Tangled in Moonlight: Unshifted (Ava and Lucas)

Chapter 242 Lisa: Waking in Comfort

LISA

Waking up in a bed is too comfortable.

My brain wants to wake, but my body wants to keep sleeping.

If this comfort is little more than an elaborate trap before I'm murdered, just take me away. At least I'll be going in bliss.

A sharp poke in my side jolts me from my half-asleep musings. I crack open an eye, squinting against the sudden brightness. A face swims into view, so close I can count every wrinkle etched into leathery skin.

"Up! Up, you lazy girl!"

The voice is shrill, grating against my eardrums. I blink, trying to focus on the owner of that voice. It's a woman, impossibly small, with a nose so red it could guide Santa's sleigh.

I open my mouth to speak, but my tongue feels like sandpaper. Before I can form words, a stinging slap lands on my calf. The pain is sharp, unexpected, and I jerk away, nearly tumbling off the bed.

"Ow! What the—"

"No time for your nonsense," the tiny woman interrupts, waving a hand in front of my face. Her fingers are gnarled, reminding me of tree roots. "You stink. Shower. Now."

I sit up, head spinning. The room tilts and sways around me. Where am I? How did I get here? The last thing I remember is... Darkness.

Cold. A strange man who brought me out of my personal hell.

The tiny woman's groan snaps me back to the present. "Look at this mess. Filthy! You've ruined the sheets."

I glance down at the bed. The once-white linens are stained with dirt and... is that blood? My stomach lurches at the sight of my wrists, raw and a little bloody.

No time to waste." She tugs at my arm

bare feet. Bare feet? Ah. Clothes I don't recognize—a simple white night dress that is several

want to ask questions—so many questions—but they stick in my throat. There's something about her demeanor, gruff and no-nonsense, that makes me feel like a

almost feels comforting to be

need some serious therapy, if this tiny person

it open, revealing

shoves me inside and slams

in the mirror. My face is pale, eyes wide

And speaking of bones…

grow to little more than bony sticks, but

God.

skeleton with some skin hanging off

Horrible.

the hell is happening?"

in the mirror has no answers. She looks as

Part of me wants to march over and slam open the door, demanding answers

away the grime

My body underneath is a map of bruises and scrapes. Some look fresh, angry red against my pale skin. Others are older, fading to

Marisol didn't beat me.

fact, for being a kidnapping victim, it wasn't technically all that bad, I

escape my chains. That usually involved falling to the floor in various painful ways. And when it wasn't escape attempts, it was me trying to do basic stretches and exercises to keep up my muscle mass—hard to do with

surprised my wrists and ankles aren't

water hisses as I turn it on, steam quickly filling the small space. I step under the spray, whimpering as the hot water hits my battered skin. But the pain fades, replaced by a blessed warmth that

a sense of peace

the first thing I grab, rubbing it all over me until it turns in a dingy gray, scrubbing at my skin as if I could wash away the memories along with the dirt. By the time

is a tangled mess. I'm not even sure it's possible to brush it out. Still, I take my time washing

I wipe it away with my hand. The face that stares back at me is familiar, but strange. There's a hardness in my eyes that