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.

rebel? Seems like an awfully big risk when you could be sipping whatever

my concentration on

is to get them angry. They specialize in defending their actions, declaring no one understands them, and throwing a fit until

should know—I am

Well, reformed.

Mostly.

man closes his mouth, his exhale almost imperceptible. Smart man. I can practically feel him


don't have royalty like the Fae do. But

no way she's going to let a

occasional rustle as Pip turns another page in her book. She's pretending I don't exist, which only makes me

sits perfectly still, apparently content to let this play

before Pellonia's grip on her book tightens slightly. Her page-turning slows, then stops altogether. Slowly, the book lowers just enough for her

Not a kid's eyes at all. They remind me of my

says, her voice

"Last I checked."

"Then you wouldn't understand."

Nailed it.

me, Your Highness. I've got nothing but time and

little more, revealing the tight line of her mouth.

is it? Teenage rebellion?


abruptly, the book tumbling into her lap. "You think I'm doing

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

a hand against the ground

me or our world. This isn't about my father. It's

echo, leaning forward slightly. "You're a princess. What exactly are you surviving, when you live in

New Order,"

"And the only hero—sorry, heroine—our world can rely on is a

"This isn't some story!"

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

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

compound of people hiding from the

"We didn't—!"

together, her eyes narrowing into slits.


done nothing wrong, and I don't have to explain

ceiling, 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 vaguely. "Very urgent. Perhaps you

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

closes with a soft click,

"Coward," I mutter.

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