Tangled in Moonlight: Unshifted (Ava and Lucas)

Chapter 187

Chapter 187 Lisa: Fae Blessed

LISA

Eternity is a bitch.

That's the conclusion I've come to, after being locked in this room.

Living forever, with nothing ever changing? That's enough to drive anyone crazy. No wonder that asshole vampire is the way he is.

Sometimes, I think I've been awake for days; other times, I think I've been asleep for longer. My meals don't seem to come at any consistent time, and Marisol's temper fluctuates every time I see her.

Today, she's cold, nearly throwing the tray in my direction.

Cold soup splatters. The strawberries look wilted. Still, no utensils to make my life easier.

At this point, I'm used to the filth of living here, and even the disgrace of utilizing a waste bucket.

Still, compared to before…

It's pretty good.

That crazy vampire hasn't returned, and I'm never going to complain about his absence.

It's as if Marisol can read my mind, because she suddenly says, sounding childish and petulant, "Master's been searching for a friend for you."

A wilted chunk of strawberry drops from my fingers, gathering dirt as it rolls across the stone floor. "A friend?"

My heart rate increases drastically as I think of Ava.

"A unicorn," she sneers.

Unicorn?

have my wrists rubbed raw and bleeding, with no clothes, by an insane vampire—I probably shouldn't be so skeptical at the idea of

that very human side of me

"A real unicorn?"

a bratty way, and a part of me wonders

I miss them.

to think

Fae-blessed human. Like yourself." She points to

offered, and I straighten, my food forgotten in my

grabbing my left breast, pulling it up and poking beneath it with one

at her touch. My skin crawls, though she clearly has no prurient

dark amusement, her green eyes sharp as they take in my every

like the girl I met for the first time. Then she was

her eye and a devious curve to her lips. She's harder, harsher, and

like this Marisol very

bruises. Her skin is clear and unblemished, though still sickly, with that odd

it a reaction to his

be friendly. Her head tilts at an unnatural angle, her eyes not blinking as they hold my

fingers tremble as I lift my breast, peering at the underside. There's nothing there except the birthmark I've always had—an irregularly shaped patch

genetics, something that made me unique. My mother used to joke that

tongue, a sharp sound in the stillness of the room. "You must feel

drips with a strange mix of envy and derision that makes

you talking about?" I demand, crossing my arms across my chest for the little bit of privacy it allows me. The sudden movement makes the chains rattle. "What blessing? What

her green eyes cold and flat as glass. "Are you finished with

change in subject catches me off guard. I glance down at the sad little meal congealing on the tray. My stomach twists, though

I snap, "I'm not finished. And you didn't answer my question. What do you mean, blessing? What does this—" I gesture to

like she's debating with herself, some internal struggle

just turns away, no longer

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