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

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

wall. I stumble, momentarily disoriented

of massive greenhouse. Lush greenery surrounds us on all sides, climbing trellises and spilling out of planters. The air is thick with the scent of damp earth and tropical

My simple cotton outfit, so comfortable

by the giant blanket of warmth pressing down on us. I trail after her, trying not to trip over the uneven stone

jungle, a thought strikes me with the force of a physical blow.

in place. I could turn around right now and bolt. My guide is tiny. I could easily outpace her

But then what?

surge of hope fades as quickly as it appeared. I have no idea where I am or how to get out of this place. Those endless, identical corridors would become a maze.

what punishment would await me for trying to

shake off the fleeting fantasy of freedom and hurry to catch up with

secluded area of the greenhouse, where an equally diminutive old man sits at a table. His beard cascades to his feet, and he

it's sized for normal

booster that gets him to the level he needs to reach the

I'm too

my guide shoves me into a chair. I stumble, barely catching myself as I fall into the seat. The woman bows to the

sweat forming on my body. I

anywhere. Would rather not be in

A sense of warmth, of friendliness, radiates from him. It's as if I've known him for years, though I'm certain

be on high alert. Instead, I find myself relaxing in his presence, my guard

has to be some kind of trick. Maybe they've drugged me. Maybe this

as I force myself to stay

a page in his newspaper, seemingly oblivious to my internal struggle. I study him, searching for any hint of malice or deception. His wrinkled face is serene, his movements unhurried

silence myself, he folds the newspaper and sets it aside. His gaze meets mine, and I'm struck by the intensity in his eyes. They're old eyes, yes, but sharp

he says, his voice surprisingly strong and

does he know who I am? A thousand questions race through my mind, but only one

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