Tangled in Moonlight: Unshifted (Ava and Lucas)

Chapter 207 Ava: Falling Again

"If you want your throat torn out and your blood sucked dry, keep thrashing like a dead fish."

Jericho's lovely training flavor assaults my ears in a way that's way too comforting, considering the vitriol that comes out of his mouth.

"I like fish," I pant, giving up for a second. Lucas was right. Jericho's been drilling me on falls again.

This time, my arms and legs are tied.

Because, apparently, "I need practice."

Pretty sure Jericho's an old sadist, but at least he chose bodyguards who don't snicker and smirk the entire time they see their charge getting battered and bruised. Or, in this particular case, flopping like a fish.

Gritting my teeth, I thrash against the ropes digging into my wrists and ankles, chafing my skin raw. They'll be healed by tonight, but for now, it hurts like hell.

"Bend your knees!" Jericho barks. "Roll onto your side and use the momentum to sit up. Then bring your feet under you."

Easy for him to say. He's not the one trussed up like a turkey. After far too long on my back, half-convinced my true identity is a turtle, I manage to flop onto my side, panting. Blades of grass tickle my cheek. From this vantage point, I can see Selene sprawled in front of a portable fan, tail wagging lazily. Traitor.

It isn't even that hot outside. Everyone's just worried about her because she's a husky, like they aren't wolves themselves who understand that she's just fine in this mild weather. All because she pants a lot.

She's milking it—but no one will believe me.

With a grunt, I rock back and forth until I gain enough momentum to heave myself into a sitting position. "Well, at least you haven't tied me to a chair," I mutter under my breath.

Jericho's keen ears pick up on it anyway. "That's next week's lesson." The sadistic glee in his voice makes me shudder.

picturing the bruises those sessions will paint across my

him ideas, Selene remarks dryly

mouth shut this time. Bending my knees, I wriggle and strain, trying to get my feet underneath me so I can stand. My muscles scream in protest, sweat dripping into

thought I was getting more athletic and in shape, but right now I feel like a tied-up sausage

out from her perch,

Especially Selene, who admitted last night that Mrs. Elkins has

break right now. An ice cold glass of soda, ten minutes in the

Nope, not happening.

E," I wheeze, even as my abs quiver

Selene accuses. You forget I can feel your

trying to concentrate here. I know she means well, but

screwing with me,

I'm screwing with you.

I knew it.

I wish she'd read the room. Or the training yard, as it were. Granted, we're

is, there's no way I'm tapping out now,

the ground, grunting with the effort. My thighs tremble and my hamstrings burn, threatening to give out yet again. For a precarious second, I

hands still tied behind my back, my

nods, something almost resembling approval flashing in his eyes. "Better. Now hop over to that oak

tree in question—a good twenty yards away, across

He can't be serious.

making a 'get on with it'

trying not to picture what I must look like. Some deranged cross between a bunny and a worm, probably. Each hop jars my

almost fall over, and I'm positive sheer force of will and a lucky breeze keeps me