Unshift

272 Ava: Self–Care

“Ava?”

My eyes snap open, heart racing as I jolt upright in the armchair. Kellan’s face swims into focus, his brows pulled together with concern. For a moment, I’m disoriented, the remnants of a dream clinging to the edges of my consciousness.

*I… what happened?” I mumble, rubbing my eyes. The cottage comes into focus around me, and I remember where I am.

Fell asleep on the armchair while meditating. Oops.

Kellan crouches beside me, his voice low. “You fell asleep here. Are you okay?”

My neck is stiff from the awkward position. Rolling my shoulders, I try to work out the kink. “How long was I out?”

“If you went to bed as soon as I left, it’s been about four hours.”

I guess that’s fine. Daylight is streaming through the windows, so I hop out of the chair with

excitement. “Can we see Lucas?”

Kellan holds up a hand. “Whoa, slow down. Visiting hours don’t start for a couple more hours. I brought you some clothes and breakfast.” He jerks a finger behind him at the table. “Figured you’d want a shower and to get…” He waves his hands vaguely over his body. “Presentable.”

Oh.

That’s a good idea, too.

“Thanks.”

“I’ll get you when it’s time.” Giving my shoulder an awkward pat, he adds, “Don’t forget to eat. I have a few things to do, but I’ll be here on time, okay?”

“Got it.”

The shower is amazing.

Hot water. Soap. Shampoo and conditioner that smell like peaches.

Clean clothes. They’re kind of large and hang off my frame like I’m a hobo, but hey. I’m a dirt–free hobo.

The tangles in my hair were horrific, but a lot of yanking and a sore scalp later, my blonde tresses hang free and wild with a bit of natural curl and a lot of frizz. Unfortunately, my hair products are in the Fae Ward with my suitcase.

Oh, well.

The aroma of coffee and bacon fills my nostrils, but my appetite is nowhere to be found. Sitting at the small table by the window, I wrap my hands around the warm mug, accepting its heat in lieu of ite caffeine & haron–and–por candurich cite untouched

12:43

(272 Ava: Self–Care

My stomach is fluttering, making it hard to even think about eating,

Beyond the cabins of the compound, rolling hills stretch as far as the eye can see. In the light of dawn, it’s beautiful and golden.

Peaceful.

Serene.

Nothing like the chaos inside me.

Lucas.

The thought of him lying in a hospital bed, injured and without his memories, sends a sharp pain through my chest. I take a sip of coffee, hoping the bitter liquid will ground me, but it does little to ease the worry gnawing at my insides.

What if he doesn’t remember me at all? What if the bond we share means nothing to him now? If the wolves can’t seem to connect with him as alpha, does that mean our bond as mates is also null to him right now?

The questions swirl in my mind, each one more terrifying than the last.

I force myself to take a bite of the sandwich, knowing I’ll need my strength for whatever comes next. The flavors barely register as I chew mechanically, my thoughts a million miles away.

The compound seems eerily quiet from where I sit. No pack members running about, no sounds of training or daily life. It’s as if the entire world is holding its breath, waiting for something to happen. Or maybe that’s just me, projecting my own anxiety onto my surroundings.

Then again, we’re in the middle of the apocalypse, so there’s that…

My fingers trace the condensation on the window, forming abstract patterns that remind me of the runes I’ve been studying. Magic. Another complication in an already complex situation. I close my eyes, trying to sense that elusive string of power within me, but it remains frustratingly

out of reach.

I really want that book.

Shoving my coffee and plate away, I focus inward, drawing on the well of power I’ve become intimately familiar with since my stay in the Fae Ward.

A small flame flickers to life above my palm, warmth tickling my skin. It comes easily now, a

testament to the endless hours of practice with Magister Orion. There’s no fight or struggle to

pull the magic into circulation within my body. It’s almost as easy as breathing to summon it.

I summon a second flame. Then a third. They hover above my hand, each no larger than a candle’s flicker. Keeping them uniform in size takes more concentration than I’d like to admit.

Setting them into a small circular revolution, I focus on maintaining their shape and trajectory. Sweat beads on my forehead, a physical manifestation of the mental effort required. It’s like juggling, but with fire and willpower instead of balls.

One full revolution. The flames dance in perfect harmony, mirroring each other’s movements. A small victory, but one that fills me with a sense of accomplishment.

272 Ava: Self–Care

But this isn’t the time or place for magical experiments. With a thought, I extinguish each flame. in quick succession. They wink out of existence, leaving behind only the faintest wisp of smoke and the lingering scent of sulfur.

The last thing I need is to draw attention to my abilities here.

A knock at the door startles me from my thoughts. Kellan’s head pokes through the opening.

“You ready to go?”

“Ready!”

Hopping out of the chair, I rush to the door with a smile, trying to hide the anxiety fluttering in my belly. “Let’s go.

Hopefully the same receptionist isn’t working. Whatever she’s heard, it’s enough to bias her against me.

Two guards–unfamiliar and different from the night before–fall into step behind us without a word. I really need to do a full meet and greet of all my bodyguards so I can recognize their faces and put names to them.

“Stay positive,” Kellan says, despite the worry creasing his brows.