice carries an edge of steel. Or the taint will consyou as surely as it's consumed

everything else.

The dead earth crunches beneath my feet as | take another step forward. The boundary between life and death

is so stark—winter's white giving way to corruption's gray.

"I need specifics, Grimoire. How do | cut it off when it gets to be too much?"

The sway you control any magic—through force of will. You must remain conscious of your boundaries.

| press my lips together, frustrated. It isn't that | don't understand what he's saying, it's just that it's so freaking

vague.

The corruption pulses again, stronger this time. My knees buckle, but | force myself to stay upright. The taint

wants in—wants to corrupt my magic the way it's corrupted everything else.

"If | fail—"

You won't. Grimoire looks up atwith his unearthly fox eyes. But you must start small. Don't try to purify

everything at once.

I'll call you back if you get lost, Selene adds, whining softly. She's far back, too, and hating the distance I've

forced her to keep.

The dead earth crumbles beneath my knees as | sink down. My palms press against the ashen ground, and a

shudder ripples throughat the wrongness of it. No life, no essence, just emptiness where nature should

thrive.

"Start small," | whisper to myself. "Just a tiny piece."

I can do this.

My magic surges forth before I finish the thought, eager and hungry. The corruption rushes in—thick, viscous,

choking. My stomach revolts as the taint floods my system. Acid burns up my throat.

"No." The word comes out as a gasp between heaves. "Too much."

The corruption keeps coming, drawn to my magic like a magnet. It tastes of rot and decay, filling my mouth with

the flavor of death. It's a new experience | could do without; my body tries to reject it, but the flow won't stop.

Another wave of nausea hits. | double over, one hand pressed to my mouth, the other still connected to the dead

earth. The purification process has never felt like this before—never been this violent.

Pull back.

| need to pull back.

But my magic refuses to listen. It wants to consall the corruption, cleanse every inch of tainted earth. The

flow increases, and black spots dance across my vision.

Ava! Grimoire's voice cuts through the haze. Focus. You must control it.

My arms shake as | fight to stay upright. Sweat drips down my face despite the winter chill. The corruption pulses

through me, each wave bringing fresh nausea.

"| can't—" Another heave wracks my body. "It won't stop."

It will if you make it. Grimoire's mental voice carries steel. You are stronger than the corruption. Prove it.

The taint whispers seductively, promising power if | just let go. Let it in. Let it conseverything. My magic

reaches for more, eager to purify, to cleanse. Like two sets of personalities inside of me.

My stomach lurches again. Tears stream down my face as | retch, the taste of bile mixing with corruption's decay.

But | keep my hand pressed to the earth, stubborn despite my body's rejection.

Small.

Think small, damn it.

Don't let it all in at once.

Focus narrows to a single patch of ground beneath my palm. Not the whole field. Not the endless stretch of

corruption. Just this one spot. This one tiny piece of earth.

My body shakes with the effort of restraining my magic, of forcing it to pull back when it wants to surge forward.

The corruption fights me, clinging to every scrap of power it can reach, as if it knows it can overpower my

purification.

Like it's alive.

Another wave of nausea hits, and | gag on nothing. My throat burns. My chest aches. But | hold that focus—that

single point of contact where my hand meets earth.

The corruption surges past my defenses, a tidal wave of rot that floods my senses. My magic reaches for it,

desperate to purify, to cleanse—but there's too much. Far too much.

"No." The word comes out as a strangled gasp.

The world tilts sideways. My body hits the dead earth, and the contact only makes it worse. Corruption pours in

through every pore, every breath. The taste of decay fills my mouth, coats my tongue. My stomach heaves, but

nothing comes up.

Dark whispers fill my mind. Power thrums through my veins, intoxicating and terrible. The corruption promises

everything—strength, control, dominion over life and death. All | have to do is let go. Let it in.

My magic pulses with eagerness, reaching for more. The corruption responds, surging forward until | can't tell

where it ends and | begin.

Ava! Selene's mental scream pierces the darkness. Cback!

But the corruption's call is stronger. Sweet. Seductive. It showsvisions of what | could become—a being of

pure power, unconstrained by mortal limits. | could protect everyone. Save everyone.

Rule everyone.

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