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

his mouth, but I snap my fingers at him without breaking my concentration on the Fae princess in question. "Not asking you. She's got a mouth. She can use

defending their actions,

should know—I am

Well, reformed.

Mostly.

intended effect. The giant man closes his mouth,


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 bet she's got an arrogant streak a mile wide beneath all

to let a mere

distant voices of people outside and the occasional rustle as Pip turns another page in her book. She's pretending I don't exist, which only makes

sits

then stops altogether. Slowly, the book lowers

Not a kid's eyes at all. They remind me of my own when I look in the mirror these

she finally says, her

"Last I checked."

"Then you wouldn't understand."

Nailed it.

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

more, revealing the

Then what is it? Teenage


book tumbling into her lap. "You think

and purple hair with exaggerated interest. "Please. Your whole aesthetic screams 'notice me,

the ground with a

about me or our world. This isn't

What exactly are you

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

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

"This isn't some story!"

yeah. So you're what—a resistance fighter?" I curl

connector. Someone who can move between groups without raising suspicion." Her chin lifts slightly. "I can help. I have

of people hiding from the

"We didn't—!"

her eyes narrowing into


of here," she demands. "I've done nothing wrong, and I don't have

important magical... things to attend to tonight." He waves his hand vaguely. "Very urgent. Perhaps you

of us can protest, he's backing toward the door, muttering something about "young women sorting things out" and "diplomacy training."

door closes with a soft click, leaving

"Coward," I mutter.

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