Entangling the Web

Villainous Press Copyright © 2023 Ally Patra All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, scanning, or otherwise without written permission from the publisher. It is illegal to copy this book, post it to a website, or distribute it by any other means without permission. This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental. First edition, 2023 ISBN 978-1-7379850-2-0 Published by Villainous Press Cover design © Fantastical Ink To my husband— There’s no one else I’d rather run kicking and screaming through the woods with. Table of Contents Title Page Copyright Prologue Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 Chapter 21 Chapter 22 Chapter 23 Chapter 24 Chapter 25 Chapter 26 Chapter 27 Chapter 28 Chapter 29 Chapter 30 Chapter 31 Chapter 32 Chapter 33 Chapter 34 Chapter 35 Chapter 36 Chapter 37 Chapter 38 Chapter 39 Chapter 40 Chapter 41 Chapter 42 Chapter 43 Chapter 44 Chapter 45 Chapter 46 Chapter 47 Chapter 48 Chapter 49 Chapter 50 Chapter 51 Chapter 52 Chapter 53 Chapter 54 Chapter 55 Chapter 56 Chapter 57 Chapter 58 Chapter 59 Chapter 60 Chapter 61 Chapter 62 Chapter 63 Chapter 64 Chapter 65 Chapter 66 Chapter 67 Chapter 68 Epilogue Chloe Epilogue Alex Acknowledgements Coming Soon About the Author Prologue I glanced around the messy cottage and jerked a hand through my hair. Shit. I’d planned to bring Chloe to the guest house as soon as possible and spend as much time with her as I could, but it had already been a week since I’d last seen her. She needed space to catch up on her coursework, and I . . . I had to focus on getting this place in order. By the time we’d made it to the hospital, I was wasting away. When I got home, I’d gone on a binge-eating spree and consumed two weeks’ worth of calories. I’d done nothing but eat and sleep since I’d gotten home. My metabolism was too fast under the best conditions, and healing required a lot of energy, as did shifting forms. I’d regain my weight and muscle in no time, but . . . There were piles of takeout boxes everywhere. I’d covered the floor with them, the countertops, and they’d spilled over into my bedroom. My fridge was empty. Did I even own a full set of tableware, much less a spoon? I couldn’t bring her here yet—no way in hell. No one had done anything important or productive while I was away, either. My mother had stayed locked in her room and drowned herself in whiskey—no surprise there. And Liv? She hadn’t touched a single bill or checked the mailbox, for fuck’s sake. She was angry at me for leaving. My sister had dodged me for five days straight, glaring at me every time she breezed past me in the halls of the main house, and . . . honestly? I was lonely. If Liv was mad, couldn’t she at least be upset in the same room as me? I hadn’t seen her in over a month. I sighed. I was alone with a stack of overdue notices and a voicemail full of angry messages. I’d avoided having a cellphone for many reasons—most of them being that I never wanted to hear from anyone. Except if I got to talk to Chloe, then it was worth the aggravation. The phone buzzed, vibrating an empty pizza box. I grabbed it. Chloe, 6:58 P.M. Finally done with classes. I miss you. We’d fallen into a routine. Sweet messages in the morning, a little flirting around lunchtime, and some photos in the afternoon. It all changed when the sun set. She was anxious every night. I didn’t know what she’d gone through when she was alone in the woods. By the time I’d regenerated and found my way back to her, she was covered in blood and minutes from death. But she’d held on, as she’d done without me for two days and two nights, and she survived. Chloe was a fighter. She never backed down from me while we were lost out there together, and in the end, she’d faced Marco alone. I’d never forgive myself for my mistakes—for not being able to protect her when she needed me the most. But she never mentioned it, never blamed me, never complained. I admired how eager she was to move forward—to put one foot in front of the other. And this time, I’d be there to help her when she stumbled . . . If I could get my shit together. I kicked a plastic takeout box toward the door with a sigh. I’d told everybody not to bother me—including the housekeeper—and they listened. Everyone always listened. But all I wanted was the one person who never took a single thing I said seriously. Alex, 6:58 P.M. What are you doing right now? She replied with a photo of herself wearing a lacy pink bra and nothing else. A loose strap fell down her shoulder. God, I loved it when she was bold. Steam clouded the bathroom in her apartment, and her lips were curled into a smirk. I wanted to taste them. I made a noise like a groan of pain. Not being able to touch her was killing me. I could remember the way she smelled, like strawberries and wildflowers, and I’d do anything to get her in my bed and spread her scent across my sheets and pillowcases. I was hard just thinking about it. Chloe, 7:03 P.M. I guess you