Page 56 of Fool Moon First Aid

The fae inspector’s assurance that we’re compliant brings temporary relief, but Eloise’s revelation that my father reported us sends a shiver down my spine.

“Why now?” I wonder aloud, the question hanging heavily in the air.

Brody remains silent through it all, his presence a steady anchor in the chaos of my thoughts. When I finally turn to him, seeking something, anything, he simply asks, “When is dinner with your father?”

“About that…”

Brody

The urge to protect her, to keep her safe until she’s healed, is strong, but I know it wouldn’t be right to hold her against her will. Ava, highlighted by the soft morning light, seems more vulnerable than ever, yet there’s an undeniable strength in her gaze.

“Talk to me,” I say softly, hoping she understands how much I need to hear her voice right now.

Ava looks at me, her eyes deep and insightful, reflecting the dim light in a way that mesmerizes me. Despite the tranquility of the dawn around us, her presence stirs emotions in me, reawakening feelings I thought I had long buried. Her mix of innocence and allure pulls me in, and I find myself captivated.

She sighs deeply, as if she’s carrying the world on her shoulders, and closes her eyes for a moment, gathering her strength. Then, with a graceful movement that belies the chaos inside her, she leans back and holds her coffee cup closely, offering a fleeting glimpse of her leg that tempts me to lose focus.

“My dad called me yesterday,” she starts, her voice holding a mix of resilience and softness that draws me back from my wandering thoughts.

“That’s not unusual, is it?” I try to keep the conversation light, adjusting the breakfast tray between us and deciding to risk a breakfast taco, despite the potential mess.

“No, it’s not,” she says, her expression clouded with worry for a moment. “After Mom passed, he’s been finding comfort in the community.”

“The church?” I prompt gently, helping her navigate her thoughts.

“Yes,” she confirms, her voice quiet but strong. “The men there…they put on a polite front, but something about them just feels off, as if they’re not to be trusted.”

Her words make me smile, not because of the situation, but because of her ability to find humor, even now. “You do have a way with words,” I encourage, hoping to lift her spirits a bit.

“After Mom passed, everything changed. Dad… It’s like he’s become one of them, or maybe I just started seeing through them,” Ava continues, her playful tone masking deeper pain.

I feel a protective urge surge within me, wanting to shield her from any more pain. “It sounds like you’re seeing things for what they really are now.”

She nods, looking away. “He insisted on having dinner this Wednesday. It was strange. He’s never been that insistent before. He’s always been more patient with me than with anyone else.”

“What do you think this dinner is about?” Concern tugs at me, sensing there’s more to this than just a family meal.

Ava hesitates, then drops a bombshell. “He plans to marry me to Elijah Castellon.”

A surge of anger and an instinctual need to protect bubble up inside me. I struggle to maintain my composure, not wanting to frighten Ava with my reaction.

She looks at me, her expression a mix of disbelief and defiance. “Yeah, I had the same shocked expression. I’m twenty-seven, not some chess piece he can move at his whim. I told him we’re not living in the Middle Ages, but there he was, acting like he had every right.”

The anger within me sends tremors through our pack bond, and instantly, Ethan and Tyler are with me, their concerns sharp in my mind. Tyler’s worry feels like a soothing balm, while Ethan’s steady presence helps me find my footing amid the chaos.

Is Ava all right? Tyler’s voice, though only in my head, carries his usual soothing quality.

Ethan’s voice, firm and authoritative, cuts in. What happened?

As the rage within me threatens to overflow, I make a quick decision. How tied up are you? I ask, probing the waters before diving into the depths of shared consciousness—a rarity among our kind, because it puts us into a vulnerable position.

Ethan’s response is immediate. Just at the station, grabbing breakfast, he says, his solid presence reassuring me.

Share my consciousness. This conversation requires our unity, I assert, inviting them into the sanctum of my thoughts—a place where every hidden fear and whispered dream is exposed. The gravity of this act is not lost on me. It is a bond forged in the fires of absolute trust.

Ava’s gaze catches the subtle shift in me. “You’re connecting with the others, aren’t you?” she asks, a touch of irritation hidden behind her casual sip of coffee. “Might as well. It saves me the trouble of explaining twice.”

As Ethan and Tyler blend into my consciousness, the sensation is akin to merging streams into a single river—seamless yet profound. This ability allows them to hear my thoughts, see through my eyes, feel my emotions, and walk in my memories.

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