Tangled in Moonlight: Unshifted (Ava and Lucas)

Chapter 455

Chapter 455 - 455: Lisa: Reformed Bratitude (I)


LISA

The Fae girl is a captive. A possible danger to the pack. Someone Lucas, the great Alpha, is wary of.

But… is this how captives are treated?

The young Fae girl lounges on a nest of blankets, arms straight above her as she reads from romance novel. Not a hard guess on the contents, considering the half-naked man on the cover. Dirty bowls are scattered around her head like some bizarre halo.

Whatever chapter she's on must be particularly steamy, based on her wide eyes and the slight flush on her cheeks.

I'd kill for a good book right now. Something to distract me from the constant fear, from the throbbing in my thigh. From the nightmares. But no—we don't waste precious supply runs on entertainment. Medicine, weapons, food—those are the priorities in Wolf's Landing. Not escapist literature.

No idea how she's procured the book, but I need to know.

Magister Orion sighs heavily from over my shoulder. "I know how it looks. But the Fae cannot deny her comfort, considering her status in their society."

I turn to face him, crossing my arms. "If she's so important, why don't you just hand her back to Lucas, then?"

Ava's teacher rubs the back of his neck with a soft laugh. He gestures toward a chair beside Pip's makeshift bed.

"Perhaps you should sit down, Ms. Randall."

I reluctantly lower myself into the chair, never taking my eyes off him. On the floor, the Fae girl ignores us completely, turning a page in her book.

"This doesn't look like imprisonment to me. This looks like..."

"Protective custody," Magister Orion finishes for me. He settles into a chair opposite mine, his massive frame making the furniture look child-sized. "Yes. Pellonia is not precisely a prisoner, though your Alpha is quite suspicious of the girl."


"Pellonia?" I glance down at the purple-haired girl, who's still ignoring us. Cute.

"Her proper name. Pip is a... nickname she's adopted during her little rebellion."

I study her more carefully now. The chains on her clothing, the deliberately messy purple hair. Definitely a teenager trying on a personality.

"She's a princess, right?"

"Correct. The daughter of the Crown Prince."

I cross my legs, shifting my weight in the chair as I decide Magister Orion isn't the one who needs my attention. The girl—Pellonia—is the more interesting puzzle here. I pin her with my stare, not bothering to hide my assessment.

Princess Pellonia. Why is a spoiled royal playing rebel? Seems like an awfully big risk when you could be sipping whatever passes for

him without breaking my concentration on the Fae princess in question. "Not asking you.

specialize in defending their actions, declaring no

should know—I am

Well, reformed.

Mostly.

quiet room has the intended effect. The giant man closes his mouth, his


fake my authority. Brats hate authority. And if she's the Crown Prince's daughter… well, we don't have royalty like the Fae do. But I

to let a mere human nag at

between us. The only sounds are the distant voices of people outside and the occasional rustle as Pip turns another page in her book.

Magister sits perfectly still, apparently content to let this

Pellonia's grip on her book tightens slightly. Her page-turning slows, then stops altogether.

at all. They remind

human," she finally says, her

"Last I checked."

"Then you wouldn't understand."

Nailed it.

"Try me, Your Highness. I've got nothing but time and an aching leg.

lowers the book a little more, revealing the tight line of her

it? Teenage rebellion?


tumbling into her lap. "You think I'm doing this to

chains and purple hair with exaggerated interest. "Please. Your whole

the

nothing about me or our world. This isn't about my

exactly are you surviving, when you live in a pretty little

safe. The New Order," she sneers the name, "has infiltrated every level of power.

so surprised." Rolling my eyes, I drawl, "And the only hero—sorry, heroine—our world can rely on is a spoiled

"This isn't some story!"

I curl my lip. "Princess Leia, looking for her

without raising

a compound of people

"We didn't—!"

her lips together, her eyes narrowing into slits. She shoots Magister


demands. "I've done nothing wrong,

his massive shoulders lifting in an exaggerated shrug. "Oh dear, I've just remembered I have several... important magical... things to attend to tonight." He waves his hand

of us can protest, he's backing toward the door, muttering something about "young women sorting things out" and "diplomacy training." He doesn't bother to hide what

closes with a soft click, leaving me

"Coward," I mutter.

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