Tangled in Moonlight: Unshifted (Ava and Lucas)

Chapter 98 Ava: Life in Westwood (III)

After several rounds of Jericho demanding we attack him, only for us to end up on the ground with new bruises every time, I collapse onto the dusty ground, chest heaving, lungs screaming for air. Sweat pours down my face, stinging my eyes. Lisa lies beside me, equally drenched, her breath coming in ragged gasps.

Jericho looms over us, his scarred face impassive. "Pathetic. You'd be dead the moment a wolf looked at you wrong."

I glare up at him, too winded to retort. He jerks his head, motioning for us to rise. "On your feet. Follow me."

Somehow, I stagger upright, my muscles trembling with exhaustion. Lisa groans as she pushes herself up, her face flushed and hair plastered to her forehead.

Jericho leads us to the track, his stride purposeful. "You're so weak, you'd probably break your necks running through the woods. From now on, five miles around this track every morning."

I gape at him, but he's not finished. He rattles off a list of exercises—push-ups, sit-ups, something called burpees, some lunges that I'm not entirely certain how to do without a visual—that we'll be doing daily to build strength. Lisa makes a noise of despair beside me.

Jericho's piercing gaze finds mine. "Alpha Westwood will be gone at least another month dealing with the Blackwood situation. Don't expect him to swoop in and save you."

Something hot and defiant rises in my chest. I lift my chin, meeting his stare head-on. "I wouldn't want to be saved anyway."

For the first time, a hint of a smile tugs at Jericho's lips. "You've got guts, girl. Maybe there's hope for you yet."

Lisa stares at the track, dejection dripping from her pores. "How many times do we have to go around for five miles?"

I shrug, just as clueless. "No idea."

Jericho scoffs, his lip curling in disdain. I'm starting to think that's his default look. "Unbelievable. You two are so sheltered you don't even know how to track distance."

It's not like I've had much opportunity for extracurricular sports, what with being locked away in a pack that didn't see any point in allowing any enrichment in my life.

knowing any excuses will only earn me another scathing

plants her hands on her hips, glaring at Jericho. "Well, excuse us for not being born with an innate knowledge of track and field. How about you enlighten us instead of

I think Jericho might actually snap at her. But then he barks out a laugh, shaking his head. "Fair enough. Twelve laps around this track is roughly five miles. And before you ask, yes, I expect

the red rubber seeming to stretch on forever. Twelve laps. My legs ache just thinking about it. But I straighten my spine, determined not to show weakness. If this is what it takes to become strong enough to protect myself, then so be

voice steadier than I feel. "Twelve laps it

approval flickering in his eyes. "Good. Now get to

air thick with humidity, but I push through the discomfort. Each step, each breath, is a reminder that I'm alive, that I

Stronger.

to

want to depend on anyone for rescue, ever

though we've gone

breath, my lungs burning as they expand to hold in what little air I manage

is inhuman," she pants,

a wheeze. Too much oxygen used, not enough coming in. "Shifters

only sound our labored breathing and the pounding of our feet against the track. I stumble. She stumbles. It's inelegant and I'm starting to

want a water break, and it's only been a minute since our feet hit

voice booms from behind us. "You call that running? My grandmother could outpace

harder, gasping at the effort. Jericho catches

diaphragm, not your chest. And land on the balls of

he doesn't even look at me to appreciate it. I

starting to

think he might

me, and Jericho's head