Tangled in Moonlight: Unshifted (Ava and Lucas)

Chapter 243

Chapter 243 Lisa: Strange Introductions

LISA

Wherever I am, it's huge.

We've taken at least three or four turns, and I've already forgotten how to get back. Was it left first, or right? The last turn was to our right. Wait… was it?

Shit.

Every time I lag behind, trying to map this place in my head—which is little better than a toddler's scribbling at this point, with my confusion over lefts and rights—the tiny woman turns and scolds me, telling me to pick up my feet.

Before, I would have given her some sort of smartass comment and maybe even slowed down.

But now, my body feels cold sweat at the idea of making her angry. Even if I'm a prisoner, at least I'm a clean and comfortable prisoner here. I don't want to go back to the previous standard of kidnapping.

So I shut my mouth and hurry behind, wondering how she can be so freaking fast with such tiny legs. She's probably the size of a kindergartener, but faster than a full-grown adult.

What bizarre witchcraft is that?

I force myself to focus on the path ahead, ignoring the endless parade of closed doors lining these stark corridors. No pictures, no decorations, not even a potted plant breaks up the monotony. Just door after identical door, their handles gleaming dully in the harsh overhead lighting.

The silence is oppressive. Our footsteps echo off the bare walls, amplifying the sound until it feels like we're being followed by an army. I resist the urge to look over my shoulder.

"Keep up," my tiny guide snaps for what feels like the hundredth time.

I lengthen my stride, closing the gap between us. Seriously though, how can someone so small move so fast?

We round another corner, and I blink in surprise. Windows. Actual windows line this hallway, letting in natural light.

Wow.

The sun.

it

outside, my guide veers sharply to the right. She pushes open a

a wall. I stumble, momentarily disoriented by the sudden

climbing trellises and spilling out of planters. The air is thick with the

skin. My simple cotton outfit, so comfortable

guide marches ahead, seemingly unbothered by the giant blanket of warmth pressing down on us. I trail after her, trying not

deeper into this indoor jungle, a thought strikes me with the

right now and bolt. My guide is tiny. I could easily outpace her if I tried,

But then what?

I am or how to get out of this place. Those endless, identical corridors

what punishment would await me for

freedom and

table. His beard cascades to his feet, and he peers through spectacles at a newspaper covered in unfamiliar script. A lavish spread

for

in some kind of booster that gets him to the level he needs to

I'm too worried about my

I fall into the seat. The woman bows to the old man and vanishes, leaving

of every bead of sweat forming on my body. I shift in my seat, wishing it

rather

me at ease. A sense of

I've been through, I should be on high alert. Instead, I find myself relaxing in his presence, my guard

trust it. I can't trust it. This comfort, this sense of safety—it has to be some kind of trick. Maybe they've drugged me. Maybe this whole setup is designed to

of the chair as I force myself to stay alert. I won't fall for whatever game they're

him, searching for

meets mine, and I'm struck by the intensity in his eyes. They're old eyes, yes, but sharp and clear, almost terrifying with the way they seem to stare straight

voice surprisingly strong and deep for

I

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