Tangled in Moonlight: Unshifted (Ava and Lucas)

Chapter 159

Chapter 159 Lisa: Enthralled (III)

My thigh burns.

It's an odd ache between desire and pain. I itch, rub, and scratch, but those two perfect, circular punctures remain in the skin, though no blood seeps out.

It took so long for the desire he'd forced into me to dissipate, leaving my body feeling more like me again. The power he has to overcome my natural revulsion is terrifying, and I spend way too much time dreaming up horrible scenarios in which I'm used as a sex slave to a vampire.

Though, he didn't seem to have much interest in the actual sex aspect, outside of… how did he say it?

Oh, yeah.

Flavoring.

The word makes me shudder. He's going to drain me of every drop of blood one day.

And no matter how long I sit here, I have no ideas on how to fight back.

What would Ava do in this situation? I can't believe she would sit here and let it happen to her. She'd fight back somehow, right?

But…

Ava isn't exactly human, either.

Maybe once, but not anymore.

Shivering in the cold, I roll carefully to my other side, using my clothing scraps as a barrier between my skin and stone.

I can't wear them. May as well lay on them.

My body aches in ways I never thought possible. The frigid temperature of the floor seeps through my bones, an insidious chill that refuses to abate no matter how tightly I curl in on myself.

Manacles chafe against my wrists and ankles. I tug at them with a weak yank every so often, knowing it's futile but unable to resist. The metal is unyielding, the chains too strong for my human strength to break.

give

to the belief that I'll

But how?

scrap of knowledge I have about vampires. It's not much, just bits and pieces gleaned from movies and

them really

not

of them mentioned how they're cold, either. So

caress of winter itself. But after he drank from me, after he'd taken what he

weak in the aftermath? It makes a twisted sort of sense, a parasitic existence that feeds off the

then maybe there's a way to use it against him. If I can make myself too cold to be appealing, too frigid to

No. That's stupid.

from that

I won't die from

deep breath, ignoring the way my lungs protest the damp, musty air. Slowly, painfully, I force myself to sit up, the chains clanking with every movement. My muscles scream in protest, but I grit my

shouldn't hurt this much. Is it the cold? Is it from something he did when he fed off

just pain from laying on the stone

with my limbs bound as they are. But I can move. My body stretches, twists,

things get a little

range of motion, focusing on stretching and using my body weight to create

Stay strong.

Stay focused.

back if I just give

out. Each exhale is a little deeper, a little louder as my heart rate picks up. I can feel the warmth

in this dismal place. Any small victory

scrape of stone against stone shatters the trance, every muscle in my body tensing. The hairs on the back of my neck prickle as dread

the farthest corner as the echoing footsteps grow louder. My mind races, desperately grasping for anything I can use as a weapon, a means of defense this time. I will not be a helpless victim

nose wrinkle. An acrid tang underlies the ever-present must,

as the stone wall groans and slides open, scraping

It's not the vampire.

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