Tangled in Moonlight: Unshifted novel Chapter 387

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 I 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 I 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, I ask, "How am I supposed to handle this? The purification usually takes over once I 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 I can’t stop?"

You must. His mental voice carries an edge of steel. Or the taint will consume you as surely as it’s consumed everything else.

The dead earth crunches beneath my feet as I 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 I cut it off when it gets to be too much?"

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

I press my lips together, frustrated. It isn’t that I 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 I force myself to stay upright. The taint wants in—wants to corrupt my magic the way it’s corrupted everything else.

"If I fail—"

You won’t. Grimoire looks up at me with 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 I sink down. My palms press against the ashen ground, and a shudder ripples through me at the wrongness of it. No life, no essence, just emptiness where nature should thrive.

"Start small," I 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 I could do without; my body tries to reject it, but the flow won’t stop.