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.

seen it in so

a good look outside, my guide veers sharply to the right. She pushes open a set of glass double

and humidity hit me like a wall. I stumble, momentarily disoriented by the sudden change in

sides, climbing trellises and spilling

my skin. My simple cotton

on us. I trail after her, trying not to trip

jungle, a thought strikes

right now and bolt. My guide is tiny. I could easily

But then what?

am or how to get out of this place. Those endless, identical corridors would become a maze. I'd

punishment would await

shake off the fleeting fantasy of freedom and hurry to catch

greenhouse, where an equally diminutive old man sits at a table. His beard cascades to his feet, and he peers through spectacles at a newspaper covered in unfamiliar script. A lavish spread of tea

for normal adult

in some kind of booster that gets him to

I'm too worried about

I stumble, barely catching myself as I fall into the seat. The woman bows to the old man and vanishes, leaving me

every bead of sweat forming on my body. I shift in my seat, wishing it was easier to breathe in this weather. Actually, I'm just wishing to be anywhere else

not anywhere. Would rather

A sense of warmth, of friendliness, radiates from him. It's as if I've known him for years, though I'm certain we've never

been through, I should be on high alert. Instead, I find myself relaxing in his

some kind of trick. Maybe they've drugged me. Maybe this whole setup is designed

dig into the arms of the chair as I force myself to

turns 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 as he

break the 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 and clear, almost

strong and deep for such

lips sends a jolt through me. How does he know who I am? A thousand questions race through my mind, but only one makes it past

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