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. The Grand Sage

this place. He's some sort of high-falutin' to-do in the gnome community. They don't explain a lot,

is her name, but I'm not allowed

don't think that's a real title, but

"Mistress Keeper, I don't—"

face," she hisses. "This isn't the

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

corridors no longer bewilders me. After perusing a map for hours on end, I the layout

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

structure. The floor bucks beneath my feet, and I stumble, my heart leaping into my

barks, her gravelly voice laced with

break into a run, my longer legs having to put in a surprising amount of effort to

and screams, the kind that chill your blood and raise the

War.

thought she meant some sort of far-off conflict, a theoretical

Not a war here.

Not a war now.

careen down a flight of stairs. The basement. We're

he calls the "safe room." The door

usual calm

shift, mechanisms engage, and the space around us shrinks. It's like being inside

stops, we're left in a space so cramped I can barely sit. Standing is out of the question, and moving? Forget about it. I'm wedged between Elverly and the

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

thing, ever since my escape. I don't like being

unable to keep

our doorstep, child.

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