Tangled in Moonlight: Unshifted - Chapter 473

Chapter 473: Lisa: Normal For Us
LISA

I spend the entire walk to the hospital trying to convince myself this isn’t insane. But really, what’s one more wild decision in my life right now? I’ve already been kidnapped by vampires, developed magical powers (okay—not really, I can just use magical items), and fallen in love with a werewolf. Choosing to solidify a fated mate bond is practically mundane at this point, right?

But it still feels crazy.

This must be the wedding jitter cold feet I’ve heard about.

Huh. Weddings. Maybe this is why it feels so unreal. No white dress, no big ceremony, no family…

Mom and Dad would want to be here for this.

No. I told myself a long time ago I wouldn’t think of them. Every time I do…

Ugh. No. Don’t do it.

Before you ask; yeah, I’d call their phone numbers… but I don’t know them. Hello, speed dial, you awful and convenient crutch.

Okay. No more thinking about Mom or Dad or weddings. Nope. Game face on, Lisa Randall. You’re about to propose to a werewolf.

I pause outside his room, my fingertips resting against the door. My heart pounds in my ears. It’s not fear, exactly. Just the weight of what I’m about to offer.

My entire self. My absolute trust. My future.

When I push the door open, I expect to see Kellan asleep. Maybe sitting up, but probably asleep.

What I don’t expect is the absolute stone-cold expression on his face.

“Hey,” I say, plastering on a smile. It quickly falters when he simply nods and turns to stare at a wall.

His body language screams tension—jaw tight, shoulders stiff, arms crossed.

I approach the bed cautiously, like I’m walking toward a bomb that might go off. “How are you feeling?”

“Fine.” One word. Clipped. Distant.

Okay…

What the hell? I mentally scan through the last few hours, trying to figure out what I could’ve possibly done to piss him off in the short time I’ve been gone.

Can’t figure it out.

All I can think of is the sex, but I mean—I was perfectly content with going down on the guy. He’s the one who put his dick in. Therefore, the sex isn’t my fault. Right?

… or is it?

I try again. “You look like you’re doing better.” He does, too. More color in his cheeks… I think. Hard to tell when he isn’t looking my way at all.

He grunts.

Okay, that’s it. I cross my arms over my chest. “Why are you mad at me?”

“I’m not mad.” His voice is flat, completely devoid of emotion, which is how I know he’s absolutely lying. My bullshit-o-meter’s in the red.

“Liar.”

That, at least, gets a reaction. His eyes snap to mine, flashing silver for a brief second before returning to their normal gray. He sits up straighter, and I can almost feel his wolf simmering beneath his skin.

“You want to know what’s wrong?” he finally asks.

“No, I’d rather play twenty questions while the world burns down around us.” I roll my eyes. “Yes, I want to know what’s wrong.”

He takes a deep breath. “You showered.”

I wait for more, but apparently that’s it. His entire reason for the ice-cold treatment.

“…yes?” I tilt my head in confusion.

“I told you I wanted them to smell me on you.”

My mouth falls open as understanding dawns. This isn’t about me sneaking off when he was sleeping or us going too far with sex while he’s recovering. It’s all wolf bullshit. His scent on me. Which I washed off. Because I was dirty.

Sex, if you didn’t know, is dirty. Filthy. Total mess. Showers are practically mandatory.

“I can’t just go around smelling like your,” I drop my voice to a scandalized hiss, “semen, Kellan.”

“That’s normal for us, Lisa.” He says this with complete seriousness, like I’m the weird one for not wanting to parade around a supernatural compound with eau de wolf sex clinging to my skin.

“No. Absolutely not.”

“Yes. Absolutely yes.”

Jesus Christ. I’m about to offer him my entire soul, and the man is pouting over dick-scent. How is this my life? How am I supposed to have a serious conversation about interspecies magical bonding when he’s acting like I threw out his favorite toy?

I press my fingers to my temples, feeling a headache coming on. “Please tell me you’re joking. You’re actually upset because I wanted to be clean when I talked to your friends and packmates?”

The corner of his mouth twitches down. Just barely. But I catch it.

“Oh, my God.” I drop my hands. “You’re—you’re such an oversized puppy. This is what you’re fixating on? Really?”

A small smile finally breaks through. “I like when you smell like me.”

“You like when I smell like sex with you.”

“Same thing.” He shrugs.

Against my better judgment, I feel my own lips curving upward. “You’re ridiculous.”

“You washed away my claim.” But there’s less heat in it now, more of a gentle teasing.

I roll my eyes and move to sit on the edge of his bed, careful not to bump his injured side. “What, you want me to bottle it? Market it as Eau de Kellan?” I even sound out his name like the French might say it.

Or not. I don’t know how they’d pronounce his name. I don’t speak French.

“Don’t tempt me,” he deadpans, but his eyes have returned to their warm gray. His hand finds mine, fingers thread together, and just like that, the tension dissolves.

I laugh, shaking my head. “You wolves and your territorial bullshit.”

“It’s not bullshit.”

“It’s a little bit bullshit.”

He smiles—a real smile this time, reaching his eyes. I’m struck again by how handsome he is, even in a hospital bed with his hair sticking up at odd angles.

The joking fades, and I feel a weight settle in my chest. This is it. The moment I tell him what I’ve decided.

I take a deep breath. “I went to talk to Ava about something important.”

His expression shifts, suddenly more alert. “What is it?”

“I’ve been thinking about… us. About this bond we have.” My fingers fidget with the edge of his blanket. “The vampires who attacked us—I was able to resist because of you. Because of what’s between us. The thread I could feel.”

Kellan goes perfectly still, the way he does when he’s processing something. Maybe it’s a wolf thing, I don’t know. It’s just this absolute cessation of movement, where sometimes I wonder if they’re even breathing.

Sometimes I want to wave my hand in front of their faces to see if they blink. I don’t, because I’m an adult who would never, but I think about it sometimes.

“I want the bond,” I blurt out. “But not just for safety. Not because of the Mad Prince. Because I choose you.” My confession feels like that kid’s cartoon with the balls and the monsters, so I switch it up hastily. “I choose us.”

Hmm. Not much better. Really ruining the romantic proposal.

His grip on my hand tightens. “Lisa—”

“No, let me finish.” I need to get this all out before I lose my nerve. “I know it might not work. I know I’m human, and I’ve got this—this vampire compulsion thing hanging over me. But our connection gave me strength when I needed it most. It let me fight back when I should have been powerless.”

My eyes burn with unshed tears, but I refuse to look away from him. “Even if it doesn’t work. Even if I’m too broken. I still want you. I want everyone to know I choose you. I’m yours, and you’re mine, for better or worse, for richer or poorer—oh. I should probably let you know I’ve never held down a job for more than minimum wage, so we’re definitely screwed on the money front. Unless I inherit—”

Damn. My parents. Now the tears really want to fall. I blink them back hard. “—uh, win the lottery.”

Kellan raises his free hand to cup my cheek, his thumb brushing away a tear. The traitorous thing must have fallen while I was blinking.

“You’re not broken,” he says fiercely, even though it’s an absolute lie. “And I want you too. All of you.”

“Then let’s do it. Let’s try the bond.” The words come out stronger than I feel, but I mean every one of them. “I’m ready.”

He goes still again. His eyes search mine for what feels like eternity.

“Are you sure?”

I nod. “Try me.”