Tangled in Moonlight: Unshifted (Ava and Lucas)

Chapter 267

Chapter 267 Lisa: Waking to War

A tiny hand shakes me awake with incongruous force, something I'd attribute to King Kong and not the gnomes who've been sheltering me and teaching me about magitech since my escape.

Groaning, I pull my blanket over my head. I'm too tired. "Go away."

"Wake, wake, lazy girl! The war has come!"

The wizened old housekeeper—it has to be her, because no one else treats me like an unruly pig—yanks my covers off and slaps at my legs. "Hurry up, or die here alone!"

War?

Die?

My brain isn't functioning yet, but I stumble out of bed as she throws some clothes at me. "Dress! Hurry! Boots too!" Those are tossed at my feet, bruising my pinky toe in a way that has me hissing and hopping on one foot. "No time, you lazy girl! Get moving!"

Uncertain of what's going on but recognizing that her anxiety level is sky high, I throw on a clean shirt and jeans that they must have sourced from humans. Too bad they didn't bring a bra, too.

But at least there's socks.

Shoving my feet into them, the gnarled woman shoves at me until I fall onto my ass on the bed. "Put this on," she snaps, throwing a coat at me.

"Okay, okay. Hold on. You haven't even explained what's happening!"

"War!" she snaps. "Hurry!"

Despite her gruff demeanor, she kneels to shove my boots on as I shrug on the coat, two sizes too big and—I double check what I'm feeling strapped in some hidden pockets—armed. With knives.

In fact, they seem to fit the term dagger more than knife.

Hurry, hurry. The

sort of high-falutin' to-do in the gnome community. They don't explain a lot, but it's what I've

but I'm not allowed to call

but it's definitely what she

"Mistress Keeper, I don't—"

shut your face," she hisses. "This isn't the time

Even I'm not brave—or stupid—enough to challenge Elverly. That tiny terror has no qualms about doling out pain to keep me in line.

map for

it's any sort of comfort at the moment, as I'm dragged through the halls in the middle of

stumble, my heart leaping into my throat. Elverly's iron grip closes around my

her gravelly voice

a surprising amount of effort to keep pace with

blood and raise the hairs on the back

War.

words echo in my head, taking on a horrifying new meaning. I'd thought she meant some sort of far-off conflict, a theoretical threat

Not a war here.

Not a war now.

situation slams into me as we careen down a flight of stairs. The basement.

burst into the room. Without a word, he ushers us toward what he calls the "safe room." The

his usual calm demeanor cracking under

us. The room comes alive, whirring and clicking. Panels shift, mechanisms engage, and the space around us shrinks. It's like being inside a giant, mechanical

sit. Standing is out of the question, and moving? Forget

as we all breathe into this tiny space, sharing the mingled scents of oil, metal, and fear. I struggle to control my breathing, trying not to give in to the claustrophobia

my escape.

whisper, unable to

doorstep, child. Those unhappy with their lot have

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